Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

It had been… interesting, at first. Diving in to people’s bodies, that is.

To feel exactly how they feel, to experience their thoughts and emotions as though they had been his own. Whether they were scared or angry, anxious or nervous—Cheng Xiaoshi felt it all.

From the forlorn melancholy of a daughter missing her parents after dreaming of eating their spring rolls.
The heartbreaking sadness of a son weeping for his dying mother amidst a horrible, earth-shattering tragedy.
The caffeine-quick butterflies he’d feel in his stomach when a girl would stare at the boy she liked.
To the fear tearing his gut apart as a little girl watching her father beat her mother.

Cheng Xiaoshi felt it all.

And though it had started… interestingly enough, (even after all of these dives), he still hadn’t fully adjusted to how each one will make him feel. Each one so much more different than the last.
Nevertheless, experiencing emotions became like second-nature: Grief, guilt, love, fear… anything and everything that fell under the umbrella of human sentiment. It helped him understand his own feelings in turn. Both inside and out of the dives. For instance:

Grief would tear his insides out, parade his organs outside of his skin.
Fear would knot his stomach completely, tributaries tangled into themselves like ouroboros.
Guilt would fester in his chest like wriggling insects, scuttling like an unscratched itch.
Sorrow would pour over him and shred him like wet, crumpled paper.
Love would coil in his gut and rise up to his throat sporadically, an electric jolt akin to a mighty bolt from the heavens themselves.

He’s felt these time and time again, acquainting himself with them better and better each dive. So, he knows how people feel when they experience certain events: When they look at certain people, when they hate, when they love, when they laugh and scream.

But now—

Now he’s experiencing those intense dive emotions outside of them.

They aren’t amplified by the thoughts of another. These thoughts, these feelings, they’re all his own. And they are so powerful.

These feelings: What are they? Well, they’re—

“Cheng Xiaoshi,”

A hitch in his chest. Rich brown eyes shift, body turning, nervous fluttering so like the love he feels in the body of another beating drum-hard in his chest, to find the source of these amplified feelings right behind him.

White-light locks in spiked disarray atop an always-collected head, dull slate-gray eyes that look as if they’ve both seen too much and not enough staring ahead, late-afternoon sunlight filtered in through the window to highlight that icing-smooth skin holding out a lightly sweating cup of milk tea.

Lu Guang.

Slate-gray eyes slightly squint. “Don’t tell me you changed your mind on the flavor again.” The milk tea rattles in the plastic cup from the ice inside as Lu Guang gently shakes it.

“Oh, n-no, milk tea is right!” He chirps, finally moving to take the outstretched cup from Lu Guang’s hand.

His pulse quickens taking the cup from him, fingers brushing against his skin. He must have blushed or done something weird with his face based on the slightly arched brow Lu Guang gives him. He nervously laughs, waving him off, before quickly distracting himself by sipping at the drink; ice-cold sweetness coating his tongue.

How lame of him.

When did he start acting like this around his friend? So… jittery and spooked like a hunted rabbit? He’s known Lu Guang for a few years now: Having met and became friends during their university days to working and living together in the photo studio. They were always close, sure. They are close, definitely. They laugh, they joke, they hunker down and work hard, they trust one another with their lives. Eat together, lounge together, exist together.

So when did that start feeling… more? (For lack of a better word).

When did Lu Guang’s faint smirks start making him feel feather-light and honey-bright?
When did his encouragement after a hard job make him feel like he could conquer gods?
When did his chiding remarks when he’d act recklessly start feeling like knives cutting him open?
When did the mere thought of him being hurt or in pain shatter him down to the bone?
When did the mere sight of him make him feel exactly how he felt in Xu Shanshan’s body when she’d look at Dong Yi?

He doesn’t know when, he doesn’t even know how.

All he does know is…

…He can’t possibly be in…

…In love with Lu Guang…

…Right?

The front door swings open.

“Get off your butts! I’ve got a job for you two!” The bright voice of Qiao Ling bursts through, echoing with the electronic doorbell announcing a guest has arrived, pitches overlapping.

Cheng Xiaoshi jumps in his skin, hands fumbling the milk tea. He makes a series of gasps and cries as his hands nearly juggle the drink trying to keep it from dropping. He barely manages to catch it and he exhales heavily when it’s secure in his hands again.

Though Qiao Ling’s distraction is rather welcome. It makes the air—and most importantly his thoughts—feel more normal again.

“Hey Landlady, you almost made me drop my milk tea! You know how much these cost?” He huffs.

“Don’t have such a loose grip on it,­” Lu Guang sighs. “You’re not even the one who paid for it...” gets mumbled out and barely heard.

Qiao Ling leans against the door, closing it shut with her back. “Just don’t be so jumpy and you won’t have to worry about spilling your drink.” She flatly muses.

“I am not jumpy!” Cheng Xiaoshi bickers back, red hue blooming across his cheeks.

“Yeah and I’m Sun Tzu.” A flat jab returned. “Anyway~” her pitch reinflates to its usual vibrancy, “Our newest client needs our assistance in something a little, near and dear to the heart.” She says, handing a small, slightly tattered Polaroid to Lu Guang.

Cheng Xiaoshi steps up as Lu Guang takes the photo from her, looking over his shoulder while sipping at his milk tea. Qiao Ling narrates their job as they both analyze the photo.

“Our client is this woman: Zhao Anna.”

A young couple stands side by side, the camera held up in the air and pointed down on them, held up by the girl. Her wavy, almond-brown hair flows down her back, nearly to her hips, and her hazel green eyes accented with sparkly-purple glasses glimmer like her quaint smile. It’s not too wide, but it looks like pink and purple-colored braces hide behind the soft curl of her lips. She looks like she’s only half-Chinese. (If her name wasn’t a give away by itself.)

“And this boy in the photo—"

On the right, nearly shoulder-to-shoulder with her, a boy with short, spiked brown hair akin to the richness of cocoa, and eyes of the same earthy hue beams a smile brighter than a camera’s flash, holding up a peace sign. There’s athletic tape over the hand holding up his peace sign as well as a bandage over his nose. His lanky body dressed in some kind of uniform that hangs just about a half-size big on him. A sports player, perhaps?

“—Is Li Jing, who she’s known since grade school.”

The background is harder to make out as the camera is not only held up high, but angled down quite a bit. Looks like the ground below them could be cobblestone, or perhaps brick. Either way, it stands out; colored a bright yet neutral tan. A courtyard? The front of a school?

“Y’see, Zhao Anna has had a crush on Li Jing for a long time now. She never could find the courage to tell him, and she was hoping she could get a chance to tell him the day this photo was taken.”

“Why th’n?” Cheng Xiaoshi asks around the straw in his mouth. “Why n’t jus’ tell h’m h’w she feels n’w?”

Lu Guang makes a flat face at him over his straw-speech as Qiao Ling shakes her head faintly.

“She doesn’t have a way to contact him anymore. So she thought our services would give her that chance­—tie up loose ends.”

Cheng Xiaoshi takes the straw out of his mouth. “Sounds pretty easy!”

Lu Guang’s eyes flash blue, dappled hues rippling just the same as ocean waves as he observes the innards of the photo’s universe. The stoicism never leaves his face, though his brows do faintly tug down. Cheng Xiaoshi watches quietly beside him, brown eyes flitting between his partner’s and the photo he holds.

“It can be done.” He says, eyes returning back to the slate gray they were before.

“Yup! This one’ll be in the bag! Easy-peasy rent money for our Landlady!” Cheng Xiaoshi throws up his thumb and smiles enthusiastically.

“Delivering the words will be the easy part.” Lu Guang says, monotone but matter-of-factly. “It’s what comes next we’ll have to be careful with.”  Those slate eyes meet directly with his own.

It’s a look he’s seen before, has grown accustomed to over time and all of the dives they’ve done. It’s a look that tells Cheng Xiaoshi that this job will take more of a toll than assumed. Whether that be mental or physical, he doesn’t quite know.
Lu Guang also has a habit of hiding exactly what it is until it happens. ‘Prevent him from doing anything reckless’, as he’s said before—which is both a blessing and a curse.

Cheng Xiaoshi exhales, smile drooping from enthusiastic to careful understanding. “I know, I know; past and future, leave them be.”

“Well then, I leave this job in your capable hands!” Qiao Ling smiles. Though her smile warps into something playfully menacing when she glances at Cheng Xiaoshi, “By capable hands I mean Lu Guang’s of course.”

“Hey!” He barks, a pout tugging his brow and lips down. “I’m plenty capable I’ll have you know! Who was it that came up with the plan to save Lu Guang when he was taken by Li Tianchen, hmmm???”

“Only because Lu Guang gave you that opening in the first place.”

“Can’t you give me more credit here?? I busted my ass off executing all those timing-sensitive plans you know!!”

(Lu Guang’s eyes flatly dart back and forth between Qiao Ling and Cheng Xiaoshi.)

“Only because your ‘break glass in case of emergency capability’ came through!”

“What the heck is that supposed to mean?? I—”

Lu Guang clears his throat—loudly.

Qiao Ling and Cheng Xiaoshi’s bickering shuts down with the speed of a tripped breaker. Distracting himself, he takes a long drag from his half-empty milk tea, while she clears her throat softly and dusts off her half-skirt, spats combo.

“Well then, I will leave you to it. I promised Shanshan I would get dinner with her after I dropped off this job for you.”

“Yeah, yeah, we got it.” Still pretending to be annoyed, but there’s a smirk lingering on Cheng Xiaoshi’s face. “Later.”

“See you.” Lu Guang gives a short wave: a single wipe to the right.

Qiao Ling smiles before she heads out of the shop, automated voice signaling her departure with a greeting.

Only moments after she leaves, Lu Guang holds out his hand, palm upturned.

“Wait, now?” Cheng Xiaoshi gawks. “I haven’t even finished the milk tea you got me.” A half-pout pulling his brows down.

“It shouldn’t take long. It will be something good for you to come back to after the dive.”

He hesitates, just for a moment.

Maybe this job wasn’t going to be as easy-peasy as he thought, if Lu Guang mentions something nice to come back to.

“Okay. Just… don’t go drinking it while I’m gone, kay?” A light jest that falls a touch flat as he sets the milk tea on a small coffee table nearby.

The tiniest of smirks—the kind that light up the eyes without any facial movement—is given in return. “Sure.”

He doesn’t know exactly what he’ll experience or what he’ll have to do. Doesn’t know the kind of toll this will take or even the exact emotions he’ll go through. All he can do is trust in Lu Guang’s guidance: just as he always does.

Eyes of slate give way to summer sky blue.

“Ready?”

Eyes of cedar transmute to gold.

“Dive.”

Clap.

Camera flash, the noise and the light filling his eyes and ears. A purple floater drifts in his eyes from the flash, harsh against the late afternoon sky high above. The tips of evening barely stroke the horizon line, golds and oranges: a citrus spread. What clouds do hang in the sky are thin and dappled, like the smoke lines from a plane. Spring hangs in the breeze that blows by, tinted with a faint fragrance of earth and rain.

Cheng Xiaoshi—or rather, Cheng Xiaoshi in Zhao Anna’s body—pulls the camera back down after what feels like a lifetime. The camera feels so heavy in these hands; so much smaller than his own. He takes a quick moment to look around, see where he is in this photo exactly. (Especially now that the purple drifter isn’t in his sights anymore.)

Oh, they’re standing in front of a high school. Looks like the Sui Yin Academy, based off the large calligraphy written out on the plaque just outside the stone-walled perimeter. On the right, beyond the stone-wall perimeter and black-iron gates sits the school. A few students stroll out in the distance, some rushing instead. The school itself looks decent enough: three stories, cream-colored exterior dappled with light tans and rich browns. To the left is a bus lane and small parking lot. The bus lane sits vacant, and the cars that do remain in the lot probably belong to the staff who haven’t left yet.
Well, judging from the environment, looks like the last time their client got to see their childhood best friend was back in high school. Not sure if that’s only been a few months or something longer. He didn’t get the full scoop on the client, just the photo. Did the client’s love interest go overseas? Maybe they just lost touch out of graduation? It’s hard to say right now.

“So? How’d it turn out??” An eager voice chirps, sound akin to an excitable golden retriever.

Oh, right! He’s on the clock right now! No time to be looking around and wondering.

Right next to him, Li Jing smiles bright with eager eyes awaiting the results of the photo. In Zhao Anna’s body, Cheng Xiaoshi takes the photo from the Polaroid camera, already finding the film developing on its own. Had he been in his own body, he and Li Jing would be the same height. But in this demure body, the top of his head only comes up to the bottom of his shoulder.

Li Jing exhales through his nose, a committal whistle no thanks to the bandage over his nose. “Yeah, that’s a good one.” Voice warm as spring.

b-bmp.

‘Woah.’ Cheng Xiaoshi thinks. ‘Her heart sped up like crazy when his voice got soft! And my face feels so warm, like feverish almost.’

‘Because she likes him remember?’ Lu Guang’s voice echoes in his head, almost tickles.

“Oh yeah, right.’ Cheng Xiaoshi recalls.

“Any special reason for the photo, Anna?” Li Jing asks, that voice still maintaining that spring-like warmth.

b-bmp.

There it goes again; just from the way her name rolled off his tongue.

‘Uh, line, Lu Guang?’

(It’s hard to think when their client’s heart nearly skips any time her crush talks!)

‘…Your tournament is today.’ Lu Guang supplies.

“Your… tournament is today.” He mimics, voice produced from the lungs and throat of the woman he inhabits: meek, a touch frightened, like there’s something waiting around a corner she just can’t see yet. (Kind of reminds him of a groundhog scared of its own shadow.)

“Oh, so is this like a ‘good luck’ photo?” Li Jing smirks, more pep in his tone.

“Y-Yeah, that’s right.”

‘Hey, don’t ask me for your lines and then speak before I give them to you.’ Lu Guang huffs.

‘S-Sorry, I thought that would be a good response.’

‘Just like before, Cheng Xiaoshi; follow my lead.’

b-bmp.

That— that was their client’s heartbeat for sure, but- with Cheng Xiaoshi in her body, of course it would react to his own feelings as well. But why would that make his heart thump so hard? Lu Guang practically drills that sentence into his head every dive: Follow his lead. What’s so different this time? This is just like any other job, any other dive, any other time.

But… this isn’t exactly like any other time, is it?

No. It isn’t. Because this time, Cheng Xiaoshi’s own heightened, turbulent feelings are getting mixed in with the job. Being in the body of a girl standing and talking right next to her crush is not helping either. He feels her emotions, he feels his own. They mix so strongly they could almost be one in the same. His, hers, and the uncertainty in both of them; double down on the triple threat.

‘Hey—focus.’

O-0h, right. Yes, he needs to focus: They have a job to do. He puts the camera into the bag resting against Zhao Anna’s hip. (Can’t get that damaged and alter the past!)

‘Right then, after me…’ Lu Guang’s steady voice echoes to guide once more. ‘But you don’t need luck, do you?’

“But you don’t need luck, do you?” Cheng Xiaoshi parrots back those lines.

3 sets of voices buzz in his head. The voice of Lu Guang: stoic but sure. His own internal voice: bright and headstrong. Zhao Anna’s voice: meek and small. They make his head ring like a singing bowl.

Li Jing’s smile cracks wide as easily as a brittle eggshell. “You got that right!” He flexes his left arm and anchors his right hand on his bicep. “You’re looking at the number 1 member of the table tennis team!”

T-Table tennis…? A guy like this playing table tennis??

It makes Cheng Xiaoshi laugh, snorting and wheezing with his body leaning forward, hands braced on his skirted legs. Though through the body of Zhao Anna, looks and sounds more like an asthma attack than anything else.

‘You aren’t supposed to be laughing!’ Lu Guang’s voice bites out.

The bite sinks in, especially when Li Jing gives him a confused look.

“S-Sorry, I just, thought it was funny that you called yourself number 1, like, haven’t you been number 1 for a while now?” Cheng Xiaoshi quickly lays down the nervous call, hoping Li Jing doesn’t see past the bluff.

He doesn’t, because he chortles out a laugh himself. “I guess I have been!”

‘Phew…’ Cheng Xiaoshi exhales heavily in his head, doing his best to keep Zhao Anna’s face neutral. ‘So, when do we actually get to tell this guy how she feels?’

‘Not yet.’ A pause from Lu Guang. ‘A few more minutes.’

“But, it’s nice seeing you laugh like that, Anna.”

b-bmp.

Cheng Xiaoshi’s golden eyes paired with the body of their client snap towards Li Jing. That feverish flush is back in his cheeks again, especially with the calmly collected look on his face as he looks at him.

“I know you don’t have it easy, but you still try to smile and laugh and find the joy and good in everything. It’s incredible…” The breeze blows, ruffles their hair with the scent of earth and dew carried on it. “…You’re incredible.”

B-BMP.

A loud heartbeat from Zhao Anna. One so strong Cheng Xiaoshi thought it might pound its way right out of his chest. One so strong it made time itself seem to pause.

‘It’s so obvious he likes her back!’ He admonishes. ‘How could she not have jumped at this chance before??’

‘Didn’t you pay attention to the picture?’ Lu Guang reminds. ‘Her body language in the photo alone shows just how reserved she is.’

‘I guess that makes sense... but isn’t this guy her best friend? Why wouldn’t she feel like she could tell him?’

(Hello hypocracy, how are you?)

‘With her appearance and name being what they are, I imagine it has opened up a lifetime of bullying here for her. It makes sense she would have a hard time opening up to anyone, even a best friend… especially where romance is involved.’

‘Even… a best friend… where romance is involved…’ Cheng Xiaoshi mumbles back.

‘Think about it—why would she want to run the risk of ruining the only genuine connection she has from someone? Run the risk of chasing away the one person who has stayed?
Wounded, reserved people believe it’s better to have their loved ones however they can, and not truly in the way they want. Because having them at a distance is… better than not having them at all.’

Hang on…

That tone; breathed into his head on a faint, forlorn sigh. Those words; so carefully picked and planted. The way he phrased it… how it sounds so put together and rehearsed. It begs the question of why.

Why does…

Why does Lu Guang—ready, steady, always knows what to do and say, straight-forward and analytical—sound like…

Well, like he’s speaking from experience here?

‘Lu Guang…’ Cheng Xiaoshi’s internal voice practically chokes on his name.

Is it possible that Lu Guang of all people, could feel exactly how a scared, wounded client could feel in the face of her best friend?
That Lu Guang, of all people, would want to keep him around however he can.
Because maybe, just maybe…

He likes him too much to lose him too?

‘Lu Guang… are you—’

“Oh, the bus is here!” Li Jing’s voice cuts through, eyes breaking away.

Both of them­—observer and performer—yanked back to their current job like being ripped out of the ocean: pressure, pressure, release.

A sleek charter bus painted white and red slows to a stop from where they stand, between the front of the school and the start of the bus lane. Someone pressed play on time’s pause button: It kicks back up, and with it, brings a small swell of teammates to the edge of the courtyard. They aren’t alone anymore—the photo being the only proof they ever were.

Li Jing’s eyes focus back on him. He smiles something in between soft and forlorn. “Well, I guess I’ll see you.”

‘Lu Guang, do I give him the client’s message now?’

‘No. Not yet.’

‘Not yet?? Wha- I- What do you mean!? He’s literally about to get on the bus!!’

‘Cheng Xiaoshi­—wait.’

Antsy and restless, he taps his foot against the ground like a peddle to a bass drum going supersonic, but he does as he’s told and waits.

Li Jing turns, back towards him. Heads to the bus amongst the swell of teammates doing the same.

One step away.

b-bmp.

Two steps away.

b-bmp! b-bmp!

Three steps away.

bmpbmpbmp!

Four­—

‘Cheng Xiaoshi!’

“Li Jing!” His voice squeaks, nearly breaks as it comes out through Zhao Anna’s throat. But he shouts, and he does it loud.

He slows, stops, glances over his shoulder with a look of surprise glowing in his eyes.

Heart in his throat, pounding away against the war of insecurity and rejection raging in his head. Insecurity’s numbers are dwindling, Rejection’s numbers seem to triple. Insecurity is wounded; guns jammed, waving the white flag to beg no more. Rejection towers over, smoke and gunpowder filling the cranial chasm. It’s suffocating. It’s going to devour him whole. This uncertainty, this agony.

It’s no wonder Zhao Anna never said anything before. Standing here in her body, feeling exactly how she felt in this memory: The heart-pounding, lung-seizing, gut-clenching, nerve-wracking fear that coils in every muscle, laced down to his very cells. No wonder she had changed her mind. Simply smiled and waved him goodbye.

But—

‘Alright, repeat after me…’ Lu Guang readies.

—They have a job to do.

“Li Jing…!” He calls again with a voice cracked harder than damaged glass. “Y-you were always so kind to me. You never treated me like I was an outsider, or half of a person. You looked at me, and- and you saw me for me!” He shouts.

Tears swell in his eyes, heart in his mouth. Body screams at him to abort mission, Rejection is knocking and Insecurity is down for the count. Run, run, they plead. They have no white flag to wave. Even that has been consumed by Rejection. But… there’s something on the horizon, gliding in on ethereal steeds. Leading the charge—it’s Hope.

Hope swells mightier than the ocean, a cascade of countless power crushing down on Rejection with the force of a thousand tsunamis. Hope will carry them forward. Hope will deliver the message. Hope will see it through for Zhao Anna.

Hope will see it through for Cheng Xiaoshi too.

“You always stayed by my side! You never looked down on me like everyone else did! You encouraged me! Inspired me! Helped me! And… and…! I thank you, Li Jing, for everything!! For the friendship you’ve given me, for all of the support I could never get at home!
Thank you for teaching me what it meant to be alive! To have a friend! To be myself and speak my mind! To not be afraid! To have the courage to stand up for myself, fight for what I believe in!
And most of all! Most of all, thank you for showing me what it meant to love someone! Because I do! I- I love you! With all of my heart! With everything I can in this quaint, frail body of mine! I love you and no matter how much time passes or whatever happens in the future, I will always love you, and I will never forget you!!!
Thank you, Li Jing!!! Thank you!!!”

Raw: tears, emotions, feelings, wounds, growth. It’s raw and bloody, brought into this world screaming and scared, but it’s here. Welcome to the world, Love: among this desolate chasm, we’ve been waiting for you. Where Insecurity and Rejection fought and burned out here, Hope became the rain to grow you here; out of the ashes and out of the wreckage, you bloomed. Welcome. Welcome.

The shock on Li Jing’s face melts like butter into something so incredibly soft and smooth. Warm summer sun to melt away the cold fear once there before. Eyes the color of cocoa reflect in the near evening light just right: honey gold bursting to life in their shimmer.

“I know.” He says.

Cheng Xiaoshi gasps in Zhao Anna’s body.

“You never could bring yourself to say it before, Anna. But, I would always see it in your eyes—what you never could say with words.”

All this time…

“They’d always have this glow to them, those pretty hazel greens.”

…He knew…

“I just want you to know,”

He knew she loved him all this time.

“You don’t have to thank me for anything, Anna. I love being your friend. I love being with you. And most of all, I love you too.”

B-BMP!

A heartbeat so strong Cheng Xiaoshi winces and clutches his chest. Eyes full of tears, droplets falling from them so heavy he has to hang his head down. A head full of hope: hope for the future, hope for the now, hope for everything that is to come and everything that could be. Above all, so much raw, unfiltered love pouring out of him wherever it can. So strong. This is how to feels to have love reciprocated. This is how it feels, so freeing and powerful. This is how it feels to be accepted.

This is love.

“Hey, Anna.”

In the body of Zhao Anna, he lifts his head up quickly.

“After I get back from totally winning this tourney, how about you and I go out? I know a great Café in the Fujian Province!”

Tears flowing. “It’s a date.”

Li Jing smiles brighter than a solar flare. “Great! See you tomorrow!”

“See you.”

And Li Jing steps onto the bus, the last one on. Cheng Xiaoshi watches him with golden eyes. How he steps down the bus aisle, how he picks a seat. How he waves at him when the bus begins to drive off.

Even after the bus is long gone, he stands there, staring where he’d last seen it. Evening truly hangs in the sky now, washing the world in yellow and orange. He delivered the words: He got Anna’s message through. Maybe, just maybe, with the words he’s given, Li Jing will find a way back in her life again. Maybe they wouldn’t have ever had to grow apart this way. Maybe this would alter the past too much. But, maybe it wouldn’t either. If it altered too much, Lu Guang would have never offered to take this job.

Lu Guang…

A hand goes back to his chest, grips at the shirt he wears.

He knows it’s love Zhao Anna feels for Li Jing. He knows just how intense it is, experiencing it like this. He came into this job well knowing she loved him, has loved him all this time. So, when he thinks of his own partner…

It’s the same.

The Insecurity she felt, he feels.
The Rejection she felt, he feels.
The Hope she felt, he feels.
The Love she felt, he feels.

The way a smirk would make their hearts thrum.
The way a chide would make their stomachs churn with guilt.
The way a tease would turn their faces red.
The way they’d try to find any reason to stay close.
They way they’d do anything to see them laugh or smile.
The way that almost every thought circles back to them and them alone.
They’re one in the same.

It’s true.

Cheng Xiaoshi loves Lu Guang.

But,

Does he feel the same?

‘Hey, you need to get moving.’ Speak of the devil, there he is in his head again.

His heart stutters.

‘Huh? W-what do you mean? I delivered the message, didn’t I?’

‘Yes, but we’re not done yet. You need to head to Zhao Anna’s home if we want to keep the past from altering.’

‘Wait there’s more? Seriously?’ He sighs to himself.

‘Get going. You have to be at her house at 5:30.’

‘And it’s what time now?’

‘5:23.’

‘SERIOUSLY???’

‘Relax. Her home is a 6-minute walk from the school. Now quit wasting time.’

Alright, what does he even see in this bossy prude??

He kicks a stray rock and stomps back home with the bossy prude’s directions. (Also getting a chide for his demeanor along the way.)

No wonder her home is such a short walk from the school.

It’s a few streets and a block or two away down a main road crowded with shops and businesses; a Lilong neighborhood. Passing by a few convenience stores, cafes and one small karaoke bar, Cheng Xiaoshi finds the semi-private alley where most of the small, courtyard houses are, stacked on top of the other like neat little blocks. Most of them are built with bricks, some with wood and bright-colored paneling.

Zhao Anna’s home is above another one about halfway down the alley fashioned mostly out of bricks with a few wooden accents. Looks quaint, a little bland even. Not a ton of décor outside or in the windows: Even the closed drapes look pretty dull. It’s the house below that has more life and color. There’s a small family in front of it, hanging their laundry on a clothesline to dry.

The mother hanging a pair of pants notices him walk up to the archway that will lead to the other houses inside.

“Zhao Anna, your father was wondering where you were.”

“Oh, I was just—”

‘Don’t mention what you were doing.’ Lu Guang interrupts.

“—Running a little late from school is all.” Cheng Xiaoshi pivots with a little hesitancy, voice squeaking like a mouse out of their client’s body.

“Well hurry home, he’s quite worried.”

“Yes, I will, thank you, Ayi.”

He hears the woman mutter ‘Ayi’ under her breath, surprised.

‘Didn’t I tell you to follow my lead?’

‘You didn’t tell me what to say there, so I improvised! Is that a crime??’ He argues back, heading up the stairs inside the hall.

‘Just be careful, okay? We don’t want to cause any discrepancies in the past because you decided to wing it.’

‘Then maybe next time tell me what to say before I say anything!’

‘Don’t get ahead of me then.’

‘Lu Guang, you…!!’ If he were a kettle, steam would be coming out of Cheng Xiaoshi’s ears. He settles with making a tight-clenched fist and shaking it.

‘You’ll need to follow what I say very carefully when you step inside the house. What we do and say will be very important to Zhao Anna’s past.’

The steam quiets, angered tea taken from the stovetop. ‘Alright, alright, I got it.’ He mentally drawls as he stops in front of the door to their client’s home.

‘Right, get ready.’

Cheng Xiaoshi stops in front of the door. Before he even has a chance to put his hand on the knob and open it, the door quickly flings open.

There stands a man, her father undoubtedly, and it’s very clear now as to why Zhao Anna only looks half-Chinese. Her father appears to be American: He’s tall, paler, with muscle mass more suited to a bodybuilder. His brown hair and bright green eyes are even lighter than Zhao Anna’s own. Not only that, but he has a wicked scar across his face from his temple and all the way down to his neck.

“There you are!!” He shouts.

His voice is powerful, booms like thunder, but is rough and course as sandpaper. And even though he doesn’t mean to, it makes Cheng Xiaoshi wince out of reflex.

“Get inside!!”

Zhao Anna’s father is rough and hasty as he grabs his arm, much too tightly for his liking, and pulls him inside. He nearly stumbles as he crosses the threshold of the house, quickly observing his surroundings while he can.

It’s dim inside and smells something both rotten and stale. The walls in here are yellow and gray washed, like they’ve been coated in something. There are scattered newspapers over a coffee table cluttered in empty cigarette cartons, cup ring stains, and a full ashtray. Even the furniture seems pale, old and dirty.

The only thing that looks clean and well kept in this living room is a shadow box full of medals; none that Cheng Xiaoshi are familiar with. They’re pinned against a velvet backing and neatly arranged. There are only 4 that really catch his eye. One is black with a white stripe down the center going vertically with some type of cross. One is black with a yellow stripe down the middle, with a bronze medallion embellished with an eagle. Another that’s blue, white and red striped with a five-pointed star medal, and a purple one with a heart-shaped medal.

‘Lu Guang, do you know what any of these medals are?’

‘Most likely they’re military medals. But what they’re for I’m not certain.’

Jeeze, pretty gross house for a military man with all those medals. And the way he yelled and pulled him inside with such force... Looks like her home life is as turbulent as her school life.

Click,
Chack,
Clink,
Chck.

Turning around, golden eyes widen at the four different sets of locks that are slid, turned, and bolted closed on the front door.

‘Jeeze, why is this guy so paranoid??’

“Do you know how late you are?!?” His thunderous voice booms. “You know how much I hate it when you’re tardy!!”

He stomps across the floor and gets right up to him, leaning down and putting his face just inches away from his. His breath reeks of cigarettes and alcohol. Zhao Anna’s body reacts like prey being chased by predator: rapid-beating heart, tight chest and a cold sweat breaking out over her skin.

‘Okay not paranoid, just another bully for Anna.’ Cheng Xiaoshi’s fists clench and a glare pulls his brows down tight.

‘You need to cower.’ Lu Guang immediately pumps the brakes to his righteous anger.

‘Huh??’

‘Remember, Zhao Anna is timid and meek: She shuts down at confrontation.’

‘You’re kidding?? I have to cower from this asshole??’

‘If we want to keep the past from irreversibly changing, yes.’

Cheng Xiaoshi swallows hard, then against his nature, forces himself to shrink and cower; leaning away from Zhao Anna’s father. His face tenses as though he’s about to jump into ice-cold water. This feels so wrong.

“What time are you supposed to be home by every day??”

‘5 o’clock, but—’ Lu Guang doesn’t get to finish.

“5 o’clock!”

‘Cheng Xiaoshi! You were supposed to answer in military time!’

‘Oh… shit.’

“What was that??”

‘Lu Guang what’s 5 in military time??’

‘1700 hours.’

“1700 hours!”

“1700 hours what??”

‘Remember your manners, Cheng Xiaoshi—this man demands them.’

“…Sir…”

“I said 1700 hours what??”

“1700 hours, Sir!!”

God it feels like he’s going to throw up. This is so degrading. Degrading, but also terrifying. Not for him of course, but for Zhao Anna; her whole body is faintly trembling.

‘Is this really what she has to go through every day?’

‘It is.’ Lu Guang confirms. ‘It won’t even be a full 12 hours before he yells at her again over something trivial.’

‘This is awful. Where is her mom? Surely she’d put a stop to this!’

‘The mother is dead.’

Shock chills Cheng Xiaoshi’s veins. ‘What?? How do you know that?’

He focuses on the conversation between him and Lu Guang, not the yelling that Zhao Anna’s father continues to do just inches away from his face.

‘Shortly after you entered the photo, Qiao Ling texted me more information about the client.’

‘Why didn’t she say anything before we dived??’

Lu Guang pauses.

“—Do I need to smoke you out again?? Is that what you want, you—!!”

A bit of Zhao Anna’s father pulses in through the silence. Cheng Xiaoshi does his best to tune it out while staying cowered and meek; even if it goes against who he is entirely.

‘She knew you might react poorly if you knew too much going in to the photo.’

‘Seriously?? Well, I’m already in here, mind telling me now??’

‘Fine. But you have to promise you won’t lash out, that you’ll stick to our script and do as I say.’

‘Fine! I got it!’

‘Cheng Xiaoshi.’ Lu Guang’s voice snaps out his name. Hard and serious, coupled with a harsh bite and lockjaw force; he’s completely dead-set.

It makes him swallow out of reflex.

‘You have to promise me you’ll do as I say.’ Lu Guang repeats, every word slowly and methodically enunciated. ‘Can you promise me that, Cheng Xiaoshi?’

A promise.

‘I made a promise: I’d stay by your side.’

Lu Guang’s promise to him echoing in his mind. A promise to never leave. A promise to stay. A promise that he would not give up on him, that he would not abandon him.

‘…I promise.’ His own voice calm and steady. He means it.

‘Good.’ Lu Guang’s voice mellows.

If he weren’t in Zhao Anna’s body right now, he’d be smiling from ear to ear. But as Lu Guang begins telling their client’s origin story, the urge to smile slowly slips into an urge to cry and scream.

‘Zhao Anna is indeed half-Chinese. Her father, Stephen Copper, was a high-ranking navy official who was stationed here during his time in service. During that service, he met Anna’s mother: Zhao Lifan. He fell in love with her and stayed here when his tour was over. She was as kind as she was beautiful, and he was the perfect gentleman.
When Zhao Anna came along, they thought life couldn’t get any better. They gave their daughter their mother’s last name, so she would blend in better here when she’d get a little older. Life seemed perfect.’

‘Seemed’ being the key word. Nothing is ever perfect.

Lu Guang continues.
‘—But it wasn’t long after when that perfect reality shattered. Stephen had his demons and he hid them well. He hid his short-temper, his addiction with nicotine and alcohol from the long, hard nights of his military service, of which caused him a terrible injury to his face. He hid it all, but it all unraveled shortly after Zhao Anna was born. All of those sleepless nights with a colicky newborn, and the stress that comes with childrearing at all, it shattered that façade completely.’

Here it comes—the symphonic downfall.

‘—Like the flip of a switch, Stephen changed. The once hardworking, humbling man warped into a violent, angry, alcoholic monster. The mother did her best to raise her daughter in love and patience, but she couldn’t shield her from everything; especially when she got old enough to understand what was happening.’

The major-chorded intro builds in to a minor-chorded first verse.

‘—He would beat Zhao Lifan in front of Zhao Anna. Beat her, yell at her, throw things at her. Anything he could do to her, he would.
Zhao Lifan would always console her daughter afterward. Swear that one day they’d leave, and they would be safe and happy.
Until one night, when Zhao Anna was only 10, and her mother finally had enough and decided to leave… her father beat her mother to death.’

To death. Just for protecting her daughter. The thought sours Cheng Xiaoshi’s stomach more than bad pork buns. But nevertheless, the first verse gives way to a painful bridge.

‘­—He was trying to go for Zhao Anna, but Zhao Lifan did what any mother would do to protect their child. She took every blow until eventually, she couldn’t. Until eventually, she succumbed to those injuries. Until eventually, she died, right there on the kitchen floor.’

How awful… another sour note to go into the chorus.

‘—When her mother had died, all of Stephen’s abuse and anger turned to Zhao Anna.
It's why she’s so meek and quiet, timid and afraid to speak her mind. Being herself, speaking up, being an individual: those were all traits that would get her mother beat. Eventually, it would lead to her getting beat as well. The best way for her to survive was to submit. To apologize for everything, take the yelling and the beatings; to be absolutely perfect and hollow so maybe Stephen wouldn’t find a reason to yell at her and hit her anymore. But it was never enough.’

Of course it wasn’t. Even the best you can be is never enough for a person who finds fault in your mere existence. But, the minor chords swell back into major.

‘—The one light she had aside from her mother was her best friend, Li Jing. Where she would endure that abuse at home, she would endure teasing and ridicule from her classmates as well. Li Jing was the only one who stood up for her, protected her, much like her mother would do at home. She saw Li Jing as comfort, safety. Someone to trust. Things she didn’t get to experience at home.
Once her mother had died, Li Jing was the only bit of good she had left in her life.’

It's a strangely melancholic major score. There is beauty in this pain: Yin and Yang.

‘—She’d go over to his house often, where they’d study together, watch shows together, eat together. They were inseparable.

The finale.

‘—Throughout every year of school, Li Jing stayed her friend, and always stuck up for her whenever he could. He even went to the same high-school as her, even though he had an opportunity to go to a school with a larger, well-known table-tennis team; one that often-raised Olympic champions.
Once they hit their freshman year of high-school, she realized she liked him. For years she’d try to admit that. But because of her past, expressing her thoughts and feelings meant pain and rejection. So she’d never say anything. Until now, where we came in.
Now we’re all caught up.
Now you know.’

Tears swell in his eyes, golden irises glazed in their moisture. They fall without sound, even as Stephen continues to yell at him, shouting and screaming with a tomato-red face. This poor girl has been through so much. A scarred and scary past, and a rough, turbulent present. He hopes that wherever she is in the now, back in the photo studio, however far ahead it is, that she’s found strength and peace.

Seeing tears rolling out of his eyes, Stephen backs off with a disgusted snort. “Get out of my sight already—You’re not worth it.”

‘To Zhao Anna’s room, now, Cheng Xiaoshi!’

He doesn’t hesitate; he bolts straight back. Turning down a hall, the last room on the right. He ducks inside and quickly shuts the door behind him. He rests against it, breath surprisingly heavy as he exhales.

‘Let me guess, if I didn’t move right there I would have been hit and altered the timeline?’

‘That’s right.’

‘Well, I’m in her room, what do I do now?’

Golden eyes glance around. It’s a small room and there’s not much décor. There’s a few painted butterflies on the wall in blue and purple and some small shelves with a few stuffed animals and plushies on them. The bed is a mattress on the floor with one old, flat pillow and thin, threaded sheets. There’s no closet in here, but does have a dresser at least. Atop it is a small pile of clothes, a clock, and a photo of Zhao Anna and her mother. Finally, there is one small desk with a small lamp, a few notebooks and pens, a tiny television with a VRC player attached to it, and a small VHS tape collection that’s less than 12 movies. One of the tapes appears unmarked.

‘The time is 5:57. Grab that unmarked VHS tape on the desk.’

‘Okay, what do I do with it?’ He asks, grabbing the tape in both hands. There’s actually a small label attached to the top and some writing in pink pen ink on it. Says ‘Go-Go Riza-Chan!’ on it.

‘Turn the TV on and feed the VHS tape into the player.’

Simple enough. It’s one of those old box TVs that still has buttons on the front; no need for a remote. He presses the on switch and the TV flicks on, the screen in front making the light hairs on his arm stick up; that static effect these old things have. He pushes the tape into the player, where it eats it greedily, chunking and whirring as the film sets.

‘Now change the channel to 8. That will be the channel that plays the program you’re supposed to record.’

‘Man, I haven’t had to do this in ages.’ Cheng Xiaoshi mentally laughs, the slender fingers of Zhao Anna hitting the ‘channel +’ button until channel 8 flashes in bright green on the right side of the screen.

‘Now press record.’ Lu Guang directs.

Just as he presses the record button, the commercial playing on TV gives way to the program scheduled at the 6 0’ clock slot. Lo and behold, the show is called ‘Go-Go Riza-Chan!’.

‘Every Tuesday at 6 o’ clock, if she can, she records this cartoon; it’s her favorite. More importantly, she records it for Li Jing, who doesn’t have cable TV.’

‘Guessing she takes the tape to school and he borrows it?’

‘Right. It’s something they can talk about the next day. It makes her happy, so Li Jing always indulges her.’

‘Sounds like a pretty good guy.’

But only 2 minutes into the show, essentially just after the intro finishes, a news broadcast cuts over it.

‘Oh man! That’s gonna ruin the recording!’

‘It will, but you need to let it play out. This is the last step in our job.’

“Tragedy occurs on the G1523…”

Cheng Xiaoshi’s eyes widen, pupils faintly shaking as he stares at the screen. Zhao Anna’s heartbeat stills before growing increasingly faster the more his eyes soak in. Loud in his ears, almost louder than the news anchor covering the story.

A sleek white and red charter bus is overturned on the highway. The very same charter bus that picked up Li Jing.

Though it’s not quite the highway either; the bus flipped over the guardrail. It’s dented and scraped beyond belief, pieces of the charter bus skid behind it, leaving a trail of wreckage. A fire bursts from the engine, leaping out into the evening sky as a thick column of smoke chokes the surrounding air. A morbid dance of heat and destruction billowing high. Students crowd the bus at a distance, traffic around them congested back an entire mile from the footage the helicopter provides.

Despite his heart nearly about to beat out of his chest and his golden eyes filling with powerful tears, the news anchor carries on.

“A bus carrying 16 individuals has crashed and overturned on the G1523. The bus was coming from Xiachengxin Town and heading towards Yujiao Town for a sports event. It seems the front passenger tire had blown out during the drive, sending the bus into a deadly spiral. Witnesses state the bus flipped 3 times before hitting the guardrail, where it came to an abrupt stop and caught fire shortly after…”

This… this has to be some kind of sick joke, right? There’s no way… After everything, this can’t be how it all ends? Right?

‘Lu Guang…?’

He’s not given an answer.

‘Lu Guang… w-what do I do now?’

Nothing.

“There are multiple casualties amongst the passengers and at least 4 immediate fatalities. Of these individuals, the deceased are…”

‘Lu Guang, please, tell me what to do…!’

“…Chun Laoyi…”

Still only silence.

“… Fu Xiaoru…”

‘Lu Guang… please…’

“… Xiang Zhi…”

There’s nothing they can do.

“…and Li Jing.”

It isn’t some sick joke. This is what happens: Zhao Anna loses the one person she could call a friend. She loses the one person whom she loved. The one person who respected and cherished her.

The one person who stayed—suddenly can’t stay any longer.

Tears fall freely from his eyes, blurring the TV terribly: he can’t even see the screen anymore. He tries to say something, anything, but all that comes out is broken, squeaky little gasps. The strength in Zhao Anna’s body saps, sends him to his knees with a thunk! A lifetime of pain with only one light to shine through her darkness, and it’s blown out like a feeble tealight candle.

It's just like Chen Xiao all over again—having to give away the words the living never got to say to the deceased in the past, before their unfortunate ends.

‘Is… is this why Qiao Ling didn’t want to tell me anything? Is… is that why… you went silent, Lu Guang?’ He doesn’t speak aloud, but his voice trembles and shakes as though he did.

‘…Yes…’ Lu Guang finally answers him.

In the body of Zhao Anna, Cheng Xiaoshi brings his hands up to his face, hides his eyes behind them and he weeps as softly as he can. He can’t help it. The body he inhabits is full of so much anguish and grief. There’s no way he can keep it all in. Her best friend—her only friend—is dead. The boy she’s loved for years, taken just like that. The boy who she records a show for, unable to watch the latest recording. The boy who always stood by her, no longer able to stand at all.

“The time is now 6:08 PM on this chilly March day, the confirmed number of fatalities remains the same at 4. Passing away just after the winter of the new millennium… our hearts go out to the families of the deceased. We will now—”

New millennium? Wait… what year is it??

Golden eyes shoot back up to the TV, where the time and date are stamped at the bottom right of the news report.

March 22^nd, 2000.

…2000…

He wasn’t even born yet when this happened; just a month shy.

Zhao Anna… she’s been holding on to this love and grief for over 20 years?? It’s like a knife in his chest, deep, twisting. How long to hold onto these feelings. How long to hold onto this grief. How long to both hope and to despair. Twenty. Long. Years.

‘Cheng Xiaoshi, you can leave the photo now—we’re done. You don’t have to sit through these feelings anymore.’

‘No.’ he shakes his head. ‘Even if it’s me in her body, she- Zhao Anna deserves to grieve.’

‘…Okay… take as long as you need.’

So he does. He weeps for her in this moment. Weeps for the pain she’s endured and the newest love she so recently lost. Because had he not been here at all, it’s what she would be doing—confession or not. She needs this, and no matter how much it hurts him, he’ll give it to her. This frail, meek body curls in on itself, and he lets it. He lets this body move how it needs to in order to heal from this hurt.

To lose the one you love—It hurts unlike anything. To lose anyone you cherish, it’s so gut-wrenchingly awful. He’s felt this in the bodies of others. He’s felt this in his own when his parents left. The pain of loss, of a piece ripped away violently that you can never get back; holes in the soul that might never heal the same.

For Zhao Anna? Who lost the only person who gave her light? Who’s felt that loss for over 20 years? He feels it—immensely. He couldn’t imagine losing a love like that.

If anything like that ever happened to Lu Guang…

The very thought sends a cold spike through his chest. Freezes the very blood in the body he inhabits. He was worried enough during their time in Bridon, when Lu Guang was sick with fever, calling him on the phone telling him ‘I need you’ with barely a sound. That was just when he was sick. If he were to, to die…

A memory flashes: a knife, blood, Lu Guang bleeding out, thinking he had lost him…

The grief is overwhelming. His emotions and memories combining with Zhao Anna’s loss and despair—it’s too much.

“AAAAGHHHHHH!!”

Clap!

A camera flash without the light, the noise fills the room as Cheng Xiaoshi returns to the present, back to the photo studio. Head held down, on his knees with tears in his eyes. His shoulders shake. He doesn’t pull his hands out of the clapping motion.

“Cheng Xiaoshi!”

Lu Guang’s voice not as an echo in his head, but strong in front of him. There’s a touch of tension in it, a pinch of concern that just barely warbles out with the call of his name.

Hands on his shoulders, gripping, holding. Not too tight, but not too loose. Sluggishly, Cheng Xiaoshi lifts his head up as though there were a weight on his neck to hinder his movement. Cedar eyes catch the sight of Lu Guang knelt on the ground in front of him, body highlighted in a faint glow by the moonlight shining through the window. Those eyes back to the slate gray they were before, but much wider than usual. A faint upwards pull to his brow, the way he grips his shoulders—he’s worried.

“Cheng Xiaoshi,” Lu Guang says, so much softer than before. The worry barely presses into the sound of his name. “Are you alright?”

A catch in his throat, Cheng Xiaoshi chokes on his swallow. Tears that have yet to fall shine in the moonlight with a rainbow film like that of a soap bubble. He sniffs, sound cracking on the inhale.

“Lu Guang…” He manages to choke out his partner’s name before the walls come crashing down. ‘Hh- Hh- Hh-” sharp, sobbing exhales blown out of his mouth stretched out into a deep frown.

His partner pulls his hands apart, out of the clapping motion, and drags him forward. An arm wraps around his shoulders, the other over the back of his head, a reassuring squeeze; a tight hug that both secures and cradles him.

“Ahhhhh-hh-hh-hh!” Cheng Xiaoshi weeps against him. His cries make Lu Guang clutch him tighter.

He knows he’s safe. That he’s back in the present. The job is done, the message delivered. He knows Lu Guang is alright; that the horrible tragedy that occurred to Li Jing did not happen to him. He knows he’s cared for and secure, but, he can’t help but weep against him on the floor of the photo studio.

Raw, broken cries that echo through the studio: All he can do is let them out. And all his partner can do is hold him tight; be the lighthouse in his storm, guide him through and back home.

The residual love and grief he felt as Zhao Anna lingers in his chest, pumps through his body with the beat of his heart. The unfortunate loss of Li Jing still swims in his head, the wreck on the news flashing through faintly. Couple that with the love and fear he feels now that he’s back in the present, being consoled by the partner that causes those contradicting emotions, he can’t help but be overwhelmed to the point of tears.

He’s no longer Zhao Anna, but he still feels like her. He too, has a war between love and uncertainty raging on.

A love in the past kindled and lost in a single evening,
A love in the now, unsure and unspoken in the moonlight.
A stab of grief and a pang of lost in the past,
An ache of uncertainty and yearning in the now.
A tragedy in the past,
The memories of an almost tragedy in the now.
The love he felt in the past,
The love he feels in the now.

They are one in the same, aren’t they?

Cheng Xiaoshi doesn’t know what to do nor say. He clings on to Lu Guang as tight as he can without hurting him. No matter what happened in the past, or what happens in the now; he will at least have this moment, this night. So he will feel, and he will hurt, and he will cry and wail until he tires himself out to the point of numbness, where the what if’s and the why’s and how’s can’t reach him for a while.

As if sensing the need to release the turmoil, Lu Guang speaks, and he speaks in such a calm, gentle manner. Different from his usual calm stoicism: a gentleness that honestly reminds him of his mother.

“It’s alright…” He quietly mumbles into his hair. “It’s alright…” Like a metronome: a soothing one that doesn’t tick or click, but produces soft, white noise.

Even after Chen Xiao’s job, Lu Guang hadn’t been this calming and gentle with him. He had hugged him of course, but it only lasted for a few moments. This one keeps going. This one lingers. This one has consoling whispers and emboldened softness: This one speaks in the silence.

This embrace says I’ve got you.
This embrace says you’re safe.
This embrace says I’m here.
This embrace says we’ll get through this together.
This embrace says let it out.

Let it out he will.

For now, for this night, wrapped up in Lu Guang’s comforting, white noise consolation, Cheng Xiaoshi will cry and pretend he’s already said the hard words, asked the hard questions. Pretend Lu Guang loves him just as fiercely as he does him. Pretend they’ve already said ‘I love you’ and that this is just a hard night. Pretend they’ll get through this night together as partners in every sense of the word. Pretend that there won’t be uncertainty tomorrow when the morning comes. Pretend that he won’t have to pretend not to be in love.

Just for tonight, pretending will be enough for him.

“Hey,” Lu Guang’s voice murmurs, kitten-soft.

Cheng Xiaoshi opens his cedar eyes to find Lu Guang with a faint smile on his face; only wide enough to tug the corners of his lips up a touch. A smile that reaches beyond his eyes, one that actually moves his face, if only slightly. Somehow, in one hand—that Cheng Xiaoshi didn’t even feel his partner remove—is his half-drank milk tea from earlier today.

“The ice is gone, but it’s still cold.”

Something good to look forward to after the dive, just as he said earlier. Like he already knew exactly how this night would end. How upset he would be, how he would know exactly what to do to get him to let out his emotions and calm him down. How to shift his focus and redirect his energy. As though he took a photo of today and foresaw everything Cheng Xiaoshi would say and do.

“Right…” He says after a sniffle, voice akin to a groggy frog. “Thanks.”

They pull away from the embrace, but not without passing off the drink, both of them remaining on the floor. Cheng Xiaoshi takes the straw into his mouth and sips, staring at the milk tea rising up through the straw before it enters his mouth. It’s a little watered down from the melted ice, but it is still cold; only a touch of lukewarmth on his tongue. Sweat beads cling to the cup, but even those still have some chill to them.

“Cheng Xiaoshi,”

“Hmm?” He looks up.

b-bmp~

Lu Guang smiles gently at him; in that neutral way he’s come to know where it’s barely in his face and mostly in his eyes. But the way the moonlight washes over him through the window makes those eyes glow bright, nearly as blue as they are when he activates his powers. Coats his skin with a velvety shine—angelically divine.

“You did good today.” Voice mellow, but just as ethereal as the moonlight glowing through the window.

b-bmp~

The milk tea tastes sweeter somehow.

“You’re being uncharacteristically nice tonight: What’s the occasion?” Cheng Xiaoshi deflects with stale sarcasm, distracting his nerves and harsh heartbeats.

He takes another sip, expecting some equally stale or flat response back. But he’s not given that.

“You… look like you’ve had a lot on your mind lately.”

He stops sipping.

“It’s not often you look so lost, distant.”

He stares at the straw, focuses on the beads of milk tea clinging inside.

“It never takes you long to bounce back but, you’ve been like this for a while now. I thought maybe…”

He stares harder at the straw, nearly frowning at it.

“…maybe I had something to do with it this time.”

b-bmp~

Lu Guang shakes his head faintly. “No, thought isn’t the right word here—I know it has to do with me.”

Bmpbmp~

“W-What are you going on about, dude?” Cheng Xiaoshi deflects once more, this time without the stale sarcasm; pure nerves bundling up. He refuses to look at him.

‘Stop it.’

“Lately, any time I’m around you, you go quiet. You stare. When I call you out, you’re quick to get nervous and you change the subject without acknowledgement.”

Bmpbmp~

‘Stop reading me like a picture book.’

“You’re reading too deep, man,” Cheng Xiaoshi waves off, trying his best to keep his nerves from spilling over into his voice. He distracts himself with another sip of milk tea. He can’t keep it up forever though: he doesn’t have much left.

“Am I?” Lu Guang’s voice is sharp, sleek.

‘Don’t make me say it; not tonight.’

“Pfft, sh’yeah!” Cheng Xiaoshi blows a raspberry. Another sip.

Bmpbmpbmp~

“Then what is it? Really?”

‘I won’t be able to handle it—the rejection.’

“I’m just extra wiped after this job is all. And the last few jobs we’ve done too, those were just as tough as this one.” Another sip.

Ugh crap, he’s almost out. He won’t have a reason to look anywhere else but up when he’s finished with it.

“Truly?”

Bmpbmpbmp~!

‘There’s no way you’d love me back.’

“That’s what I’m telling you, dude. It’s not that deep. You’re reading too deep into nothing. That’s a bad habit you know. You shouldn’t read so deep into everything; you’ll make your eyebrows white too.” Reflect, reflect.

‘So please…’

Bmpbmpbmp~!!

The last sip of milk tea, a harsh suck of air and bubbles through the straw. With that, it’s gone. He sets it down, taking his time if only to keep his eyes on it as long as possible.

“Cheng Xiaoshi, look at me.” Lu Guang demands.

And he does. With nowhere else to focus on, he does. Lu Guang stares hard at him, piercing through the moonlight. He knows without a doubt he sees right through his reflections.

‘…Don’t make me say I love you.’

“Be honest with me, Cheng Xiaoshi.” Laser-focused stare. “I’m only going to ask this once…”

Bmpbmpbmp~!!!

‘Please don’t make me say it…’

Lu Guang reaches out, grabs hold of his shirt, tugs him forward—and plants a kiss straight to his lips.

B-BMP.

Shock.
Surprise.
Disbelief.

Heart stilled, skipping beats the longer those lips lock to his. Lungs frozen solid in an inhale. Face hot, flushed completely red. Every muscle coiled tightly, ready to burst from the pressure. He- he can’t believe it. Lu Guang—stoic, chiding, calm, collected—advanced on him. He made the first move?!

After the way he spoke in the dive, about reserved, wounded people not wanting to pursue the ones they love exactly how they want. How they kept them around however they could out of the fear of ruining something good they already had. The way Lu Guang sounded a touch wounded himself, like he had been speaking from experience. To go from that, to making this incredibly bold move that Cheng Xiaoshi couldn’t even bring himself to do.

His partner put himself on the line, risked the rejection, faced the music, and readied himself for disappointment just for this one moment. It tells Cheng Xiaoshi one thing: Lu Guang had felt exactly the same as he did.
All this time.
He hid his feelings. He kept him at a comfortable distance. He kept him closely far just like he had been doing all along (even better than himself actually), because he never thought Lu Guang would actually fall for a guy like him. And now here he is, leaping forward and taking the chance in such a bold, almost reckless gesture.

How had they both been so blind?

When Lu Guang pulls back, Cheng Xiaoshi’s heart makes up for lost beats: it hums in his chest like a throbbing boat motor. Slate gray eyes just inches from his own, moonlight catching in them just right to make them glisten in an opal sheen.

“…Do you want me to do that again?”

…THAT’S what he was only going to ask once???

He doesn’t speak, but he does nod his head quickly with his face tomato-red.

“Then don’t make me do all the work.” Lips back to his just after.

This time he kisses back, closing his eyes and relaxing into it, not having been caught off guard. He just can’t believe it. He didn’t have to say a thing; Lu Guang read him through and took charge, took up the mantle, acted impulsively. Is he rubbing off on him? If he is, he’s not going to complain, because he’s kissing him for it!

This is all he needs to unearth these hidden emotions. These profound, chained feelings he’s buried 6-feet deep for so long. No more. No more hiding, no more reflecting. No more deflections and no more shifted focus. Being given this once in a million chance thanks to his partner’s sudden impulsivity, he’s not going to let it go to waste. Cheng Xiaoshi brings them all up to the surface—everything. Now that he’s been given the green light, he’s not going to inch through yellow ones anymore.

His hands come up and thread themselves in that white hair, finding it incredibly soft and thick. They smooth over to touch and caress his face, a soft, fuzzed leather like the flesh of a peach. Hearing the soft scrape of his breath in between their lips; it’s got his stomach in knots and his heart fluttering in his throat.

There’s a break, both of them breathing, nearly winded, just inches from the other’s face. Hot wind from their breaths coating their lips. Cheng Xiaoshi licks his out of reflex. Lu Guang swallows out of reflex.
Hesitant, he bobs his head forward, touches their foreheads together, wondering if it’s okay for him to take charge this time and kiss him again. It must be okay, because lips are back on his own again, soft and tender. He hums into it. This has him on cloud 9; never did he ever think something this exciting could be so soothing at the same time. He could do this all night.
But, they do need to breathe at some point. So before he can suck all of the air right out of Lu Guang’s lungs, he breaks the contact as gently as he can and smiles at him.

“So… does this mean I can call you Guang-Guang?” Cheng Xiaoshi teases, shifting the heady tone between them into something playful.

He’s given a flat look for that. “Don’t push your luck.” And he actually pushes his face away.

“Ack! Hey, what gives??” He gripes.

But there’s a playful fondness on Lu Guang’s face, a fondness that does pull his lips up into the shape of an arched bow: A full-blown smile on that usually hard-set face. It nearly turns Cheng Xiaoshi’s face red. He never smiles like that.

He smiles so beautifully.

“It’ll take you at least 10 home-cooked meals before you get to call me anything corny.” Lu Guang explains himself with the same playful energy they had before.

Cheng Xiaoshi smiles back, black brows arch. “Only 10, huh? I didn’t know you were so easy.” He slyly snickers.

But when he’s given a near death-glare from him, he’s quick to change his tune and fervently apologize.

“But uh,” he stammers on a different note, changing the atmosphere once more; the ecosystem that is Cheng Xiaoshi’s emotions always turning on a dime. “Does this mean we’re dating now?”

An exasperated sigh, but the bow-shaped smile still remains on that pale, creamy face. “What do you think?”

“…Yess?” He hesitantly hisses with his face just barely winced.

A light exhale blown out of Lu Guang’s nose. “Are you sure you want to go with that answer? I’m not convinced.”

“Oh, uh,” he blinks those cedar eyes, clears his throat. Then he puffs out his chest and points at him, in a loud voice proclaiming, “Yes! We are dating now! Lu Guang is going out with the mighty, yet humble, Cheng Xiaoshi~! Ha-ha!”

“Mm, yes. You’ll have to tell Qiao Ling all about it tomorrow.”

“That’s right! I’ll—!” Cheng Xiaoshi’s voice catches in his throat, a pitiful, cracked squeak coming out instead of words. “…Me?” He whimpers like a kicked puppy.

“Yes, you. I did all of the work getting you to admit your feelings tonight; you can do the rest of the work for getting this relationship off the ground tomorrow.”

“Lu Guaaaang~ don’t put me against the Landlady’s mercy!” Now he begs like a puppy.

“Mercy?” He folds his arms over his chest and the smirk on his face stretches just a tad devious. “You should be happy to tell her you’re finally growing up.”

“You just made it sound so much woooorse~!!”

Yeah, Cheng Xiaoshi is definitely rubbing off on him.

But, that’s not really all a bad thing either. Because of his influence, it’s gotten Lu Guang to open up a lot more. He’s more expressive than he was before; reactive and emotional. He used to be so closed off and kept to himself, even when they would hang out. But the more they talked, got along, the more of themselves they’d flake onto the other like gold dust. Whatever cracks left behind before, from the scars of their pasts and the pains they carry with, they’d find a way to mend, lustrous and bright.

Lu Guang checks the time on his watch, making a faint, noncommittal noise. “A bit late for dinner.” He says.

“What time is it?” Cheng Xiaoshi raises his head higher, like a meerkat peeking out of a burrow, seeing if he could steal a glimpse of the time himself.

“Quarter to 9.”

“I mean it’s not that late for food. We could still have something light?”

“Maybe you can,” Lu Guang mentions, finally standing up from the floor after what felt like an eternity. “I don’t like to eat this late.”

“You mean you just stay hungry until you go to bed?? Dude!!” Cheng Xiaoshi leaps off the floor, a little wobble from tingling, fallen-asleep legs. “No-no-no, you are eating something.” He quickly tuts and points at him.

“I’m not hungry.”

Grrlgl~

As if to betray him, Lu Guang’s stomach growls. He frowns at it with flatly annoyed eyes, as though he could control every function in his body like a monarchy.

“Well that doesn’t sound like full to me. C’mon, we’re eating.”

“Cheng Xiaoshi, I really—”

“Bup-bup-bup! No buts!”

Cheng Xiaoshi has already grabbed hold of his hand, clearly not taking no for an answer based on how he tugs him along towards the kitchen.

“We’re dating now and no boyfriend of mine is going hungry! Late meal or not!” He proudly states.

Lu Guang makes a faint noise, in between an inhale and an exhale; the sound caught and wobbled in his throat. No use arguing with him when he’s already made up his mind. So, with a sigh that’s more light than exasperated, he caves.

“Alright, but nothing too heavy—I don’t want to be kept up with indigestion when I go to sleep.”

“Not to worry—I know just the thing!”

‘There’s always something to worry about with you.’ goes unsaid, but reads clearer than crystal on Lu Guang’s deadpanned face.

Cheng Xiaoshi leads them out of the sunroom and corrals him straight up the stairs and down the hall, going to the room they share. Before Lu Guang can even move his hand, the door is already opened for him, and once more he is herded into the room like a sheep that strayed from the flock. He is not lead to the desk however: he is led straight to the slightly rumpled bottom bunk of their bed. (But not before the desk lamp can be turned on for light.)

A quick spin turns Lu Guang around in a half circle, hands quickly reaching up to grab his shoulders, where he is then—with gentle yet excitable force—pushed down to sit on the bottom bunk.

“Sit.” Cheng Xiaoshi says.

Not like he was given any other choice.

Best to let Cheng Xiaoshi do what he wants when he gets like this; it’s nearly impossible to get him to change his mind or alter his course. Once he’s on it, he’s on it.

“You just give me 20 minutes or so and I’ll have a tasty snack whipped up for us!” He winks playfully, walking backwards through the open door. He goes to close it, shutting the door with a speedy, yet soft click.
That door stays closed for precisely 2 seconds before his head pops back out with the speed of a whip. “No peeking!!”

“I can see through photos, not doors.”

Cheng Xiaoshi exhales hard, fluttering his bangs with his breath. “Alright then, Mr. Wise Guy.” He playfully mocks before closing the door again.

Only then do the sounds of his footsteps fade away from the door, half-shuffling, half-bouncing back down the hall towards their tiny kitchen.

Lu Guang shakes his head faintly, but keeps himself sitting. He checks the time on his watch: 8:57. Nearly 9PM now. Whatever it is Cheng Xiaoshi decides to cook up in the kitchen, he hopes it isn’t too rich or filling. The last thing he needs is indigestion before bed; that does not help his dreams any.

They’re already turbulent enough­—no need to exacerbate them further.

It’s why he doesn’t like to eat an hour or so before he goes to sleep. Digestion is harder on the body when it shuts down for sleep: The metabolism slows, the muscles must work harder than usual, firing off more brain activity to keep everything moving when said digestion should have been cleaned and closed for the night hours prior. Disrupting that leads to more work on the subconscious. Leads to more activity in the brain. Leads to more turbulency. Leads to more bad dreams. Ergo: leads to overproduced nightmares on a million-dollar budget.

Awful, awful things that like to repeat the same motifs over and over and over and over again.

And they always circle back—tried and true, time and time again, as steady and sure as the hands of a clock—to Cheng Xiaoshi.

Dreams of blood.
Of lifeless eyes.
Empty promises.
Choking breaths on rivers of red.
Gold into black.
Gold into blue.
Go back.
Go back.
Save them.
Save him.
You can’t save them.
You can’t save them.
You can’t save them.
You can’t save them.
YOU CAN’T EVEN SAVE THE ONE YOU LOVE.

Lu Guang shakes his head, leaned forward with his hands tangled up in his hair, breathing out a loud, shuddering exhale. What is he doing thinking about that? He knows better. Dwelling on that… it won’t do anything but make him spiral. He can’t spiral, not tonight. Not tonight. Not tonight.

Not on the first time in any of his timelines where Cheng Xiaoshi actually admitted his true feelings for him.

The first time he ever decided to throw his cards down on the table, forfeit his hand, and kiss him.

Tonight is not the night to spiral.

He’s lost count how many times he’s seen him die. Bleed out in that massive puddle of his own blood on the floor. Heard him choking on his voice, swallowing the sound as he begs ‘please save them’. So- many- times.

But this is the first time in all of these repeats and re-do’s that his best friend is more than that now. The first time that…

That they’re partners—in every sense of the word.

So don’t think about it.

Don’t think about the countless losses that have occurred to get to this point.
Don’t think about how many times he’s heard a bullet meant for him rip through flesh and bone that’s not his own like nothing.
Don’t think about the overwhelming guilt and grief and heartache and anger that comes with losing his best friend.
Don’t think about those dying words.
Don’t think about holding that cold hand.
Don’t think about the gold life in those eyes draining away.
Don’t.
Don’t think about it.
Stop thinking about it.
You should really stop thinking about it.
Stop thinking about it before you start—

“Lu Guang??”

…Huh?

Leaning back up and ripping his hands out of his hair with lightning speed, Lu Guang glances up in surprise, only to find himself face-to-face with Cheng Xiaoshi; who has knelt in front of the bed with his hands planted on the mattress on either side of him. Why does he look so blurry and sun-bleached? How come he doesn’t see or smell the snack he was making?

“Hey- why are you crying, are you okay??”

He’s not- no, he’s just—when did he start crying? And his nose is all stuffed up too. But when…?

“I’m not- it’s nothing.” He says much too quickly with a voice far too choked and warbled to pass for anything but, glancing away from him to hide in plain sight.

“No, it’s not ‘nothing’! I come in here with our snack and find you leaned over, gripping at your hair, shaking like you’re cold and crying!” Cheng Xiaoshi quickly shuts down his dismissal. ‘That’s not ‘nothing’!” He actually sounds angry.

“I’m fine.” Lu Guang sniffs, raises his hand up to wipe the tears from his eyes, to hide the evidence.

But Cheng Xiaoshi grabs his wrist, stops him right in his tracks. Which does pull a faint noise of surprise out of his throat. But he still keeps his eyes on the bed. He can’t look at him, can’t see the angrily worried expression he knows is stamped on that face. If he looks at that face now it’s just going to morph into the face he wears the day he dies. He just can’t do it.

“Lu Guang, people don’t just cry for no reason and then say they’re fine! Something obviously upset you. Upset you enough to… bring you to tears… You don’t cry, Lu Guang: Not like this.”

He stays quiet, eyes staring hard at a crease in the shape of an airplane in the sheets.

“I want to help. We’re partners now, Lu Guang. Like, actual all the way in every way partners—not just for work anymore. So if something’s bothering you, please…” That voice nearly pleads with him, the anger gone; replaced with something wet and torn.

“It’s…”

He goes to say ‘it’s nothing’ again, but he knows Cheng Xiaoshi. He knows repeating that is going to make him more combative, more laser-focused to get to the root of his problem. And as much as he likes him, respects him, loves him… he can’t tell him the truth. Not all of it, anyway.

“…It’s nothing you can fix.” He says instead.

Cheng Xiaoshi exhales through his nose rough, but he doesn’t challenge further. “Can’t fix it, huh?”

He lets go of his wrist, but takes it upon himself to reach out, and with his thumb, tenderly wipe away the tears from his gray eyes. Which makes Lu Guang quietly, sharply inhale through his mouth. When the tears are gone, that hand brushes across his cheek, lingering for a brief moment, before gently guiding his face forward, to look at him directly. Coaxing ‘hey, look at me,’ without needing to say it. His hand is so warm, just as warm as the cedar browns of his eyes that seem to glow in the lamplight.

“Does this at least help?” His voice honey-sweet.

Warmth.
A pulse just below the palm, a faint throb from the wrist against the bottom of his jaw.
Such a soft, loving look in those eyes.
Truly wanting to help and save in any way he can.
Ever the saint, ever the savior.

“Yeah…” Lu Guang admits, voice carried on a soft exhale.

“Good.” A soft but bright smile given. “But you know, you did let me cry my eyes out against you after the dive. So if you need to do the same, I got you.”

Not tonight—they’d be there all night if he were to unleash the violent storm of his emotions.

“No, I’m fine. What was the snack you made?” He asks instead, taking a page from his partner’s book and redirecting the energy.

“Ah! Yes, the snack!” Cheng Xiaoshi carefully takes his hand away.

Lu Guang’s cheek is warm from where his hand cradled his face.

“You are in for an absolute treat!” Quickly shuffling over to the desk where he had set their snack, he procures a small plate. He shuffles back, same energy, same speed. “Ta-da!!”

It’s a small serving of pork dumplings, complete with a small bowl of hoisin sauce to dip them in and two pairs of chopsticks nestled on the edges of the plate. Steam faintly rises from the dough that has a lovely brown crisp to the skin, but also a shiny glaze; telltale of the warmth and moisture inside. There’s 6 of them on the plate, about the size of a child’s fist. Not too filling, not too heavy: A good, bite-sized snack.

“Nothing says light and delicious like a fresh pork dumpling!” Cheng Xiaoshi beams before plopping himself down on the bed, a wave of motion shocking the mattress to bob them both a little.

“You actually delivered.” Lu Guang warmly chides as he takes a pair of chopsticks.

“What do you mean actually?” A flat frown on the former’s face.

“Sometimes you go overboard when you cook.” Lu Guang points out, grabbing one of the steamy dumplings from the plate.
“You say you’ll whip up something quick and easy and then there’s a 3-course meal in front of me.” He says, dipping and holding the dumpling in the salty brown sauce.
“Not that it’s a bad thing,” A faint shake of his head, taking the dumpling from the sauce and letting it hover over the bowl, so it won’t drip on the bed. “You do make good food, so I don’t like to waste it. Hence—you delivered.” He pops the dumpling into his mouth and chews.

The savory flavor of the ground pork ignites against his tongue, taste buds in nirvana with the soft texture and delicate spices: a touch of ginger, a dash of salt and pinches of pepper. It meshes well with the cabbage; moist with a faint crunch, adding even more flavor to both dilute the kick from the ginger and sweeten the pork. The wanton paper is smooth against his tongue, nearly wet inside from all of the moisture inside, but the outside browning from the cook gives it a nice flavor that compliments each component perfectly.

“Score 1 point for me then.” Cheng Xiaoshi wiggles his head with a proud smirk, taking up the other pair of chopsticks. “Just 9 more meals like these and I get to call you something corny. I gotta start thinking up some super sappy pet names~”

The faintest of blushes assaults Lu Guang’s face. “You do know I was joking when I said that?”

“I dunno, were you?”

“…” Lu Guang frowns at him as he eats another dumpling.

“Oh, don’t be such a wet cat, Guang-Guang~”

This time, Lu Guang—with a face pinker than peonies—takes a dumpling and shoves it in Cheng Xiaoshi’s mouth himself.

“Hurry up and eat already.” He huffs.

Cheng Xiaoshi giggles as he chews. When his mouth is clear, he mentions, “Next time you decide to shove a dumpling in my mouth, dip it in the sauce first so I get all that flavor.”

Lu Guang fights every muscle in his face to not roll his eyes at him, distracting himself by eating the 3^rd, and his last, dumpling for the night.
Around his chewing, he wonders what he ever saw in this dork. But any time he thinks that thought, he never has to ruminate on it long. He knows exactly why he likes him. Knows exactly why they’re friends. Knows exactly why he loves him. Really, it’s his own fault for getting attached at this point.

Who knows, maybe it would have been easier in the end if he never met Cheng Xiaoshi: It would spare him from the future heartbreak that’s to come round again if worse comes to worst.

But…

Slate gray eyes look, really look, at him. Watching as he eats a dumpling with a smirk; a bright light in those warm cedar eyes at having soaked his dumpling (more like drowned honestly) in the hoisin sauce before eating it. When he catches him looking, that smirk turns into a big smile.

Not ever meeting him might hurt worse than losing him over and over. Cheng Xiaoshi is bright, like someone captured sunlight itself and mixed it with his soul. He’s expressive, always wearing his heart on his sleeve and his thoughts on his face. He speaks his mind, whether or not you actually want to hear what he has to say. He’s naïve and innocent, who truly believes there is good in everyone, that everyone can be saved. A man who will do anything he can to save those that need saving, even if it means putting himself in harm’s way. He’s stubborn and persistent, if he decides you’re his friend now, that’s that—no room for argument.

Cheng Xiaoshi is a bright, nearly blinding soul like no other.

It’s why Lu Guang will replay these timelines, twist these fates, and solder their red strings together over and over again. He needs his light. He will shred the film of destiny that binds Cheng Xiaoshi in a cycle of death and he will rip him from it screaming.

“You’re staring~ You want another dumpling after all?”

“You have hoisin sauce all over your face.” Lu Guang deflects quickly.

It works: Cheng Xiaoshi makes a choked noise and wipes at his mouth with the back of his jacket sleeve.

(As if he’s going to just come out and say ‘Oh yeah, I’m thinking about how you die and how to to pull you out of that fate with my own hands kicking and screaming and giving destiny and everyone else that wants to take you away from me a huge middle finger’. No.)

“Besides, you already ate the last one.” He mentions, pointing to the plate.

Cheng Xiaoshi’s eyes go right to the plate, nearly surprised to find it empty. “Yeah, you’re right about that!” He laughs and rubs the back of his head. “I’m going to take this plate back to the kitchen and then we can get some shut eye!”

As Cheng Xiaoshi hops up from the bed with plate in hand, Lu Guang checks the time on his watch again. 9:48. Close to 10 already. In fact, as Cheng Xiaoshi leaves the room, the time changes to 9:49.

While he’d like to stay up for at least another hour so the small snack he ate could digest a little more, he doesn’t want to stay up until almost 11 for that. They both promised Qiao Ling they’d deep clean the studio tomorrow, and the sooner they can get started on that the better. Therefore, going to sleep around 10 with the expectation of a full 8 hours of sleep for the night would have him estimated to wake up around 6 in the morning, give or take a few minutes. Qiao Ling mentioned she would be over to help around 8, so that would give them plenty of time to get up, get ready, and have breakfast before they’d all start cleaning.

It's a start, at least. Whether or not it goes according to how he wants it to go will rely on his partner: who has a habit of sleeping in and taking a long time to get up.

“Plate is in the sink for Future-Me to wash tomorrow!”

Speak of the devil—Cheng Xiaoshi steps back in the room, dusting his hands off as though he already washed the plate.

“Why not just wash it tonight? We have enough cleaning to do tomorrow as is.” Lu Guang reminds.

“Why, my dear Lu Guang the answer is simple!” Cheng Xiaoshi dramatically flourishes. “I just don’t want to.” Into an immediate, light-hearted deadpan.

He sighs, shoulders slouching. Of course that would be his answer.

“Besides all that, we need our sleep!” He adds, matter-of-factly as he sheds his jacket, letting it slide off his shoulders and down to his elbows. “That was a pretty intense dive we did today.” He says, tugging one of his arms free from the sleeve, then doing the same with the other.

“It was.” Lu Guang can agree with him on that.

He may not have had to dive in completely, but he had seen everything. He can relate to Zhao Anna: terribly so. Having to lose the person you love… it hurts. Even if you never had the chance to admit it, let it flourish and grow. Like a bud just beginning to pop from the soil, but only in the dead of winter, where it will soon wither and die just as quickly as it came to life.

“After that, it was an eventful evening too.” Cheng Xiaoshi adds, a touch of wistfulness in his voice as he hang his jacket on the back of the desk chair.

From his peripheral vision, Lu Guang sees him trace his index finger over his lips. Like the kiss he surprised him with is still buzzing against his flesh.

“Yeah…”

“I gotta say, that was pretty out of pocket from you.” Cheng Xiaoshi slowly spins on his heel, leaning back against the desk as he crosses his legs at the ankles. “Usually it’s me who does the impulsive actions. So, what made you leap?”

How many times had he seen that crossroad?
How many times had he lived through it?
How many times had he not done anything?
Out of fear-
Out of denial-
Every time.
Except this one.
So,
Why did he leap?

“I suppose I got tired of guessing.” Lu Guang folds his hands in his lap, staring down at them with heavy gray eyes. “Got tired of the same fight: Always choosing the path I thought… would hurt the least.”

Cheng Xiaoshi makes a faint noise, like a rebuttal caught in his throat, but he doesn’t speak.

“I decided that, if it’s going to hurt no matter what—”

If you’re still going to die again this time.

“—Then I want to make it count. I know I have regrets, and I know I will in the future, but…” He looks up, stares directly at him with stone-hard eyes. “I don’t want not loving you to be one of them.”

Cheng Xiaoshi’s cedar eyes widen, a faint yet strong inhale filling his lungs before it freezes; a noise just barely audible between their close distance. For a split second, there’s a shine in them, a circular flicker in the lamplight. For a rare moment, the ever-talkative puppy that is Cheng Xiaoshi, has no words. He uncrosses his ankles, pulls himself away from the desk, and walks up to him with slow intent, stopping just inches away from him.

They stare, slate against cedar.

Cheng Xiaoshi’s knees drop to the floor and Lu Guang finds himself pulled into a large, swallowing embrace in what feels like an instant; his nose flush against a warmed neck. The scent of tinder, roasted marshmallows and sandalwood mingle in his nose, pooling all the way down his throat where he swallows the scent. It’s comforting: It’s home.

“Me too.” Cheng Xiaoshi exhales, warm breath tickling against Lu Guang’s temple. “So, thank you, Lu Guang, for taking that leap when I couldn’t even bring myself to hop.”

Slowly, unsurely, he brings his arms up, hovering just above that slim yet broad back. A back that has shielded him. A back that has always had his. His Atlas.

“Go ahead.”

Lu Guang hugs him back, squeezing his arms around the back that carries him forward. He closes his eyes, inhales that comforting, home-like scent that Cheng Xiaoshi wafts like a fragrant incense. There’s a hand in his hair, firm yet soft: It cards through each lock of white with tinder precision, like it had been done time and time again. He finds himself melting into it, a warmed knife through room-temperature butter. Like he’s fused into his very body, their hearts beat in tempo; a slow waltz in between their ribcages.

This feels right.

A link that’s finally clicked into place.

“Hey, Lu Guang?” Cheng Xiaoshi’s voice nearly purrs against him, gently vibrating his head.

“Yeah?” Sounding so relaxed it nearly surprises him. When was the last time he ever felt so at peace? He can’t remember.

“I know I fidget a lot in my sleep but, for tonight, do you think… you’d be open to laying down with me?”

Sharing the same bunk… It’s true he tosses and turns and talks in his sleep. But this warmth, this embrace, to have more of that, even for just a little bit longer…

“I’d be open to it.” He agrees on an inhale.

Cheng Xiaoshi hugs him a little tighter, a bright-eyed boa lovingly squeezing him. “Then we best get ready for bed, huh?”

“Mm.” A hummed agreement breathed out in no hurry.

They take their time parting, every touch lingering. Fingers sliding against skin, brushing over palms, fingertips locked for just a second before they release.

No matter what pain comes beyond this—for this moment in time—it’s worth every bit. These re-do’s get so draining, so exhausting. But at least for this night, there’s no need to plan and plot, to think about how to move at each intersection. No need to cross burned bridges, no need to carve out a third path at a fork in the road. Just for this moment, the hourglass is on its side: sand stationary in both flutes, quiet and still.

The only thing he has to think about doing is changing his clothes and climbing into bed.

So simple.

“Here.”

Actually, he doesn’t even have to think about what to change into. In the amount of time it took him to think about not having to think, Cheng Xiaoshi already grabbed a fresh change of clothes for the both of them. For him, a simple white and blue-stitched pajama set: a soft button-up with equally soft pants. For himself, a soft-cottoned black V-neck and gray polyester shorts.

“Thanks.” Lu Guang says, taking the neatly-folded set from him.

“I’d ask if I needed to look away, but we’ve already seen a lot of each other even before tonight, huh?” Cheng Xiaoshi smirks.

That’s for sure.

“Thanks for reminding me about all the times I saw your ass hanging out of the back of your hospital gown.” Lu Guang puffs, recalling the time they spent in the hospital together after that stint with the Li twins.

Like an old-school thermometer, red rises up Cheng Xiaoshi’s face from his chin to his forehead. “You stared at my ass while we were in the hospital??”

“Hard not to—you had to walk right in front of me to get to the bathroom.” Nonchalantly spoken as he slides out of his open button-up.

“Lu Guang, you scandalous dog, you!” His white shirt gets tossed at him. It misses and drapes off the side of the bed.

He can’t fight the smirk that barely quirks the corners of his lips up as he pulls his navy t-shirt off. He won’t admit it aloud, but it is amusing to get a rise out of him. Cheng Xiaoshi is very expressive, never hides what he’s thinking. His reactions are genuine and full of passion; an honest reflection of his soul. When he’s mad, you’ll hear it. When he’s upset, you’ll know it. When he’s happy, you will be too. He’s infectious in the best way possible.

“You healed up nice.”

Just like it always does with Cheng Xiaoshi, the atmosphere shifts on a dime. From the playful embarrassment to a thoughtful observation.

Lu Guang finds those cedar eyes staring at the scar slashed across his gut.

“Despite everything, I guess I did.” He says, his own eyes on it.

It had come open, what, 2, 3 times? He nearly bled out once or twice from it. He’s lucky. Well, he can’t really say that. It’s not luck: It’s all been pre-meditated. Keep things the same just long enough before he finally finds the one loose thread that results in Cheng Xiaoshi’s eventual sacrificial death and rip it out, snarling and snapping.

A chill blooms from his gut when warm fingers that aren’t his own splay over his scar. Cheng Xiaoshi is right in front of him again, gentle intent in touch that glistens tenderly in cedar eyes.

“I’m… glad you’re okay.”

Lu Guang’s eyes flit to the small, circular scar where Cheng Xiaoshi had been shot.

“Same for you.”

He was okay that time, at least. There will come a time where he won’t be okay. But, don’t think about that right now. Let the hourglass keep resting on its side, just for tonight.

He’s given a thoughtful smile. “Yeah, we both turned out okay in the end, didn’t we?”

“Mm,” A half-hearted agreement he doesn’t dare do more than hum for.

It’s not the end yet.
But in this moment, it’s the end of the night—not the end of a life.

“Sorry, I’ll let you finish changing.” Cheng Xiaoshi exhales through his nose with a faint smile, taking his hand away from his scar.

“It’s fine. Almost done anyhow.”

“Then, a well-deserved rest! We’ll need it for tomorrow.”

With all the cleaning they need to do, that’s an understatement. Last time they did deep cleaning for the studio they were at it until sundown. Sooner they lay down for the night the better.
Lu Guang checks his watch one more time as he slides out of his pants. 10:12 PM. That still makes for good time. Not to mention it gave him a little bit more time to digest those dumplings; hopefully the nightmares won’t be so volatile.

Sliding into the pajama pants is easy, they don’t cling to his skin like the stiff cotton of his every-day pants or catch around the ankles. They slide on without issue, even without standing up from the bottom bunk. Which is probably for the best, seeing as the moment he’s completely changed, Cheng Xiaoshi practically tackles him flat on the mattress with a laugh, making him exclaim with a choked voice.

“This is kinda exciting! It’s just like a sleepover!” He giggles, wasting no time in throwing the covers over them.

“We sleep in the same room, Cheng Xiaoshi—every night is like a sleepover.”

“But this is like, one of those cool sleepovers with pillow forts and midnight snacks!”

“We did not make a fort and those dumplings weren’t even served at midnight.”

“Heyyy,” Cheng Xiaoshi pouts. “Why are you being such a wet blanket?”

“Just go to sleep.”

Cheng Xiaoshi grunts, then retaliates by grabbing Lu Guang around the waist and pulling him close, cuddling him like a giant teddy bear. Lu Guang has no choice in the matter; he’s held so snug and flush against him they might as well be one in the same. All he can do is hum flatly with a peony pink blush blooming on his cheeks.

But it doesn’t take long for him to cave and melt into the embrace. It’s hard to stay mad at Cheng Xiaoshi’s pure, heartfelt warmth. There’s no doubt in the air or in his mind that he’s loved and cherished. Laying here in the bottom bunk wrapped up in these comforting arms, it’s sublime in ways he never thought possible.

“Good night, Lu Guang.” Murmured softly in his ear, followed immediately by a tender kiss to the back of his head.

Makes Lu Guang’s heart thump in his chest. But it’s a welcome sensation. Not to mention an action that relaxes him more effectively than a cup of chamomile tea.
“Good night, Cheng Xiaoshi.” Returned back, just as fond.

Heartbeats thump in sync gently in the night. Moonlight casts a soft beam of white against the floor in the shape of a rectangle, illuminating the dust that almost seems to wink like fireflies. Cheng Xiaoshi’s deep breaths gently blow against Lu Guang’s hair, a cool inhale like spring into a tepid exhale carrying a summery hotness. He can’t help but find his hands under the sheets and hold them tenderly.

Just for tonight, there are no worries; only tranquility. And they do sleep soundly.

Well, for a while. Until Cheng Xiaoshi starts humming a commercial jingle in his sleep.

PS: When Cheng Xiaoshi finally tells Qiao Ling he and Lu Guang are dating, she smiles and says ‘well it’s about time; You two were pining harder than fir trees.’