Archive of Our Own

To be loved is to be known. Mao knew Haoyu best of all. Was it such a sin for Haoyu to want to love him back? 

Haoyu knew many things to be true. One, Mao was the most beautiful thing he’d ever laid eyes on. Two, Mao was as strong as he was beautiful. Three, Mao was meant to be his. 

Four, unfortunately, Mao didn’t agree with Haoyu on any of these points. 

Mao believed Xinyi was Haoyu’s soulmate. For as smart as Mao was, he could never see past his own nose. Perhaps it was true for the other Haoyus. But not for him. Never for him. 

Haoyu liked to watch Mao. It was only fair after all. Mao had read about Haoyu, stared at Haoyu, and memorized every piece of his history for hours upon hours. He’d dedicated his entire life to the study of his existence. Mao’s bedroom was plastered from wall to wall with pictures of Haoyu. His devotion ran so deep that Mao could recite Haoyu’s own words back to him that Haoyu himself didn’t even remember saying. 

Nevermind the fact that those things could be said for Mao’s love of Xinyi as well. Haoyu was his favorite . 

Now it was Haoyu’s turn. To learn about Mao and study him so he could be an expert in him too. 

One of the first things Haoyu noticed about Mao was his hair. The way black strands curled around his cheeks, the red beneath that looked so soft to the touch. Haoyu longed to run his fingers through it. Just once without being stopped. 

Next was the red makeup around his blue eyes. Red and blue. Colors that were meant to be together. Worked so well together. They made something beautiful that Haoyu could get lost in. 

The curve of Mao’s jaw, the slope of his nose, how soft his skin looked despite all his hard edges. 

The way he smiled. 

Haoyu wanted Mao to smile at him. To be the reason Mao smiled. He would be happy to abandon his throne and everything he held dear to become a professional in making Mao happy. 

The sharp sting of paper hitting his head made Haoyu snap out of his reverie. He glanced up at Mao with a pout, remembering to tilt his head in the way that Mao seemed to like, and put on his best puppy eyes. The paper struck his head again. 

“Stop staring at me, you’re creeping me out.” 

Haoyu only leaned closer into Mao’s space. 

“The posters on your wall should have you used to my eyes on you.”

“They are posters. You are a person. It is creepy and you’re distracting me.”

“You think I’m distracting?” Haoyu’s fingers gingerly slipped around the folds of his robes, pulling the fabric apart to expose more of his chest. 

For once, Mao was unimpressed. He couldn’t even deign Haoyu with the dignity of looking away from his monitor for a second. “Can you really not help yourself for two minutes?” 

Before Haoyu had the chance to reply, Mao was already shoving his phone into his hands and pushing him away from his laptop. Haoyu stared at the metal brick in his hands with disinterest. How could he be distracted by a piece of trash like this when the love of his life was right in front of him?

“What am I supposed to do with this?” Haoyu asked. 

This wasn’t the first time Mao had done something like this but it didn’t make Haoyu feel any better. Recently, whenever Mao deemed Haoyu to be too annoying, he’d started handing off his phone. When Haoyu asked initially, Mao introduced him to the concept of an “iPad kid.” Haoyu didn’t see the appeal. Mao was much more entertaining. 

Still, Haoyu could take a hint. He opened the camera after a bit of fumbling and proceeded to take a few pictures of himself. As he was changing Mao’s background to one of the more flattering ones, Mao finally replied.

“Figure it out. You’re smart.” 

Haoyu sighed. He didn’t want Mao to exile him from his presence just yet so he acquiesced for now. After a few more painful moments of staring at the stupid screen in his hands in annoyed confusion, Haoyu decided the best course of action would be to do what Mao was doing but a few feet away so the silly kitty would tolerate him for a while longer.

ArchiveOfOurOwn , Mao’s screen read. 

What the fuck was that?

Haoyu sat on the floor, glancing between Mao and the phone with a slight frown on his face. He opened the browser like he’d been taught and slowly typed in the characters. The phone offered a suggested tab that Haoyu opened gratefully.

Emperor Haoyu/Mo Xinyi? By IfCatsWereGods?

What kind of screen name was that?

Haoyu glanced up at Mao, wanting to say anything productive to get his attention, but swallowing his words because being close to Mao would have to suffice for now. His MaoMao would love him some day. Until then, he would be patient.

Ish.

Attention once more on the screen, Haoyu skimmed the words hoping that maybe something would pop out at him and aid him on his quest to wooing the man he worshipped. 

Fluff? Reverse Transmigration Au? Cowyu ? 

Once more, Haoyu found himself staring at the back of Mao’s head with renewed intensity. Somewhere in there lied the answers to his prayers, questions, and freaky feral fantasies. He hoped with all his might that he might be able to see into his brain and pick around a bit to find out what he was thinking. He supposed that this Archive would be as close as he could get. 

ᓚᘏᗢ 

Struck by genius, Haoyu was not. Inspired? Definitely. 

Haoyu read several “fanfics” with his name plastered on them. If this was what Mao liked to write, then maybe he’d like to experience it too. These stories, although debatably out of character and illogical, compelled him. They were based on him so… what could go wrong?

ᓚᘏᗢ 

The first order of business was to arrange a scary movie date. This was somewhat familiar from the films Haoyu liked to watch. Haoyu wasn’t actually sure if this was a fanfic trope at all. However, in the fics Mao wrote, it usually revolved around Haoyu and Xinyi staying home and snuggling, accompanying the word “fluff” in the tags. 

If only planning dates was as easy as it was in fanfics. Haoyu had to be careful or else he was certain he’d end up scaring Mao off. Success hinged on Haoyu being able to make sure everything was both perfect but also just casual enough that Mao wouldn’t get suspicious of his intentions. 

During one of their regular dates (it wasn’t a date) Mao wandered around a bookstore looking for a new limited edition copy of the first volume of 2nd Life’s The Charm. Supposedly it came with new artwork, foiling, and painted edges. 

Why Mao wanted more photos of Haoyu (... and Xinyi) instead of looking at the real Haoyu standing right next to him, Haoyu could not say.

“MaoMao,” Haoyu began, leaning against one of the unoccupied walls. He pointed up at a very conveniently placed poster above his head for a new horror movie currently in theaters. “What is this?”

Mao didn’t answer immediately. His nose was dug deep into the danmei section, perusing through volumes of different series he’d heard about but would never betray 2LTC for. 

“Poster,” Mao settled on without looking.

Haoyu frowned to himself, glaring at the poster like it was its fault Mao was uncooperative. This was going to be more painful than he thought. And he’d been stabbed. Repeatedly. 

“It says there’s a movie.”

Mao didn’t feel the need to respond, so he didn’t. 

“I want to go.”

“Why?”

Ah, Mao. You beautiful, silly little thing. 

For fluff! For fun! For all the beautiful good things that would make you fall in love with Haoyu if you’d just let yourself.

“You’ve never taken me to a movie before.”

Mao finally turned towards Haoyu, exasperation written clear across his face. He lifted his hands like he was going to squeeze Haoyu, before lowering them to his sides with a calming breath. 

“Why this one? You like romance movies. Not horror.”

Haoyu smiled. Leave it to Mao to remember those details about him. God, Haoyu loved him so much it hurt. He spun back to face the poster, a menacing monster staring back at him, and pointed more insistently. “You like monsters, right?”

Mao’s attention shifted between the poster and Haoyu with narrowed eyes. He didn’t quite believe him. “We can fight monsters in real life.”

“Yes, but…” 

“Shizun.”

Haoyu stood at attention. 

“Why do you really want to go?”

“I already–”

“No. Be honest.”

Well, Haoyu wasn’t doing that. 

“I want to go to the movie theater and eat their overpriced candy?” Haoyu offered. He took several steps closer to Mao, intertwining their fingers. 

Mao didn’t bite. He shook his wrists out until Haoyu let go, poking him between the eyes like Haoyu was nothing more than a bratty toddler. “We can get candy without the movie.” 

“It’s not about the candy,” Haoyu tried to grab Mao again, only to fail because Mao slipped out of his reach with practiced ease. “It's about the experience.”

The glare Mao leveled at him had his heart beating hard. Anxiety and love felt eerily similar. 

Mao crossed his arms over his chest. Sometimes it was better to give in than argue with Haoyu but that didn’t mean he had to be happy about it. 

“Fine. Whatever.”

Success. Or something.

ᓚᘏᗢ 

The entrance to the movie theater was packed as they arrived. Haoyu stared at the large fluorescent signs and for a moment he almost considered going right back through the portal and taking Mao somewhere only he could see him. While he recognized that as a deranged line of thought, Haoyu never claimed to be normal. Especially about Mao. His fingers twitched at his sides as he restrained himself from grabbing Mao’s hand or doing something that would get them kicked out like pulling the fire alarm. 

Mao started walking without looking back to make sure he was following. Of course, Haoyu always would. 

When they reached the doors, Haoyu rushed to step in front of Mao, so he could be a true gentleman and held it open for him. Mao 

“Thank you?”

“Anything for you, MaoMao.”

Mao ignored that. Haoyu expected this and was not deterred. Once inside, he placed his hand on the small of Mao’s back, leading him through the crowd of people and towards the concession stand with a single minded focus. 

At the back of the line, Haoyu turned to Mao expectantly, whose attention was clearly elsewhere. That wouldn’t do. “MaoMao, MaoMao. Buy me something. Please?” 

Somehow, despite being significantly taller than Mao, Haoyu managed to look up at him from beneath his lashes. He’d been practicing for days. Leaning back, bending his knees, and making himself more submissive than usual seemed to do the trick.

Mao stared at Haoyu with a complicated expression on his face. He shifted his weight from foot to foot before pinching the bridge of his nose. “You’re a menace. I swear you only hang out with me so I can buy you things.”

Haoyu lit up, smiling so bright his teeth gleamed in the light. This only worsened the mildly constipated look on Mao’s face. “Untrue. I hang out with you because I’m in love with you.”

He couldn’t help it, okay? Haoyu was trying to be chill. 

“You’re not funny. Save those lines for Xinyi.”

Haoyu would not. Xinyi’s face didn’t scrunch up nearly as cutely when Haoyu said something he didn’t like. Mao forced Haoyu’s eyes towards the menus hanging above the counter, fingers locked under his chin so Haoyu couldn’t continue admiring him with that award winning smile of his, and slowly but surely the grin fell from Haoyu’s face. All that remained was confusion. 

He knew what popcorn was. It was an integral part of his master plan to woo his deity! The rest of it… certainly sounded like food. 

Sour patch kids were off the table by name alone because he didn’t like sour things (unless Mao is sour in which case it’s fine because he’s Mao, but Haoyu is just getting off topic here.) 

“What is an icee?” 

Mao pointed towards one of the machines swirling vibrant colorful liquids behind the cashier’s head. “It’s like frozen soda. You’ve had coke before, that’s one of the flavors.”

“Frozen like ice cream? Is it a type of soda milkshake?” 

“Not really,” Mao said, rubbing the back of his neck. The thought revolted him. A shiver ran down his spine before he shook it away. Haoyu melted at the sight. “Have I ever given you a popsicle?” 

“Popsicle,” Haoyu echoed slowly. It was not on the menu. “What is a popsicle?”

Mao didn’t quite know how to describe the nuances of frozen treat variants. Instead, he twirled a stray strand of hair around his finger. “I’ll just buy you an icee and you can decide if you like it or not.”

Haoyu watched the red and blue swirls in the machine like they were magic. The shades were unnatural. Haoyu decided he liked them anyway. Red and blue. If they kissed they’d make purple. He opened his mouth to say something else but Mao interrupted him. 

“They’re too sweet for me.”

Aw, damn. 

The line for concessions moved slowly. Haoyu didn’t mind waiting. He stood behind Mao, arms wrapped around his waist, and chin resting on the top of his head as he searched the expansive menu for something he wanted more than the man in his arms. Mao tolerated this behavior, though Haoyu was fairly certain it was just because it was comfortable to have his head pressed against his chest. 

Internally, Mao thought it would be beneficial to let him practice this kind of thing for his future Xinyi. Also the boob thing. 

As they got closer, and Haoyu could finally see into the glass display case of treats, he scanned over all the unfamiliar items repeatedly. Finally, he settled on one in particular. 

“I want Mao&Mao’s.”

Mao furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. He tilted his head back to study Haoyu’s expression. Haoyu looked stupid from this angle. It was cute. “ What? ”

Haoyu pointed to the brown box showing little colorful spheres with legs and eyes. “Mao&Mao’s.”

“M&M’s?” Mao asked incredulously. He attempted to break free from Haoyu’s grasp, but Haoyu only held on tighter. They both knew Mao could easily free himself if he really wanted to.

“Yes. Like H&M. Haoyu&Mao’s. We’re perfect together.”

That was Mao’s final straw. He wiggled out of Haoyu’s grasp, pinching him harshly in the side in reprimand. Haoyu winced, rubbed his hip, and grabbed Mao’s wrist, pressing a kiss to his knuckles. 

“Okay, I’m sorry. I’ll be good.”

Mao crossed his arms with a huff. “Why do I even put up with you? I need to find your Xinyi soon.”

Something ached in Haoyu’s heart at that but he brushed it off. “You love me. You just don’t know it yet.”

Mao pushed Haoyu’s face away with his hand, as though Haoyu was no more than a misbehaving puppy, and stepped up to the counter with a forced smile. The attendant in front of them appeared unfazed. They probably saw couples do this all the time.

“Welcome. What can I get for you?”

“Cherry icee and a pack of M&M’s please.” Mao reached into his pocket for his wallet when Haoyu interrupted, putting his hand over Mao’s. 

“A large popcorn too, please,” Haoyu said. He couldn’t believe Mao almost forgot the most important part of going to the movie theater. Mao, instead, looked at Haoyu like he’d shot him. 

“You didn’t say you wanted popcorn!”

“I didn’t think I had to. Popcorn is the traditional movie snack!”

The attendant was not paid to care, did not care, and didn’t have time for this. “Cherry icee, M&M’s, and a popcorn. Anything else?”

“No, thank you.”

Haoyu pulled away, leaving Mao to pay the total with an innocent whistle. It didn’t take long before Haoyu gathered everything into his arms and nudged Mao into the auditorium. Despite being close to showtime, and the theater being packed, the auditorium was almost entirely empty. 

It was important that they sat in the back row. Through his very careful research Haoyu had discovered the back was where all the couples sat for maximum romance. 

The movie was not very good. That’s probably why it was empty. Haoyu found that the real horror was his inability to accurately assess when Mao was going to put his hand in the popcorn bucket. He spent more time watching each twitch of Mao’s hand to make sure their fingers would brush over the buttery goodness with increasing rage than he did paying attention to the movie.

Every time Haoyu made his move, Mao’s hand was back in his lap before he was even halfway there. His grip around the cardboard M&M’s box was so tight that the ends popped open and spilled into his lap. Mao laughed when he noticed. The sound was a soothing balm on Haoyu’s frayed nerves. 

“Scared?” He asked, smiling up at him. 

Mao seemed more entertained by Haoyu’s mistake than he was by the film on screen. 

Haoyu was distracted by the way the flashing colors lit up his face for a moment and nearly forgot to nod. 

It was a lie. If he couldn’t have his moment with the popcorn bucket like the fanfic suggested, maybe he could take a trick from the romance movies he enjoyed. Haoyu would’ve preferred for Mao to be the damsel in distress but that clearly wasn’t going to happen. 

Hesitantly, Haoyu leaned his head onto Mao’s shoulder. Haoyu took it as a good sign when Mao didn’t immediately push him away. He was firm, solid, and unyielding beneath his weight. Haoyu traced a finger unconsciously up and down Mao’s hand. He didn’t notice the way Mao stiffened beneath his touch.

“Your skin is so soft,” Haoyu said quietly, reverently. In the arms of his god, nothing else mattered. 

Mao only managed to choke out two words. “That’s creepy.”

Haoyu laughed quietly. On screen, one of the monsters jumped out and attacked the main lead. The fabric of Mao’s shirt was silky against Haoyu’s face, comforting him when he hid his face away from the action.

“Thank you,” Haoyu said. 

“I don’t know how you’re scared of this thing. It doesn’t even look real. You faced scarier things pre-2LTC!” Mao stuffed more popcorn into his mouth to shut himself up. The motion partially dislodged Haoyu from his position. Haoyu huffed. He spoke too soon. 

ᓚᘏᗢ 

Walking out of the auditorium felt like a loss. The icee was good, and Haoyu liked seeing the way Mao’s lips wrapped around the straw (plus the subsequent grimace when the sweet taste hit his tongue). Mao&Mao’s were a success despite nearly being crushed to dust. But Haoyu didn’t get his popcorn moment! And Mao barely gave him a minute of cuddles before pushing him away!

Haoyu’s only solace was Mao’s total inability to shut up about things he was passionate about. 

The second the lights flipped back on, Mao was off like a bullet. 

“Really, Shizun! How stupid could they be? She was 21 and a star on the track team! How could she just trip over her own shoes once the monster started chasing her? It’s not like she just learned to walk! Protagonists in these movies are always so useless!”

Haoyu trailed behind Mao with a small smile on his face, watching the way Mao threw his hands up in the air in frustration. “Mn.”

“Don’t even get me started on the monster.”

Of course Haoyu was going to.

“What was wrong with it?”

“What?!” Mao opened a portal to his palace in the cosmic void, still ranting. “You could see the zipper on the back!”

Haoyu definitely did not. Granted, he was watching Mao for the majority of the movie, but whatever.

“The worst part about modern movies is that people think dark and gritty films need to be in literal darkness! No! You can’t see anything like that! The light comes from the same place the soundtrack does! Why are you spending millions of dollars to produce something so trashy! And another thing! The script! I’ve read better works on Wattpad!” 

Mao stomped over to his computer, booting it up and immediately opening GoogleDocs. Haoyu sat on the bed behind him, content to soak up the smell and comfort of Mao’s plush sheets.

“What’re you doing?” Haoyu prompted after Mao lapsed into silence. 

“I’m writing an au about the movie with Emperor Haoyu and Mo Xinyi.”

Goddammit. 

ᓚᘏᗢ 

Since the movie was a bust, Haoyu went to the next item on his list. The aquarium. Certainly this would yield better results… Right? 

ᓚᘏᗢ 

Haoyu studied his reflection in the mirror. He’d commissioned a seamstress to make a shirt for him like the ones he’d seen Mao repost his favorite characters wearing online. As one of those characters, Haoyu thought it was appropriate that he indulged this fantasy as well. The front said If Lost, Please Return to Mao. Haoyu adjusted the shirt, seeing the way it stretched over his broad chest and hoped Mao liked the fit. He grabbed the second shirt he had commissioned, then summoned Mao to his room. 

Mao looked frazzled upon arrival. Eyes wide, mouth open, hands clenching and unclenching at his sides. Immediately, Haoyu dropped the shirt and raced to his side, grabbing his waist to pull him closer for inspection. “What’s wrong?”

This did not help Mao’s distress. He squirmed away from Haoyu, but couldn’t help himself from giving him a quick once over either. “I’m fine. Just tending to a lot of Haoyus today. You guys certainly are a handful. Why did you call me? Did something happen?”

Haoyu’s shoulders relaxed. With a short shake of his head, he returned to his place by the mirror, picked up the shirt, and held it out to Mao. “Please wear this. I’ve made plans for us today.”

“I was working–” 

Haoyu gave him a flat look, waving dismissively. “Leave one of your clones to handle the others and go out with me.”

“I came because I thought something important happened,” Mao scolded. Something felt off with him, though Haoyu couldn’t figure it out. The clicking of his heel echoed in the small room as Mao tapped his foot impatiently. 

Haoyu raised a placating hand. “It is important. I bought us tickets to the aquarium.”

He offered the shirt more insistently to Mao who finally looked down and noticed what he was wearing. Mao snatched the shirt out of his hands. 

I’m Mao , the shirt read. 

“In case I get lost,” Haoyu said. A slow grin spread across his face with pride.

Mao scoffed, balling the shirt up in his hands. “Shizun is 6’4”. You won’t get lost.”

“You are tiny. It is a reasonable precaution. It was this or a child leash.”

Mao put on the shirt without further complaint. 

“Why the aquarium of all places? You’ve never shown interest in this kind of thing.” 

“Must you always question me? Can’t I want to spend time with my–” soulmate “-- best friend?” 

Haoyu opened a portal before Mao could react. He traded in their printed tickets for wristbands and waited patiently for Mao’s brain to turn back online after hearing Haoyu refer to him as his “best friend.” Neither of them had friends, so Haoyu wasn’t sure why he was so surprised. 

“You’re supposed to be practicing your cultivation,” Mao said. He fidgeted with the collar of his shirt, fanning air into his flushed face.

“I wanted to take a break. Besides, you’re always working. From the looks of it you need a break today too.”

Mao shook his head no. “I like working. It makes it harder to think.” 

“This is a distraction too, no?”

“I guess…”

Mao wasn’t really convinced. He allowed Haoyu to lead him around but it was clear to see how tense he was. Everywhere they went, Mao was walking with his shoulders up near his ears like a defensive shield. None of the exhibits interested him, try as Haoyu might to make it enjoyable. Penguins, sharks, and even the stingrays were all busts. 

It was so much more fun in the fanfics Mao wrote. Why wasn’t he enjoying himself? Xinyi loved the aquarium in these stories. 

As they approached the tropical creatures, at the far end of the path, Haoyu spotted a gift shop with stupid hats on display. He threw his arm over Mao’s shoulders and propelled him forward towards the shop. Mao was so lost in thought that he didn’t complain. The discomfort he felt was palpable. He kept looking left and right every second, cracking his knuckles so hard it sounded like it hurt. 

“Looking for something?” 

“I don’t understand what the appeal is or why you wanted to come here so badly that I had to stop working. There are too many people here. It’s hard to hear myself think.”

Haoyu was confused. Mao usually didn’t have a problem with crowds. He took care of several Haoyus and Xinyis every day. Plus, the movie theater was packed too and he hadn’t complained then. What’s wrong with the aquarium? 

“The appeal is cute animals, no?” Haoyu stopped in front of the hat display, tugging Mao out of the walkway so they wouldn’t disturb anyone with their conversation. 

Mao shrugged, avoiding Haoyu’s gaze. He dug his hands into his pockets before pulling them out and twirling his bangs around his finger. “I guess. I just– I wanted to work today.”

Ah. Whatever Mao was working on or thinking about before Haoyu called him away must’ve been important to him. What had his variants done to leave Mao so stressed? He was supposed to be untouchable. This wasn’t how Haoyu wanted their date to go. 

Haoyu pulled Mao’s hands into his own, rubbing his thumb over the delicate skin. Mao didn’t meet his gaze. The crowd of people outside the gift shop kept drawing his attention away. A gentle touch to Mao’s cheek brought his focus back to Haoyu. 

“Please, love. Can you deal with me for just a bit longer?”

Mao’s face flushed a pretty pink color. He opened his mouth to speak but no sound came out. Haoyu watched his eyes close, long lashes fluttering over his cheeks. The way he leaned into Haoyu’s touch unconsciously made his heart ache and soar simultaneously. On one hand, Mao felt safe enough to seek comfort from him. On the other hand, it was unfortunate Mao needed comfort at all on what was supposed to be a fun outing. Haoyu should have attended to his needs earlier instead of being dismissive. 

When Mao was finally able to speak, his voice was thick and distant. “Yeah. Sure.” 

Guilt gnawed at Haoyu; however, a small part of him could never truly feel guilty about having Mao’s eyes on him. He gently guided Mao back to the rack of hats, thumbing at the nape of his neck soothingly. 

Most of the hats were plain and inconspicuous. Those didn’t quite appeal to him. Basic logos, dark colors. Haoyu wanted something big! Something stupid!

Something to make Mao laugh. 

Fuck. 

Truthfully, the hat that had drawn his eyes in the first place was a big gaudy turtle hat with the shell making up the crown. Its little arms, legs, and head stuck out stupidly. They were thin and gangly and understuffed, but also cute enough that Haoyu wanted to see it on Mao immediately. 

Mao smacked his hand away the second Haoyu went to pick it up. 

Haoyu gasped, wounded. “Do you not like it?”

“No.”

“But-“

“It looks stupid.”

Haoyu frowned. His shoulders slumped forward. Again, all he could say was, “Isn’t that the point?” 

Mao pressed his lips into a thin line. After several tense seconds he relented, picked up the hat, and placed it on Haoyu’s head. Despite himself, Mao smiled. 

Something loosened in Haoyu’s chest at the sight. A sigh of relief fell past his lips. He’d seen Mao smile before. Mao was a cocky little asshole. It never failed to make him melt. 

“Put it on, please? One picture? And then we can leave? Or I’ll even pay for it.“ Haoyu offered. He patted the top of his head the way he would a live turtle.

Mao raised a perfect eyebrow at him. “You? Pay? With what money? You’re unemployed.” 

Haoyu stifled a laugh. He tilted his head forward so the turtle’s head was right in front of Mao’s eyes. Mao smacked the turtle hat like it was a cat toy. Or Haoyu.

“I have my ways.”

Mao rolled his eyes. The second turtle hat felt weighty in Haoyu’s hands, a makeshift crown as he bestowed it upon Mao’s head. It slipped down and covered his forehead before Mao pushed it up and out of his eyes. 

Haoyu wanted to kiss him stupid. 

Then the turtles on their heads could kiss too. 

“Give me your phone.”

Even though he asked, Haoyu didn’t wait for Mao to reach into his pocket, opting to stick his own hand into his jeans instead. He fished out the phone and turned on the camera, snapping a picture of them making silly faces at the camera. At the very last moment, the hat started to slip again, causing Mao to go cross eyed as he watched it fall. Haoyu had his arm wrapped around Mao’s shoulder, the hand beside his head making a peace sign. The photo, angled to include their shirts as well as the hats, was chaotic and stupid and Haoyu would treasure it forever. 

Decidedly, Haoyu did not want to pay for the hats. (Okay. He didn’t have money. Sue him.) He made a portal back to Mao’s palace and pushed him through.   

“Shizun! You said you were going to pay for it!” Mao smacked Haoyu upside the head. 

Haoyu rubbed the side of his cheek, a smile creeping onto his face. “They’re a billion dollar company. They can afford two hats going missing.” 

The angry expression on Mao’s face at his words, that was priceless.

ᓚᘏᗢ 

“I’m sick. I’m also dying. I might explode. This is the end of the line for me.”

Haoyu laid on the couch, an ice pack on his forehead, and a blanket draped over him. He resembled a sickly Victorian child– except all drama, no symptoms. 

After the failure that was the movies and the aquarium, the next stop on Mao’s fanfic journey was a sick fic. Haoyu spent all night reading one of these so-called sick fics and could not figure out a way to get himself sick while still being able to enjoy Mao’s care. The fic he read had a sick Xinyi with Haoyu taking care of him. Fic-Haoyu ran fic-Xinyi a bath, washed his hair, brought him soup, and cuddled him to health. 

Haoyu wanted that. So bad.

“You’re not dying. In fact, I don’t even think you can get sick naturally. Did you touch something you weren’t supposed to? I’ll beat your ass before your ‘cold’ has the chance if you put yourself in needless danger.” 

Mao unsheathed one of his swords, holding it threateningly over Haoyu’s head. Haoyu whimpered, weakly batting at the sword, barely keeping a sniffle at bay. 

“MaoMao is cruel… MaoMao is hateful… MaoMao hates Hao-ge… hates Hao-ge like MaoMao hates little treats… ah… Little treats… I will miss you most dearly.” 

Mao pushed the blade against Haoyu’s throat. 

Hot , Haoyu thought. Wait, no. 

“Hao-ge will be happy to die by MaoMao’s blade… it will put Hao-ge out of his misery…” 

“Shizun!” Mao pulled the blade away from his neck but smacked him on the top of the head instead. “You’re insufferable! I know you haven’t gotten sick since that time you were poisoned by the advisor with the mangled ear!” 

Man, what the fuck. 

Mao couldn’t even pretend or indulge him in a bit of role play? He wrote like three stories with this trope for Haoyu and Xinyi!

For a brief moment, Haoyu considered actually going out and finding some random plant to get himself ill. The pout on his face must’ve given him away because Mao immediately knew what he was thinking. Another sharp smack was delivered right to his boob. 

“Are you insane? Do not get yourself sick! I will not take care of you and you don’t have your own Xinyi to do it in my place. Don’t tell me you forgot what happened after your poisoning?”

Haoyu tugged on Mao’s sleeve, pouting. He did not want to relive his younger years like this. All Haoyu wanted was a bit of coddling. 

Mao lapsed into silence before deciding the information needed to be said anyway or he’d be the one to explode. 

“One of your wives found the cure. Her father was the nasty advisor. In her misery, she stumbled upon the antidote while in his study. Finding the requisite flower almost caused her to lose her eyesight. In 2LTC, Xinyi had found it. He kept a diary full of all the information about plants or beasts that he could when he transmigrated so he wouldn’t forget as he got older. To make things easier for you both.”

Even when talking about Xinyi, all Haoyu could focus on was Mao. The way his eyes sparkled, the slight bounce with every word because he really couldn’t keep his excitement contained, and how soft and kissable his lips looked. 

Discussions about his wives made Haoyu mildly uncomfortable but they weren’t intolerable. Some things pushed his buttons more than others. Haoyu liked listening to Mao ramble about 2LTC because of how passionate he was. But he couldn’t think about either too long lest he feel unworthy. 

Unworthy of a Xinyi.

Unworthy of Mao.

A survivor at what cost?

Forget it. Maybe Haoyu wasn’t being taken care of the way he wanted but being scolded was good too. Mao’s attention was all on him and that’s what Haoyu really craved, wasn’t it?

ᓚᘏᗢ

Scratch that.

There was nothing that Haoyu wanted in the world more than what he had in his arms at the moment. All the money, power, and women in the multiverse held no appeal to him. He’d trade everything he had to keep Mao to himself a little longer. The only light in the room was that of the soft glow of the tv playing Mao’s favorite program. Commentary videos on 2LTC. 

Haoyu didn’t really care for the man on screen’s theories, plot descriptions, or character opinions. His mind was zeroed in on more important things. 

Mao sat in front of him on the couch, cozy beneath a soft fluffy blanket, their legs tangled together. Haoyu used illusion magic to mimic the sound and appearance of rain outside the palace window. It was subtle, barely noticeable strings of magic humming under the air. If Mao noticed it, which was unfortunately likely, he let it be. 

Things like this brought Haoyu a type of joy he hadn’t felt in a very long time. Some of the fanfics he’d read from Mao’s bookmarks combined rainy evening cuddles with sick fics. One of them would sit out in the rain and fall ill, needing the other one to take care of them. Haoyu wanted to experience that sort of cosseting and pampering even more after his last attempt at poorly executing a sick fic. He was certain another attempt wouldn’t go over well. 

Sleepovers sounded fun too. Face masks, silk robes, and having his makeup done while Mao sat on his lap. There wasn’t a fic for that… yet.

Sitting inside, not sick, to merely enjoy each other’s company was something people in his romance movies did as well. Haoyu was lost in thought, dreaming about a far away winter where they could watch snow fall through the windows, dress up in puffy jackets, play with each other, and then come back inside to drink deliciously sweet hot chocolate and warm each other up. 

Mao was always beautiful, but Haoyu especially liked him at times like this when he was relaxed and disarmed. His eyes were half lidded, barely peeking out from beneath the blanket, sleepy and sweet. Tufts of hair stuck up on the back of his head, curling every which way except down. Haoyu watched the way Mao’s fingers gently traced up and down the faux fur. He was in his own world and Haoyu desperately wanted to be included in it. He gently inched his hand closer to Mao’s and hoped he wouldn’t notice. 

But things never went Haoyu’s way. 

When it came to Mao, he would always find a way to surprise Haoyu and make him rethink everything. 

Thus, the second Haoyu’s fingers got close enough to touch, Mao slapped his hand away with a smack so sharp and loud in the quiet room that Haoyu jumped in his seat and fell off the couch. 

“What was that for?” Haoyu cried, looking back up at Mao, distraught,, blanket tangled around his body like a naughty kitten burritoed for his crimes. 

“You scared me!” 

Mao looked grumpier about the fact that Haoyu had taken the blanket with him than he looked concerned about Haoyu’s fall. He pawed at the blanket.

“Scared? You’re so full of shit, you don’t get scared!”

Haoyu didn’t get a chance to crawl back onto the couch before Mao flipped him on his ass. In seconds Mao had pulled the blanket he was trapped in free then wrapped it around his shoulders. Silence reigned for a painful fifteen seconds.

After that, Mao checked a watch he didn’t have. Haoyu was so disoriented he didn’t notice. 

“Suddenly I have to go.”

“You can’t go!” That spurred Haoyu into action. He scrambled to his knees in front of Mao, pleading. “It’s raining outside!”

Mao gasped sarcastically. “No it isn’t.”

“Yes, it is! Look! Rain!” 

Mao watched Haoyu emphatically gesture towards the windows where droplets of water raced down the glass to a soothing rhythm with an unamused expression. 

“That’s not real rain. It’s an illusion.” 

Mao stood with a flourish, his blanket waving behind him with a wind that wasn’t there. Haoyu remained on his knees, tugging at it pathetically. 

“Please. That’s all you’ve said to me recently. “I have to go’ every time I touch you. Did I do something wrong?” 

Mao’s expression softened minutely. “No. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

It didn’t really feel like that. Each time Haoyu tried to show Mao some form of affection he’d leave. This didn’t typically bother him, he knew Mao was skittish, but it was making his plans to romance Mao and live happily ever after like every other version but his unloveable self did! 

Ah. Nevermind. 

It’s just.. Haoyu thought these fanfics would be a good jumping off point. He thought it would be the obvious solution. If Mao wasn’t interested in these scenarios then why would he have spent so many hours reading and writing them?

Mao awkwardly patted Haoyu on the head. He looked like he wanted to say something only to be struck by a realization. “The rain doesn’t matter anyway! I travel by portal! Idiot!” 

Damn, again.

Haoyu thought that Mao would forget that piece of information. Instead he had to watch with a sinking feeling as Mao abandoned him once again. 

ᓚᘏᗢ

“Come on, I found a cool training spot. You’re going to love this.”

Last night Mao had gone on a tangent about one of his favorite enemies that Haoyu had fought in 2LTC with Xinyi at his side. It seemed perfectly reasonable to Haoyu that if he put Mao in Xinyi’s position that it would make him happy. Most of the fanfics that Mao wrote were from Xinyi’s point of view, so Haoyu assumed that the written musings and ramblings had to be similar to his own in some way.

Haoyu vaguely remembered these monsters hidden deep within the forest. He’d fought them himself once, sans Xinyi. They were huge terrifying beasts with spider legs, serpentine torsos, and sharp teeth in several gapings mouths. 

Honestly, looking at it made Haoyu feel a bit sick all over again.

“Are you sure? I’m not just going to one shot these monsters like everything else?” Mao asked hesitantly. He stuck his hands into his hoodie pockets, examining every inch of the forest with a casual gaze.

“You shouldn’t.”

Truth be told Haoyu didn’t actually know. He prayed that Mao would be so overcome with joy that he’d have a chance to show off a bit. Maybe they could even fight side by side. Mao could strike the killing blow. 

Haoyu tugged on Mao’s sleeve, pulling him behind a wall of rocks so they could watch the creature crawl around in the darkness. 

The pair approached cautiously. Inch by inch, they moved through the shadows undetected. Mao’s face was bright with excitement. His eyes sparkled like the stars above and Haoyu was hopelessly gone for him. Haoyu drew his sword.

“Watch this,” Haoyu said, darting forward from the tree line into the clearing.

But it was already too late. Mao had been too excited and beat him to the punch. Literally. Mao had slashed his swords right into the monster’s weak point and severed its head from its body before Haoyu even had the chance to attack. 

For a moment both of them stood there in awkward, disappointed silence. 

Mao, because he’d once again been too strong for an enemy to meet his expectations. It hurt, all things considered, with how much he’d hyped the damn thing up in his head. 

Haoyu, because his plans were once again foiled. Maybe it was too optimistic of him to assume things could’ve worked out the way he wanted them to. If not any of the other times, why now? 

There was something else mixed with those feelings of hurt. 

Haoyu was mesmerized watching Mao. The way he flicked the blood off his blades carelessly. How his hands tightened against the hilt for just a moment before swinging back around into his sheaths. Mao didn’t break a single sweat. Over and done with. Mao’s disappointment was one of Haoyu’s greatest pleasures. Competence was a scarily attractive trait. 

Mao turned to face Haoyu with small shuffling steps. The frown on his face grew into something more complex as the seconds passed. Haoyu’s breath caught in his throat. 

“You’re trying to court me, aren’t you?”

All Haoyu could do was nod. Yes. Mao, yes. For years. Forever. Haoyu was begging and pleading for just one chance. Did you finally understand? 

Did Haoyu finally understand what you needed from him?

Could he finally get his happy ending? Was Haoyu worth loving after all?

“You’re so smart! This is great practice for when we find your Xinyi! You should’ve told me earlier, silly! I would’ve played along!”

Haoyu was going to die. What grave sins had he committed in a past life to deserve this?

…

Don’t answer that.

ᓚᘏᗢ

“I’m glad you’re finally taking the initiative to plan dates for yourself and Xinyi. It’s okay that you were too embarrassed to talk to me about it. I understand.”

Mao had forced Haoyu onto the couch five minutes ago, pacing the room back and forth, lost in thought for how to solve this particular conundrum. All Haoyu could do was stare helplessly at Mao, crumbling under the weight of this misunderstanding. He wanted to correct him so bad but… Mao was going to play along now. Isn’t that what Haoyu wanted?

“We’re going to fake date properly this time!” Mao said cheerfully, leaning in towards Haoyu, hands on his hips and a bright smile on his face. 

“What.”

“You heard me, Hao-ge! You’re hopeless at romance! All of these dates have been awful! Besides, you missed the most important step! For it to be a date you actually have to ask the person you’re going on a date with if they’re willing!” 

Shoot him. Shoot Haoyu now. It’s over. He’s done for. 

Mao, this emperor has feelings! Ouch!

Haoyu cradled his wounded pride close to his chest, or more accurately, puffed out his chest with an annoyed huff that hid his insecurity. 

“I’ve asked you on several dates before,” Haoyu said dryly.

Mao clicked his tongue at him. “Yes, but I’m not a self-shipper. I am an advisor. It is my job to match all Haoyus with their Xinyis. This is exactly what my job description is!”

Haoyu raised an eyebrow. Yeah. Sure Mao. Whatever you say. Get that gold medal in mental gymnastics as long as you actually go on a proper date with Haoyu, thanks. 

“Oh great Advisor Mao. What is your plan then? Since I’m so horrible at deciding what good dates are.” 

Internally, Haoyu could recognize that subtle jab would go right over Mao’s head. All these dates were based on Mao’s fanfics after all, though Haoyu was fairly certain he’d get beaten to death if he mentioned that.

“Xinyi is the nerdy type. He was really into reading before he died so I think we can try a few classic romance tropes and see if he goes for them, maybe. It’s worked in the past.” 

Mao tapped his chin, turning away from Haoyu to begin his pacing once more. 

Haoyu changed his mind. He was going to become a cultivation god as well and murder Mao with his own bare hands! 

God, but Mao looked really cute with that pensive expression. The way his lower lip jutted out, eyebrows furrowed, and teeth sunk into soft pink flesh. 

Okay. You win. Haoyu will kiss you stupid until you forgot everything you just said. That sounded like fair repayment to him.

Leaning forward with his elbows on his knees, Haoyu let the robes fall off his shoulders until Mao’s gaze was drawn to the bare skin of his chest. If Haoyu had anything going for him, it was that Mao was utterly captivated by his… eyes…

“And what tropes are those?”

Mao was struggling to form coherent thoughts. “Oh…” Don’t look down. “You know…” Don’t look down. “Coffee shop dates…” Don’t look down. “Only one bed…”

Aha, Mao looked down! 

With the flick of his wrist, Haoyu leaned back against the couch, presenting himself like a disinterested woman sending away a cup of tea that wasn’t to her taste. The motion drew Mao in– catching him hook line and sinker. 

“Oh, please! Don’t just give up now that I’ve caught you! We’ll have a lot of fun and then Xinyi will fall head over heels for you when you turn your newfound skills on him.”

“You’re my soulmate. Not Xinyi.”

Mao barreled forward, crawling into Haoyu’s lap and squishing his cheeks. “Hao-ge. Stop being so fussy. It is unbecoming. We’re doing this whether you want to or not.”

Haoyu’s lips curled up into a grin before the expression was smoothed away by Mao’s hands.

“Okay.”

ᓚᘏᗢ

“Ask me.”

“Go on a date with me.”

“No.”

ᓚᘏᗢ

“Will you go on a date with me?”

“No.”

ᓚᘏᗢ

“Come on! Pretend I’m Xinyi! Ask me!”

“...”

“I’m going to beat your ass.”

“Please, go on a date with me, my love?”

“No.”

ᓚᘏᗢ

“Fine, I’ll ask. Would you be interested in going on a date with me to get coffee this Saturday?”

“No. Wait, Mao, please don’t go! I was kidding! Mao!”

ᓚᘏᗢ

Coffee shop au! Coffee shop au!

Haoyu had not read a single one but he’d seen it tagged on hundreds of fics before. What else could it be other than getting coffee together? Working there? That would be horrible.

They entered the small shop with Haoyu’s arm wrapped around Mao’s waist. It was Mao’s idea to make Haoyu practice his game. Facing the white haired blue eyed barista at the register didn’t even make Haoyu disgustingly jealous this time. He was the one holding Mao like this. Nobody else.

Mao tilted his head up to get Haoyu’s attention, gently tugging on the sleeve of his shirt. “What do you want?”

There was a bright purple drink on the menu with whipped cream and sprinkles on it just calling Haoyu’s name. “The thing that looks like a Grimace shake.”

In his time-out induced iPad-kidding, Haoyu had learned those unholy words against his will.

Mao’s nose scrunched up and he gagged. Haoyu pinched his ass to make him stop, which made Mao slap the back of his head, which made Haoyu pick him up in his arms. 

This date was going great. 

“Xinyi wouldn’t like it if you did that.”

Haoyu elected to ignore that in favor of stepping up to the counter, Mao still held against his chest, and stared the barista down menacingly. “One black coffee and that lavender haze purple pony frappe.” 

Last time he ordered a unicorn themed drink. It came in pretty shades of pink and blue but was no longer on the menu. What happened to his unicorn to make it a regular pony? 

The barista’s gaze flickered between Haoyu and Mao before silently inputting the order. 

Mao’s wallet was in his pocket and Haoyu had no qualms about fishing it out himself while making direct eye contact with the worker. Did he say he wasn’t jealous? He lied. 

Slamming Mao’s card against the reader, Haoyu said, “Don’t even think about writing your number on his cup. I’ll find you.”

The barista, pale as a ghost, nodded. With that he turned and shuffled over to the coffee machines to begin prepping their drinks. 

Mao had enough. He climbed out of Haoyu’s arms, wrapped his hand around the back of his neck, and pulled Haoyu down to eye level with him. “Behave yourself. Take this date seriously. You need the practice. You can’t treat Xinyi like this.”

Haoyu merely grinned. His mind repeated an endless mantra of coffee shop au, coffee shop au, coffee shop au without an ounce of understanding. 

“Do you like being treated like this?”

“It’s not about what I like. I’m not the one you’re going on dates with. You’re supposed to pretend I’m Xinyi.”

“How can I pretend when you’re so handsome?”

“Why do you think flirting with me is so funny? I give you instructions and then you blatantly ignore me. Is that what you enjoy?”

Don’t care. Didn’t ask. Successfully on a date with Mao. 

“I don’t enjoy being disobedient. Not in particular. I just think you’re beautiful. Does that make me a bad person?”

“Yes.”

Haoyu stood at his full height. He wrapped his arms around Mao, curling his fingers into the long strands of hair on the back of Mao’s neck. Mao stiffened then forced himself to relax. This did not escape Haoyu’s attention. A smirk played on his lips. 

“You say that but you can’t help yourself from spending every waking hour thinking of me.”

“And Xinyi. Both of you together. Like dolls that I can make kiss.”

“When you say it like that it sounds more like voyeurism than it does noble.”

“I need to get you a leash that I can tug on whenever you misbehave like a dog. You’re troublesome. Maybe a shock collar.”

Mao stepped back in an attempt to put some distance between them but Haoyu matched every move until Mao was pressed against the counter. 

“You can put me on a leash any day.”

The barista behind the counter cleared his throat. He really wished he’d skipped work today. His paycheck was not enough to cover the therapy bill he’d accumulate for seeing little freaks like these mess around in public. 

He handed the pony drink to Mao, who whipped around at the waist, spine cracking from how hard he’d turned. Mao handed Haoyu the drink. The barista shook his head before silently sliding over the black coffee and trudging to the back. 

Haoyu was unsure of what else a coffee shop au entailed besides getting coffee. This was a boring au. Maybe he should’ve read one before they started. Though to be honest he was really glad things were finally going well for the two of them. 

“Do you want to sit? Walk around? What would make you happy?” 

Mao spun in a slow circle, taking in the coffee shop as well as the world outside. After a slow careful sip of his drink, Mao wilted. He pointed towards the back of the shop where a set of small couches, bookshelves, and board games sat undisturbed. 

It was cozy. The leather couch sank beneath Haoyu’s weight, creaking only slightly when he pulled Mao onto his lap. His drink was pure sugary goodness on his tongue. Haoyu wondered what it would feel like to kiss Mao right now. Whether or not the temperature difference of their mouths would feel as electric as he thought it would. 

How Mao’s entire body would pull tight in disgust as though he’d eaten an entire lemon instead of tasting the sweetness on his lips. 

Mao leaned forward, pulling a dry erase board onto his lap. He divided it into sections with his green marker, writing out pros and cons of dating Haoyu on each side. 

Pros: Smart, strong, handsome, 

Cons: Idiot, bad cook

“Okay. Maybe this was a bad idea,” Mao said under his breath. 

“Bad cook?”

Haoyu’s grip on his drink tightened momentarily before he was reminded of the way his box of Mao&Mao’s exploded in the movie theater. He set the drink down after another sip. 

Mao nodded. “Unfortunately. We need to be honest here. How can we sell you to Xinyi?”

“That’s your job, isn’t it? Shouldn’t you already know?”

“You’d think so, wouldn’t you? I can’t solve all your problems.”

“Yes you can.”

Haoyu smudged his finger along the text, completely erasing bad cook from the list. In retaliation, Mao scribbled bad taste instead. 

“I don’t have bad taste. You're my type.” 

“Of course I am. I look like Xinyi. Idiot.” 

“Not everything has to be about Xinyi. You can talk to me about other stuff. We’re supposed to be friends.”

Mao doodled angry stick figures on the bottom of the whiteboard instead of attacking Haoyu directly. “I know that. I’d be able to talk to you about different things if I felt like you were taking this seriously. Instead you flirted with me and derailed all our recent conversations.” 

A wave of discomfort and guilt washed over Haoyu before slipping away as fast as it had come. He didn’t have time to feel bad about flirting with Mao. Not that he ever truly could. There was a mission to complete. 

‘You shouldn’t talk to me about Xinyi so much. You’re pretending you’re him. Let me flirt with you. I couldn’t talk to Xinyi about Xinyi.”

“I am pretending to be Xinyi. However, currently I am your shizun. Your behavior needs to be corrected so you don’t make these mistakes with him.”

“You don’t have to run away from me every time I flirt with you though,” Haoyu said gently.

He took the marker from Mao’s hands and used his knuckle to erase the angry eyebrows. With a few quick strokes he was able to change it to the two figures holding hands inside a small heart. 

“I’m running away because I’m uncomfortable.”

Haoyu snorted, then turned his head away. He brought the frappe to his lips, amusement dancing across his expression. “You’re not one to shy away from a fight but you’re uncomfortable with me flirting with you? I’ve seen the things you’ve written. Nothing I’ve said to you has come close to being as bad as what you have me saying to Xinyi.”

“I’ve met thousands of Haoyus! I know what you’re like!”

“Then why are you surprised when I act like myself?”

“Because somehow you’re different!”

Haoyu raised his hands in a placating gesture. “Relax, relax. I’m sorry. I’d hope I’m different. I’m the first. The best. Nobody can match me.”

While he believed that, a small part of him worried he was lying. Hundreds of wives. Women that all hated his guts. It had taken him a long time to realize that hundreds of wives would’ve never taken the place of one man. It fucking sucked. 

There was no time to get lost in that train of thought. Haoyu had to fix things to enjoy their coffee shop au. He didn’t know if he could stomach another bad date.

Haoyu grabbed Mao’s coffee from his hands, took a deep steadying breath, and took a sip. 

“Ack! This is disgusting! How do you drink this?!”

Mao laughed with a hand over his mouth. “It’s way better than your unicorn vomit.” 

Haoyu allowed Mao to push him around, turning his face every which way to give him better angles of his misery. 

“Who are you kidding? No it isn’t!”

“Your sugary monstrosities are going to be the thing that takes me out forever,” Mao scoffed. “Black coffee is good for your health.”

“Being healthy isn’t worth that torture.” 

Haoyu pressed his forehead against Mao’s back, whining like a scolded puppy until Mao melted against him. They stayed there like that for a few hours. Laughing, teasing each other, and fucking up the whiteboard with more lighthearted arguments and ugly doodles. Xinyi didn’t come up again. 

ᓚᘏᗢ

“I’m sorry, boys, the only room available only has one bed tonight. Is that okay?”

Mao smiled serenely, nodding his head at the attendant, trying to look put upon as he handed over his card like this wasn’t an entirely orchestrated event. 

“I can sleep on the floor,” Haoyu offered as he was coached. 

“No, no. That wouldn’t be fair to you. You can sleep with me. We can put pillows between ourselves while we sleep. Don’t worry.”

The attendant mimicked the kind smile she was supposed to have, though Haoyu could see the sweat beaded on her brow. Perhaps he was a bit intimidating standing behind Mao with a glare firmly fixed onto his face as he stared into her soul. The world may never know. 

She handed Mao the key with a trembling hand. 

Mao took it gratefully. He turned, taking Haoyu’s hand in his, and led them to their room. 

“Do you remember what I taught you?”

Haoyu did, but he disregarded everything Mao said about two hours ago as soon as they left the palace. They’d spent about an hour and a half driving aimlessly through the streets listening to music and talking. 

Just. Talking. 

About the weather, about food, about animals. Mao mentioned a cat cafe he’d found a few weeks ago as he looked for date spots to tell the growing pool of Haoyus about. It was a small glimpse into each other's psyches. Both freely given and comfortable. 

Sometimes Haoyu forgot Mao was a real person and not just an idol. 

Sometimes Mao forgot Haoyu was a real person too. 

He wasn’t a book character anymore. He had thoughts and feelings. 

It seemed like Mao forgot more often than he remembered. 

The room they were given was comfortable. Small and unassuming but warm. Haoyu sat on the edge of the bed after removing his shoes. 

“Do we really have to roleplay this out? Isn’t it better for things to be natural?” Haoyu leaned back on the bed, lounging with all the grace of an emperor. 

“I thought we agreed to follow the romance tropes since you were struggling to be natural.”

Mao climbed in beside Haoyu while completely ignoring him laying there and adjusted the sheets and pillows to his liking. 

At first he did. But this wasn’t a fanfic. If it was, maybe he wouldn’t end up failing at every turn. 

Still. 

“I did.”

It was obvious he wasn’t enthusiastic about this one. The trope was cute. Haoyu did want to share a bed with Mao. Yet they’d practiced it so much, practiced what Xinyi would want, that he was struggling to project Mao into the situation. 

“Okay. If you don’t want to do that anymore we can quiz you on the steps again.”

Haoyu deflated slightly. He didn't know what he wanted and that feeling sucked. 

In a moment of pure unrefined impulsivity, Haoyu grabbed one of the pillows Mao had adjusted and smacked him with it as hard as he could. Completely derailing the plan.

Mao went face first into the sheets, not because Haoyu was particularly strong, but because he was caught off guard. He trusted Haoyu enough to let go around him. 

Not a second passed before Mao grabbed his own pillow and returned the blow. 

Fluff flew everywhere as the two of them attacked each other relentlessly. Mao straddled Haoyu’s lap and repeatedly whacked him in the face with the pillow before Haoyu was able to get up through pained laughter. They fought over the bed, into the bathroom, across the kitchenette, and at one point they even had to perform tiny swats as they danced through the closet and out onto the balcony. 

Mao pushed Haoyu against the railing, holding his pillow to his throat the way he held his swords. Their chests rose and fell rapidly with heavy breaths, faces only inches apart. 

“Hey there, pretty thing. Having fun?” Haoyu purred. 

His head went back fast enough that his neck cracked when Mao smacked him in the face, smothering him until he could barely breathe through his laughter and the stuffing. 

“Stop being delusional! What happens if Xinyi lets you sleep on the floor?” Mao barked. 

Haoyu straightened, pushing the pillow down so he could meet Mao’s eyes. 

“He wouldn’t. But if I insisted and slept on the floor anyway, I would wake up from a nightmare after a few hours. He wakes up too and invites me to sleep next to him so he can comfort me.”

“Good… good. What if he hogs all the blankets?”

Another threatening shove of the pillow. 

“I let him have them.”

“What if he pushes you to the edge of the bed?”

“I wrap my arms around him and pull his head onto my chest, scooting closer to the middle so we can share.”

The answers came to him with a quickness. He sighed, cupping a hand around Mao’s cheek. “Please, don’t talk about Xinyi. You’re.. you’re Xinyi tonight. Don’t say his name.” 

Mao’s eyes widened like a sleeper agent who had his code word said. Immediately he lit up like a different person. 

“You said something similar to wife number 54! It was so romantic at the time. Both of you adventuring together, stopping by a large merchant town as you searched for..”

Not another word made it through Haoyu’s ears. He felt himself shutting down slowly, starting at his extremities and coalescing into a dark swirling vortex in his heart. 

Disappointment. Regret. That was the closest thing to what Haoyu was experiencing. 

He was trying so hard to make Mao like him. To stop talking about Xinyi or his wives and enjoy the moment. Haoyu didn’t feel like a person. Reduced to trivia.

All he could bring himself to do was stare at Mao’s pretty face while he chirped on and on about whatever passage he’d remembered from 2LTC. 

He didn’t have the luxury to keep secrets from Mao. The dumbass knew every little thing about Haoyu, including his fuckups with love, parroting them back to him and reminding Haoyu why he could never really deserve him.

It was normal to not want your current crush to know every mistake you made. Right? Especially in past relationships? And then being told how you did everything wrong for hours before your date? 

The drive they shared was fun. This was not.

Haoyu was spiraling. With all his remaining effort, he lifted his pillow once more, his last bastion of support, and whacked Mao across the face. 

ᓚᘏᗢ

“Pick ‘Nightclub.’” 

Haoyu wrinkled his nose at the choice. “Nightclub? Over the beach?” 

“The nightclub is where you go to find people you like.”

The two of them sat huddled around Mao’s computer, intensely consumed by a dating sim Haoyu found online. While not a fanfic trope or romance movie setup, it was a good way to gauge Mao’s reaction and interest in different scenarios for dates. He realized maybe blindly picking fic tropes from Mao’s works wasn’t working very well. This seemed like a smart alternative. 

“No it isn’t. You find people to hook up with at nightclubs. You don’t find romantic prospects there.”

Mao waved a hand, dismissing Haoyu’s words without second thought. “I want to romance the blond one.”

“He’s not even that cute. The black haired one is better.” 

Their eyes met for a brief moment, silently judging the other’s taste before returning to the screen. 

“It’s my turn and I’m picking the nightclub.” 

Haoyu clicked on the club, leading Mao through several more selections. 

El Diablo, a funny little cocktail in game with devil horns, instead of water. 

Chatting by the bar instead of dancing. 

Flirting with him instead of throwing your drink in his face. 

Haoyu was a bit disappointed by that last one. 

Still he obediently filed away every single answer, or more so the reasoning, for every choice. 

“If I was more like this guy,” Haoyu shook the mouse over the love interest’s face, “would you like me more?” 

Mao frowned. He leaned back in his chair to stare up at the ceiling. 

“I like you just fine. We’re friends, Hao-ge.” 

That’s the problem.

“But would you like like me more?” 

“Romantically? I don’t know. I quite like you as you are. I don’t want you to be different. But we’re just friends and I’m not a self-shipper so I don’t know why it matters.” 

Haoyu hit log on the game, functionally pausing it but somehow avoiding the pause button altogether. Mao grimaced but refrained from commenting. 

“You spend so much time teaching Haoyus how to court but I don’t really know what your type is.”

“Pretty guys. Light hair, bright eyes, tall, beefy.”

That's him! That’s Haoyu! He’s describing Haoyu! 

“I like my men stupid.”

Not Haoyu. Right?

“What else?” Haoyu subtly removed one more layer of his robes before tossing it behind him, stretching, and resting one beefy arm behind Mao’s chair. 

“I don’t really think about it.” Mao stole the mouse, unpausing the game. It was clear he wanted this conversation to be over. Haoyu was very tired of that happening. “I spend most of my time with Haoyus and Xinyis.” 

“You’re with me right now. Nobody else. Focus on me.”

Haoyu grabbed Mao’s chin, forcing him to meet his eyes. Mao didn’t back off like usual. He grabbed Haoyu’s chin just as aggressively, forcing their face even closer than before. 

“Don’t talk to me like that unless you want me to push you down and use your chest as my new mousepad.” 

Short-circuiting. 

Haoyu’s mouth dropped open slightly, and he saw the way Mao’s gaze dropped to his lips before returning to his eyes. 

“What if I want you to do that?” 

Mao didn’t have the confidence to back his threat up today. His grip loosened slightly. He gritted out, “Go put on the turtle hat of shame and then we can finish our date.” 

Our date! 

“Yessir!”

Haoyu got up so fast he knocked over his chair, nearly tripped over the bedsheets, and stumbled into the dresser where the ugly hats were hung. He put it on his head as he returned to the desk, seating himself right on Mao’s lap where he belonged. 

“Hao-ge. Get off my lap.” 

“We are stuck here.” Haoyu patted the arms of the chair tightly digging into his hips. 

Mao knocked his head against Haoyu’s back. He pinched all over his chest, arms, and cheeks until he felt satisfied in his punishment. 

“Okay. We’ll figure it out after we finish this event.”

ᓚᘏᗢ

Haoyu was laser focused on the claw machine before him. Their latest date was at a new arcade that had opened up stocked only with cute claw machines. Each machine had a distinct prize. Some were blind boxes, some held plushies, and some had keychains in them. 

Mao had spotted the perfect machine when they entered. A machine entirely stocked with large wolf dog plushies and cats. They were necessities. 

$200. 

That’s how much money Mao put in the card. Initially, Haoyu was a little pissed that Mao had such little faith in him. 

$130 down the drain and Haoyu was starting to feel a bit more grateful. 

It was a good thing money was only a concept to him and not something he had to worry about with Mao’s cultivation skill. 

Haoyu stood there with a death grip on the joystick. He was not supposed to use any kind of cultivation or tricks to get this prize. Beside him Mao sat on a spinny chair with an amused smirk on his face. The boba in his hands was almost gone. 

“Can I help?” 

“No. I’m going to win this for you. We can try another machine after.” 

“Oh come on. Just one try?” 

Haoyu hesitated, watching the claw drop the large cat plush only centimeters away from the prize chute. Instead of letting him answer Mao took the initiative to lay his hand overtop of Haoyu’s. Together each move was confident and stable. 

The claw grabbed onto the body of the wolf dog, raised it high into the air, and immediately dropped it. 

“Damn.” 

Haoyu looked down, hiding his smile. “It’s not as easy as it looks.”

“I suppose not. But I know you can do it.” 

Mao’s pouty lips wrapped around the boba straw again, and Haoyu felt his heart strain against his chest. A recurring dream/ nightmare. His fingers flexed on the joystick as he swiped the card again. 

He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and moved the joystick without looking. In, out. 

“I don’t even want this stupid thing anyway,” he said. 

A loud congratulatory noise preceded the sound of a plushie falling down the chute by only half a second. 

Haoyu opened his eyes, stunned. He bent down on one knee to rescue the plush cat from its cage. This cheap little shit toy was worth $130. Haoyu presented the toy to Mao like it was a ring, back carefully straight. 

“Are you proposing?” Mao leaned over on the swivel chair to observe Haoyu’s posture. He nodded his approval. 

“Would you say yes if I was?”

“No.”

“Then no.”

“I do, however, accept the plushie.” Mao took the cat plush from Haoyu’s hands and hugged it close to his chest with one arm. “Get the wolf dog now.” 

Haoyu relented, rising with his back to the controls. This stupid piece of machinery could smell fear— that he was certain of. Haoyu moved the joystick wildly, blindly, and let go without turning to look where it would go. The resounding whoop and cheer from Mao let him know he succeeded. 

“I should’ve told you to do this an hour ago! Who knew you had this kind of skill?” 

Mao opened the chute with his foot, allowing Haoyu to bend down and pick it up for him. When Haoyu handed Mao the dog plush, Mao pressed their snouts together like they were kissing. 

“I liked spending the last hour with you,” Haoyu argued. 

“I think you would’ve liked it more if you actually managed to win things instead of scaring everyone else out of the arcade with the amount of anger you radiated.” 

Oh. He did that?

Haoyu turned to survey the store, which was once packed to the brim with gamers, only to find it was empty. 

“Now that we know how to win we should refill that card and empty out the machines. What do you think?” Haoyu asked. 

“I’d like that.” 

ᓚᘏᗢ

Mao and Haoyu sat shoulder to shoulder in the corner of a large, warm bookstore. The rug beneath them was soft and Haoyu couldn’t stop himself from digging his fingers into it.

Things turned out better when he paid attention to what Mao actually wanted out of a date instead of guessing. Who would’ve thought? 

Haoyu realized something. While he’d been getting upset that Mao didn’t really see him beyond Xinyi, Haoyu was doing the same thing to him. He thought he was aware of this. Being aware wasn’t the same as changing the behavior.

The fanfics Mao wrote weren’t ever things Mao necessarily wanted for himself. It was things he liked to explore through Xinyi. The dates didn’t work because they were for Xinyi’s enjoyment. Not Mao’s. 

Maybe keeping the fact that they were dates secret in the first place was also the problem. 

But here, now, with Mao excitedly laying out every volume of 2LTC in front of them, Haoyu was happy. He understood. This was what Mao liked. He needed to listen.

Mao opened the first volume for him, holding it between them as though he was a preschool teacher. He skimmed through the pages until he found the first piece of artwork in the novel. 

“This artist is very talented. I love how they draw you, Xinyi, and all the side characters.” Mao tilted his head as he brought the novel closer to their faces. “They didn’t quite get your hair texture right but it’s gorgeous nonetheless.” 

Haoyu’s hand drifted up to his hair, running his fingers through the long silky strands. “What’s wrong with my hair?”

“It’s not that there’s something wrong with your hair. They just got your bangs wrong. Yours are a bit fluffier around your face.”

Mao flipped to the next drawing. And the next. He pointed out things in every picture that Haoyu hadn’t noticed himself. 

So much of this danmei felt foreign to him. It wasn’t his life. These weren’t his memories. His body but not his mind. 

Because Haoyu survived. And he didn’t know why. 

Until he looks at Mao and thinks it’s all worth it. Sitting here with Mao, listening to his senseless rambling, Haoyu knows he was meant to be his. 

Mao’s eyes were fixed on the page, thumb rubbing the edge of the novel reverently. There was a sparkle in his eyes that he only ever got when talking about 2LTC. Haoyu wished he knew what the other Haoyus had that he didn’t so he could make Mao look at him like that. Like he was something to be treasured. 

Haoyu wasn’t expecting Mao to smile up at him. He seemed surprised that Haoyu was already watching him. His cheeks flushed, spreading up to his ears and down to his chest. 

“Look at the book,” Mao said. 

“I’m looking.”

“You’re looking at me.” 

“You’re embarrassed.” 

“No shit. Don’t state the obvious, Hao-ge. Anyone would be.”

Haoyu licked his lips unconsciously, pulling the book out of Mao’s hands and flipping to the front cover. 

“You have every inch of my face memorized, Mao-er. Every universal variant of it too. You love me like a husband loves a wife, admit it.” 

“I’m not a self-shipper. My love is pure, with no strings attached!”

I’d be your wife. 

Haoyu knew he wasn’t good to his wives. He wasn’t built to be a husband. He was meant to have one instead. 

A quiet laugh escaped his lips. “Fine, fine. I’ll look at the books. Just keep talking, okay?”

Mao brightened as he picked up the second volume of the series.  

“So, in this one..”

ᓚᘏᗢ

The picnic basket held everything Haoyu needed for the perfect date with Mao. 

Water, beef noodle soup from his favorite restaurant (Haoyu dare not experiment with cooking today), steamed buns, some fruit, and most importantly: several encyclopedias from his personal collection on the world of 2LTC. 

Mao seemed content to hold Haoyu’s hand, playing the part of Xinyi through some concerted effort of not arguing! 

The spot was perfect– a small gazebo nestled deep within the palace garden where flowers and vines flourished. Haoyu decorated for the occasion. The basket went on a lovely purple gingham blanket. Unlit candles were spread around strategically, pinning down the blanket so the wind wouldn’t blow it away. 

“Sit, sit,” Haoyu commanded, gently nudging Mao onto his knees before him. He sat at his side and pulled out the food first. Everything had its own box with spare plates to avoid a mess or food touching that shouldn’t touch. From there, he proudly presented Mao with the encyclopedias. 

“What’s this?”

“A collection of scholarly resources on plants, animals, and histories for you to skim. I know Xinyi prefers the more casual stay at home dates and that you’re one for more action but I hope this can be a good middle ground.”

Mao’s expression softened, reaching out with trembling hands and grabbing one of the books on the top of the pile. “Pulled out all the stops, have you?” 

“No. All these dates have been trial runs. I promise in the future you won’t be bored by my side again. Annoyed? Probably. But I’ll do everything in my power to make it up to you. You deserve to be coveted and worshipped like the god you are. And I will do it in whatever way I can have you.”

Haoyu didn’t look at Mao, choosing to focus on pouring the beef noodle soup into two bowls before sliding one over. 

Mao looked torn. He wanted to argue with Haoyu, to tell him it wasn’t okay to say these things to him, but he also wanted to play the part of the fake-date and let himself let off steam he hadn’t expelled in a long time. 

“You don’t have to make up for anything, Hao-ge. You are enough as you are.” 

Haoyu rolled his eyes. “I am your number one believer. My life is a tribute to your excellence. You never put a follower on the same level as their deity. Yet, maybe a partner can slip through the cracks.”

The soup was warm in Mao’s mouth, giving him an easy out as to why he felt twisted up and funny in his chest. He shivered despite the lack of a breeze. Haoyu rubbed his back in soothing circles before taking his own bowl and chopsticks into his hands. He lifted some of the noodles to Mao’s lips, pleased when he accepted them and hummed in contentment. 

Haoyu wanted to continue feeding him, but the urge to dump sugar into his noodles was too strong to ignore, so he had to suck up the fact that Mao would beat him to death if he tried to feed him from his bowl. Sugary, savory goodness. 

Then he realized he was an idiot and there were two bowls.

“Here, read up, I’ll feed you while you relax.”

Haoyu put his sugary noodles to his left, took Mao’s noodles and set them to the right, and spread his legs so Mao could sit comfortably against his chest. They fit together perfectly. 

Mao was a comfortable weight against him. Like this Haoyu didn’t have to worry about getting scolded for looking at his pretty face. He couldn’t stop himself from pressing a gentle kiss to the side of his head. Mao let him get away with it, taking it as a cue to open his mouth for another bite of meat. 

Mao read Haoyu his favorite passages. Haoyu braided the loose strands of Mao’s hair with wild flowers he found nearby. 

They stayed there even as the sun set and the fairy lights turned on in the gazebo, even as their leftovers had grown cold, and most importantly as Mao drifted off to sleep in Haoyu’s arms. 

For a moment– they were human. 

Love was alive in this fragile, temporary bubble of theirs. 

ᓚᘏᗢ

Mao didn’t wake up when Haoyu brought him back to bed. Haoyu sat beside him all night protecting him from monsters that could never hurt him anywhere but inside his own mind. 

He looked fragile with the plushies held close to his chest. Young and unburdened by the passage of time. 

His god. 

His (future) husband.

His soulmate.

His.

ᓚᘏᗢ

Where Haoyu’s harem failed to kill him, Mao would certainly succeed. 

He stood in front of him, swathed in soft silky fabrics, bathed in gold and jewels. 

Haoyu could die right here and he would be more than okay with it.

Round and round, Haoyu circled him, scanning him head to toe. He’d lift another chain or ring or bracelet from a box and add it to the growing collection Mao wore. 

Mao was without a doubt the most expensive thing in the realm. 

He didn’t have some grand excuse. Haoyu didn’t even say this was one of their fake dates. His proposition was that he wanted to dress Mao up in a bunch of ornate jewels and Mao came to some sort of conclusion on his own. 

“Xinyi would need this shirt in a smaller size.”

Haoyu didn’t respond to that in favor of settling a mianguan atop Mao’s head. His finger traced down his jaw, then down his shoulders and arms. He stepped back, looking for more riches to lay tribute to his love.

“This is a nice crown. I’m thinking a bit more orange jewelry would be perfect if you can find any.” 

On and on they went. Haoyu chose something to adorn Mao with and Mao said how to change it to better fit Xinyi’s taste. 

Eventually, Mao asked, “Are you even listening to me?”

“Mn.”

“What do you think of my plan? Xinyi’s ring size is smaller but that box only seems to have them in my size.”

“Because they are for you. Not for Xinyi.”

Mao looked at Haoyu like he was stupid. “I know I can’t fit into his size. That’s why I’m asking if you have anything else or if you want to resize these.”

“I never said this was for Xinyi. I want to dress you up today. You guessed it was for him and I let you because it seems like that’s the only reason you hang out with me anymore.”

Stunned silence filled the room. Then, anger. “That’s not true!”

Haoyu turned on him, crossing his arms over his large chest, a new set of anklets hanging loosely from his fingers. “Is it not? This isn’t the first time I’ve mentioned this to you.”

Mao was fuming. This did not stop Haoyu from sinking onto his knees, gently lifting Mao’s foot onto his thigh, and clipping the anklet on. Mao pushed him back with a hand on his forehead. Haoyu only smiled.

“Stop playing this game with me! It’s not funny! Your soulmate is Xinyi! I am not a self-shipper!”

“Game? Who said anything about games?” Haoyu tugged on Mao’s hand until they were both on their knees facing each other. Mao looked like the embodiment of light. He was soft around the edges, golden and pure, while simultaneously destructive and hot. Burning anger from his god could only soothe the ache in Haoyu’s bones. 

“Why are you doing this? Why are you messing with me?” 

Mao ripped his hand from Haoyu’s grasp. Haoyu did not force contact again.

“Have you not had fun with me these last few weeks? Is spending time with me really so painful?” Haoyu trailed off, eyes lingering on the chain wrapped around Mao’s delicate throat. “Is being by my side torture?”

It was for many. 

Just ask his wives. 

“I am not your answer!”

“I didn’t ask you to be. You cannot fix me, Mao. I just want to be with you.”

“I have told you time and time again! There is a Xinyi for you out there! Date after date I have spent all my time and energy making sure you could be prepared! So you could be happy! Stop throwing the blame and responsibility onto me.” 

Mao rose to his feet and began to pace. Each step was accompanied by a soft jingle of the jewels he wore. 

“You’re the one who assumed I was courting you as practice. I never corrected you because I knew it was the only way you’d play along. Part of me hoped you’d get out of your head eventually and realize that you were having fun with me.” 

“This isn’t a fanfic. You don’t get to play with my feelings and then tell me I’m the one in the wrong here!”

Haoyu felt confused. They seemed to be having two entirely different conversations. All the fanfics he read, all the romance movies, they didn’t leave him feeling adequately prepared for this. 

There was no script for him to follow. 

The Haoyu and Xinyis that Mao wrote about didn’t fight like this.

God, these last few weeks Haoyu felt like he was constantly on thin ice and diffusing Mao’s anger regularly. These last few dates were better. Haoyu thought they were doing better. Was he delusional? 

“Mao, do you like me?”

“No!” Mao shouted. Haoyu had not heard him shout like that before. “What part about-”

Haoyu intercepted Mao, staring down at him, hands on his shoulders. He could feel the heat radiating off his skin.

“You’re not a self-shipper. I know. It’s not about shipping. All this time, all these dates, and I don’t think you’ve ever once come to realize that I’m a real person with real feelings. Please, I am begging you, to see me as a person that cares about you and not as words on a page or drawings in a book. Give me a chance.”

“That doesn’t change the fact that you have a Xinyi out there. I am not from your world. We are not meant to know each other.”

The corners of Haoyu’s lips ticked up into a smile despite himself. He could see the way Mao was pulled taught, fists clenched at his sides, and breaths coming out ragged. There was no hesitation about pulling Mao in for a hug. 

Mao needed it.

To be held.

To be loved.

To be known.

Mao was an expert in Haoyu. And Haoyu was getting to know him back. 

Right now, he knew Mao needed to be hugged.

They needed each other.

“Xinyi is not from the other Haoyus’s worlds either. You know that better than anybody else. You, who travels through time and space to make sure that every Haoyu meets his love.

And me, the survivor. The one that the universe never planned to give a Xinyi to. 

I have you.”

“No. No. There is a Xinyi out there for you. I will find him. I am not part of this story.”

“Mao, darling. You’re already here.”

Haoyu squeezed Mao tighter. He let out a quiet sigh of relief when Mao finally relaxed into his hold, loosely wrapping his arms around Haoyu.

“I don’t care how long it takes,” Haoyu whispered. “I will do whatever you need to ensure I can keep even a piece of you in my life. I can live a thousand lifetimes and never deserve you. But dammit I’m going to try.”

“Okay.”

What?

Haoyu froze. Mao pulled back just enough to press his chin against Haoyu’s chest and look up at him like a cat asking for a treat. He didn’t look entirely convinced. His nose was reddened to the point where Haoyu could tell he was still feeling oversensitive and trying not to sniffle. 

They’d have to talk it out later. Mao would have to learn to share his mental load with Haoyu. If a god could work himself to death Mao would be the one to figure it out.

“Okay what?”

“Okay, I’ll try. To be with you I mean. I make no promises that it’ll be good… but I see you. I hear you. You’re real to me.”

“You don’t have to be perfect, you just have to be mine.”

Mao buried his head deeper into Haoyu’s chest.

“I’ve always been yours.”

Even before you knew me.

Forcing those prompts was never going to work. 

The story they were trying to tell was not the story they were meant to tell.

The kind of love they shared was too great to explain with words.

But, they could get really close with a kiss. 

And a new shade of purple.