Chapter Text
Suo Wei had no intention of eavesdropping.
He really didn’t.
He was simply stopping by the clinic to pick up the dumb beanie he’d left behind in Dr. Jiang’s office two days ago. That was it. He hadn't even been thinking of Chi Cheng when he climbed the stairs, had barely glanced around the corridor, and wasn’t expecting to hear anything aside from maybe a nurse laughing or the murmur of an air conditioner on the brink of giving up.
But as soon as he pushed open the half-closed door, he heard it—low voices carrying through the narrow hallway. Familiar in a way that made something in him go still.
He froze, hand still on the doorknob.
The first voice was unmistakable: silky, amused, smooth around the edges like always.
“At least you could act like you're guilty,” Dr. Jiang said.
And then, seconds later, came the reply—calm, unbothered, too familiar for comfort.
“Why? It’s not me who’s lying. That’s you,” Chi Cheng said, his voice deeper than usual, laced with something that wasn't quite humor and wasn't quite anger either.
A beat of silence followed. Then a quiet, knowing chuckle from Dr. Jiang. That low hum of a laugh Suo Wei had heard more than once, usually after a particularly dry diagnosis or a sarcastic remark. But this time, it wasn’t clinical. It wasn’t professional.
It was personal.
Suo Wei’s brows drew together.
He knew it was stupid, but he shifted closer. Just a half-step, then another, until he could see through the narrow slit of the doorway into the room.
Chi Cheng was sitting on the edge of the exam table like he owned the place. Like he’d been there a hundred times before and never once had to ask permission. His legs swung slightly, lazily, a bottle of oolong tea balanced in one hand. He looked infuriatingly at ease.
Across from him, Dr. Jiang leaned against the counter, arms folded, a slight curve to his lips—the one that always made him look a little too pleased, a little too smug. His eyes were focused entirely on Chi Cheng, as though they were in the middle of a private joke.
Nothing about the scene screamed scandal.
They weren’t touching. No one looked flustered. Nothing *technically* was happening.
But Suo Wei’s stomach twisted anyway.
Maybe it was the way Chi Cheng tilted his head when he listened. Or the way Dr. Jiang was watching him with that half-smile. Or the fact that the air between them seemed... quiet. Familiar. Like this wasn’t the first time they’d done this.
And maybe it was none of that. Maybe it was just Suo Wei being ridiculous.
He cleared his throat loudly and stepped inside like he hadn’t just been standing there like a lunatic, staring through the door like he was watching a drama unfold.
Both heads turned immediately.
“Oh,” Dr. Jiang said first, blinking like he genuinely hadn’t noticed the door open. “Didn’t hear you come in.”
Chi Cheng didn’t say a word. Just offered a small nod, gaze unreadable, as if nothing about this moment was odd to him at all. As if Suo Wei walking in on him having tea with a thirty-something physician was the most natural thing in the world.
“I left my hat,” Suo Wei muttered, voice clipped. “Didn’t mean to interrupt.”
“You didn’t,” Dr. Jiang said with that same calm tone, but his gaze lingered on Suo Wei a moment too long—curious, observant. Like he was seeing something Suo Wei wasn’t ready to admit.
Suo Wei crossed the room, grabbed the folded grey beanie from the desk, and made to leave.
But for some reason, his feet didn’t move. His fingers tightened around the wool. His chest itched with something he couldn’t name, something tight and stupid and annoying. And before he could stop himself, he turned slightly and said—
“You two seem… close lately.”
It came out sharper than he meant. Sharper than he realized, until it was already echoing through the room.
Dr. Jiang raised his eyebrows slightly. Chi Cheng looked over at him, that slow blink of his giving nothing away—neither amused nor offended, just watching.
“We’ve always been close,” Dr. Jiang replied after a pause. Even. Calm. Measured.
Right, Suo Wei thought. Of course. He was just the idiot who didn’t know that.
“Makes sense,” Suo Wei said flatly, still not looking at either of them.
And then he turned and walked out the door before he could say something worse.
Outside, the air was hot and heavy with humidity, the evening sky dimming into a dull orange. Cars moved sluggishly past the clinic, the occasional honk distant and muffled.
Suo Wei stopped at the edge of the sidewalk and stared down at the pavement.
He adjusted his grip on the beanie and tried to breathe through the strange pressure building in his chest. He told himself it didn’t matter. That Chi Cheng could be friends—or *close*—with whoever he wanted. That it wasn’t any of Suo Wei’s business.
He told himself that he didn’t even like him. Not like that.
But that didn’t make the feeling go away.