Work Text:
‘I…
…I did it?’
Did Lu Guang finally find a way to alter the death node??
Somehow upright against the faded adrenaline, Cheng Xiaoshi stands tall in front of him against the dark backdrop of the overturned studio. Strong hands on his shoulders, golden eyes both tense and relieved at the same time as they take him in, look him over.
“You okay, Lu Guang?”
Gray eyes flit away, scanning over the scattered photos on the floor, the overturned furniture, and Vein’s crumpled form on the ground; somehow taking the bullet instead of himself or his reckless partner.
Did he really do it?
Did he really save Cheng Xiaoshi this time?
“Hey, it’s okay,” A hand moves, away from his shoulder, gliding over his cheek. A gentle force that turns his face back in front of him, staring straight into those golden eyes he glanced away from. “You got him—he won’t hurt us now.”
He could nearly cry out of relief.
Without restraint, without thought, Lu Guang throws himself straight at his partner, wrapping shaking arms around him as tight as he can hold without hurting him.
“Woah~” A surprised, but welcoming sound blown out of Cheng Xiaoshi’s mouth. It doesn’t linger; It morphs into a gentle exhale and arms soon return an embrace of their own.
He did it.
He finally saved him.
He glances up, an emotional brew of tears percolating in his gray-pooled eyes, to look into the face he tried so hard for so long to save. But the relief… the release he thought he’d finally get to savor like a sweet milk tea… it warps—distorts itself into some abstract form of dread.
Why are Cheng Xiaoshi’s eyes still gold?
Is… he shouldn’t be…? No, he can’t be…? But…
Warmth.
Warmth.
Warmth.
What is this?
A bloom of unsettling warmth spreads across Lu Guang’s abdomen. Uncomfortable, sticky. Abstract dread sharpens into knives of fear. He rips himself away from his partner, only to find the white of his shirt stained in a deep, muddled crimson, flooding all the way to soak his jacket.
No.
No.
No.
Vein’s body once motionless on the floor now suddenly behind Cheng Xiaoshi. His hand, it grabs the top of his head; long, powerful fingers buried into the messy mop of black beneath them. When those fingers curl, sink in tight, Cheng Xiaoshi’s golden eyes flick red.
Vein does not speak, but his voice comes out of his partner’s mouth the same as a ventriloquist’s dummy.
“You can’t save anyone.”
A puppet.
“This is where your curtain falls.
Your story will not end in triumph.
You will end only in the suffering of your consequences,
each,
and every,
time.”
But… Lu Guang saved him this time… didn’t he?
He… he saved him…
He…
“Say goodnight now—Xiaoshi’s had enough.”
He didn’t save him.
Cheng Xiaoshi’s right hand weakly moves, a pitiful, limped wave given. No soul, no life in the action—a carapace through and through.
He couldn’t save him.
The gold light leaves those eyes, and with it, the life within them.
He can’t save him.
“Xiaoshi—”
“XIAOSHI!!”
Lu Guang’s voice tears through air as he comes to, a harsh ringing in his ears from the cry in his dream coming out at the same time as his awakened scream. Heavy breaths trapped in his lungs makes his chest heave, shallow and quick despite their weight. Sweat clinging to his skin like raindrops against a foggy windowpane, soaked right through the cotton of his clothes in between the bunched folds.
Terrible.
Terrible.
Clearly it had only been a dream, as the morning-washed sights of the photo studio bedroom flood into his panicked gray eyes. But that awful, dreadful feeling of thinking he had finally saved his partner...
His hand balls up the front of his shirt, grasping it tightly as the panic and sorrow brews tears in his eyes. He can’t stop their flow, nor can he stop the hiccupped gasps that come deep from his lungs. Before he knows it, he’s silently crying while his breaths scrape the air with the volume of a shrieking jet engine.
“Lu Guang??”
Quick footfalls stomp their way up a distant staircase, muted beyond the empty space, Lu Guang’s own haggard breaths, and the cracked bedroom door. Mere seconds after those quick steps breach the second-floor landing, the cracked door nearly flies off its hinges with a mousy squeal and a dull bang; the concerned form of Cheng Xiaoshi bursting through, huffing as though he had run a marathon and a half.
Gears of thought turn, spin, and click quick—quick enough that in the mere 3 seconds his partner stopped to observe him and catch his own breath, he’s already figured out exactly what had happened and what to do next; halfway up the ladder to the top bunk of their bed.
“Hey, hey…” A normally vibrant, playful voice turned down to an understanding mellowness is swift to soothe. “Shh, shh-shh, it’s okay.”
Mattress and sheets groaning, valleys and peaks shifting as extra weight finds perch against them. Encroaching into the dip of the mattress, Cheng Xiaoshi rolls careful and tender into the guarded bubble of his partner. A hand across his back to pull him close; the other hand on his head to pet through his hair, soft and strong.
“Alright you bad dreams, you best stay out of my Guang-Guang’s head.” Cheng Xiaoshi’s voice purrs, a mix of soft impishness and sympathetic pacification that vibrates in his chest.
Lu Guang does not fight—he can’t fight—he surrenders. Bubble bursting as he tucks his face down, hiding his eyes in the crook of his partner’s neck as though his skin could eat his tears away.
He knows it’s a dream, but it still doesn’t stop the panic and the sorrow from crashing over him; a 10-foot tidal wave of distress to bury him with all its invisible pressure. His loud, scraping breaths and full-body heaves as irrefutable proof of the crash.
Despite his partner being right here, holding onto him and petting through his hair, it doesn’t feel like enough. He’s here, but Lu Guang himself is not. He’s trapped in a wakened nightmare still. He can’t help it—he can’t stop it. He can’t stop the panicked beats of his heart beating out in triple tempo, he can’t lift the weight of his own haggard breaths out of his chest, nor can he hold back the hot tears from falling out of his eyes.
“It’s okay, Lu Guang, it’s okay…” Cheng Xiaoshi is soft to comfort. Voice as silken and gentle as the hand in his hair. “Was just a bad dream… You’re alright, you’re safe…”
He clings harder to him; hands balled into his shirt so tightly he fears he might rip it on accident. He knows he’s safe, but his partner—
“Don’t leave- don’t leave- please don’t leave-” Lu Guang’s hoarse voice begs, sounding so unsure and so unlike himself: Timid and desperate. His composure long gone, lost in the prior throes of turbulent slumber.
“I’m not going anywhere Guang-Guang—I’m right here, ‘kay? I’m right here…” Cheng Xiaoshi’s head tucking down, warmed breath of his exhales pooling atop his partner’s white-haired head that he continues to pet.
Through the panic, the storm of Lu Guang’s emotions, Cheng Xiaoshi’s voice and breath cuts through the howling rain of despair and the deafening winds of dread. Against the violent and tall waves of heart-wrenching fear, his voice—lighter and softer than a bubble of dew kissing a tender blade of grass—is the strong, blinding light to cut through it all. That voice: His lighthouse, calling him home.
“That’s right, come on back. I’m right here. Xiaoshi’s right here…” Cheng Xiaoshi catches him calming, coaxing him in further towards the docks of his heart.
The warmth of his breath, the sensation of a solid body in front of him, beating, breathing, alive, brings Lu Guang’s ship in from the stormy seas of his own design. He’s able to steer his boat straight to the dock: find his lost breath and catch it, finally able to turn down the volumes of his hiccupped gasps. He’s able to brace the waves as he steps off onto solid land again: calm the thrumming strum of his heart and turn the tempo back down to where it comfortably rests. He’s able to run into that bright, warm safety: quell the monsoon in his eyes and settle their waves.
He focuses only on his partner in front of him, holding him and consoling him through it all, until he’s able to breathe smoothly and the stormy tears have completely dried.
“There we go… nice and calm now…” Cheng Xiaoshi murmurs, a lulling drone in his tone.
Lu Guang breathes long and heavy against the skin of his partner, muted sense of smell wafting tamarinds and clover through—a sun-soaked earthiness. It mixes with the freshly washed linen scent of his clothes; That specific powder he always mixes too much in with the wash, makes the laundry extra soapy but extra scented. Smells like home. He tilts his head down further, closer to his chest and burrowing into that scent; that warmed skin that thrums with a strong, steady beat.
“Someone’s extra cuddly this time.” Cheng Xiaoshi playfully teases, though he wastes no time in wrapping both his arms around him in a securing hug. “That’s okay though—I like it when you’re extra cuddly~” He hums a giggle, nuzzling his face into his hair.
Cheng Xiaoshi completely surrounds him, and Lu Guang isn’t going to complain about that one bit. Those warm arms across his back that hold him close and snug, with that sunny face settled in his hair to breathe him in as well, and that strong heart beating tried and true against his own, tempos in near sync, is just what he needs to help level himself after a nightmare like that.
“I probably know the answer, but, do you wanna talk about it?” Cheng Xiaoshi’s voice murmurs in his hair.
Lu Guang agrees with his statement by shaking his head, those warm breaths moving across his head as he does.
“Yeah, thought so.” He’s given a squeeze. “But that’s okay too, because you at least have enough sense to let me comfort you after your nightmares. So it all works out.”
He’d get an earful about ‘holding everything in’ if he didn’t anyway. So, yes, it does all work out.
“I know—How about breakfast? You up for that?”
Lu Guang shakes his head again.
Cheng Xiaoshi clicks his tongue. “Really? Not even for some scrambled eggs and toast I can whip up super quick?”
Another shake of his head.
While he’s much calmer now—no longer gasping for breath and trembling—he still isn’t quite ready to let his partner go yet. That nightmare, while closely distant, is still harrowingly fresh in his head. He worries that if he lets go, he’s going to panic again. If he can’t feel that heart thumping, can’t feel those arms around him, can’t feel his living, breathing, beating warmth… then he’ll completely nosedive.
He's never had a nightmare like that before.
He doesn’t want to find out what happens if he lets go too soon.
“This really was been a bad one then—a good hug and some breakfast usually gets you right out of bed.” He surmises. “You’ve gotta eat something though, Guang-Guang. You hardly touched your dinner last night.” Bringing his head down to press his forehead against his own, a mix of black and white bangs sifting between.
Sustenance is important. But… the thought of letting go right now makes his stomach flip; thrown in a dryer on a high spin setting. He knows he has to at some point, but he can’t bring himself to do it. Instead, he presses himself into his partner as much as he can, filling in every little crevice of empty space between them—where not even the folds and wrinkles of their clothes have space to breathe.
Cheng Xiaoshi’s brows knit together in an upwards pull. “You’re still scared, aren’t you?” He pieces together.
Lu Guang doesn’t have to say a thing: it’s evident with his behavior.
A beat of silence, a tender kiss to his forehead, followed by a light inhale.
“In that case, I’m gonna have to bring in the big guns~” He says, patting his back in a gentle, but enthusiastic manner.
He does lean away and take one hand from his back, but only to reach over him and pat around the other side of the mattress, right below the pillow. He smacks around a few times, pff, pff, pff, tmp! Until his hand connects with more than just sheets and pillowcase. When he finds it, he’s quick to tug it right towards him, the sound of something scraping or shifting following suit. It’s small, rectangular and green: Lu Guang’s cellphone is what he grabbed and now holds like it was his own.
“Left mine downstairs.” He grins, unlocking his phone easily.
(Lu Guang gave up on hiding his passwords from his nosy partner—doesn’t really keep anything important on it anyway.)
He taps at the screen a few times, kitty keychain dust plug jingling from his heavier-handed taps. “Let’s see here…” He mumbles.
Seconds later, he holds it up to his ear, while his other hand stays lovingly busy by patting Lu Guang’s back. Then—
“Lu Guang? What’s up? You hardly ever call.” Qiao Ling’s voice crackles faintly through the speaker.
“Qiao Ling Jiě, it’s me.” Cheng Xiaoshi says back.
“Cheng Xiaoshi? Why are you calling me from Lu Guang’s phone?”
“Left mine downstairs~” He laughs. “Not important though! I have a favor to ask!”
“Ugh, what? It better not be anything like your last favor.”
“Nah, this is different, I promise! Can you come to the studio with something sweet from that drink shop we like?”
“That’s an oddly specific request. Why not go get one yourself? Trying to bum a free drink off me, huh?”
“No, no, it’s not for me, it’ll be for Lu Guang. Y’see, he had a bad dream, like, really bad—poor thing won’t even let me go to get up for breakfast.”
Cheng Xiaoshi changes from patting his back to gently rubbing it when he mentions his nightmare; fingers and thumb working in tandem, soothing circles against the soft cotton of his slightly sweat-dampened shirt. In which Lu Guang quietly appreciates; a hand of his own gently scratching his partner’s back in silent thanks.
“Oh, he had another one of his awful nightmares?” The crackle of Qiao Ling’s voice changes. Concern bleeds through the static, replacing her previous playful annoyance with Cheng Xiaoshi completely.
“Yeah, he’s still pretty frazzled from it. So, I thought you could help pull him out of it. After all, what better way to cheer up than with a sweet drink while having the ones who care about you close by?”
“Hmm, well said—coming from you, that is.” A teasing crackle from her over the speaker.
“Hey! What’s that supposed to mean??” Cheng Xiaoshi barks, an over-exaggerated pout pulling his brows down and his bottom lip up.
A staticky laugh warbles through. “Exactly what it’s supposed to mean~ But I’ll be there in half an hour.”
“Thank you, favorite landlady~” A musical response back.
“I would hope so.” A curt but light-hearted agreement before the lines disconnect.
Cheng Xiaoshi leans back over, putting Lu Guang’s phone back where he plucked it from.
“Don’t you worry, Guang-Guang, extra help is on the way~” He smiles, wrapping his free arm back around him. Soon after rubbing the tip of his nose against his own.
“But until then, I’ll stay right here with you.” Followed up with a kiss on the soft patch of skin between his eyebrows.
“Thank you, Cheng Xiaoshi…” A quiet, hoarse show of thanks, but genuine through and through.
He’s given a big smile in return.
“A guest has arrived.”
“I’m here!”
Qiao Ling’s distant voice calls shortly after their doorbell greeting resounds.
Cheng Xiaoshi turns his head, over his shoulder as his hands move to gently cover Lu Guang’s ears. “Up here!” A beckon loud enough to travel downstairs with ease.
He takes his hands away from his partner’s ears and moves them back to hug him. “Didn’t want to hurt your ears~” He hums tenderly.
He would have been fine with the shout, uncovered ears or not, but, he appreciates the sentiment.
There’s rustling—plasticky and watery almost—as movement faintly echoes from the first floor of the studio. Tmp tmp tmp as steps ascend the staircase. The rustling sounds grow louder once they hit the second-floor landing. Creee goes the hinges to their bedroom door as Qiao Ling pops her head in first.
“Oh, you mean up here, up here.” She mentions, finding them both up high, crammed in Lu Guang’s bunk.
“Told ya he didn’t wanna let go.” Cheng Xiaoshi reinforces, almost a nasally mocking sound in his tone; a triumphantly teasing ‘ha-ha’ on the playground.
“Thought you were being dramatic—you do have a tendency to over-exaggerate things.” An impish muse humming around her words as she steps over to the bunk-bed.
“Not when it comes to our Guang-Guang though.” Cheng Xiaoshi shakes his head, ignoring her playful jab.
“Fair point.” She says.
She sets something down on the ground, the plasticky sound rustling. Then the sound of her climbing up the small metal ladder echoes out before her head pops up into view. When she catches the sight of them, her round eyes soften as a gentle smile pulls her lips up.
“Hey, Lu Guang.” She greets with a voice akin to the soft sweetness of cotton candy. “Heard from our resident loudmouth that you aren’t having a very good morning. So—” A hand comes up; a cool, slightly sweating drink in her grasp. “—I got you a little something: Milk tea boba from your favorite café.”
Much like a cat, Lu Guang slow-blinks at her. He shifts a little, but doesn’t make any further movement to let go of Cheng Xiaoshi or reach for the drink: Like he wants to, but simply can’t.
“Here, Ling-Jiě, let me.” Cheng Xiaoshi takes one hand away from his partner to reach back and out.
So, she hands the drink off to him, beads of condensation clinging and dripping down the plastic cup. A chain of movement; The drink passes its way from her, to him, until it hangs in front of the desired recipient. Cheng Xiaoshi’s cedar eyes round out, softening as he holds out the drink for his partner to take.
“Here, bǎobǎo.”
Pink flushes against Lu Guang’s cheeks, peony-bright from the extra intimate pet-name given. Usually doesn’t call him that unless they’re alone.
But, he does pull one hand away from his partner to take the drink offered to him. The beads of condensation are cold against his warmed skin, the drink inside cooling even the plastic of the cup. If he were any less warm it’d make him shiver. But, it’s a welcoming cold—helps him feel more grounded, awake. He lowers the cup, lips finding purchase on the thick green straw to drink, pulling the liquid up through with a mouthy inhale. Meanwhile, Cheng Xiaoshi gently rubs his back in their cramped hug.
It's the right blend of sweet and fragrant: The chilled milk and the floral tea in harmony against his tongue. A little ball of boba floods through and he bites down on it, the jelly-ball bursting against his teeth, mixing in with the existing flavors of the drink. It’s cool. It’s sweet. It’s refreshing. It’s comforting.
Gray eyes break away from the drink, towards the space by the ladder in which Qiao Ling still stands on its rungs, leaned in on the mattress, chin propped up by her left hand as she smiles warmly.
“Good?” She asks, gray eyes full of familiar care.
Lu Guang pushes a confirmation out through his nose, a warmed exhale. “Thank you, Qiao Ling Jiě.” Soft, hoarse voice thanks.
“Of course~” A smile given that makes her eyes shine. “But you don’t have to thank me—that’s what family does for each other, right?”
Lu Guang inhales, soft and sharp, a rasp in his throat from his earlier screaming and crying. Not wanting to break down again, he simply nods and distracts himself by continuing to drink the milk tea.
“Once you’re done with that, freshen up a bit and come downstairs: I picked up some ingredients to make us all a big ole hot pot!”
“Ooh, a hot pot~” Cheng Xiaoshi repeats in a dreamy fashion. “That’ll be tasty, won’t it, Guang-Guang?” A bright smile as he tucks his head down, dipping it into the fluffy white of his partner’s hair.
Lu Guang’s eyes gently close as he hums an agreement in between sips of his drink.
“Yup! Nothing helps beat those bad dream blues like a good meal with loved ones—trust me!” Qiao Ling beams like the early morning rays of sunshine: gentle, but so full of life.
“Uh-oh, trust you?” Cheng Xiaoshi muses, playfully mocking. “Last time I made that mistake I got a mooncake filled with egg yolk instead of red bean paste!”
“Hey!” Qiao Ling huffs, reaching over, nearly pressing her entire upper body into the mattress just to be able smack the back of Cheng Xiaoshi’s head for that. “You just didn’t listen to when I said which mooncake was filled with what, you dummy! That’s your own fault!”
“Ow!” He cries (even though the smack did not hurt at all). He pulls his face out of Lu Guang’s hair to pout at her. “Was not my fault, you stinky girl tiger!” He even sticks his tongue out at her.
A smile finds it’s way on Lu Guang’s face quietly, betwixt the banter between the two. He calmly sips on his drink, surprisingly much more grounded and calm hearing them bicker. Smiles are on either of their faces, so they’re definitely not being mean and fighting on purpose. If anything, their eyes of soft gray and warm brown keep flicking to him as they ‘fight’, gauging his expressions; like they’re play fighting just to help him feel better.
It's silly, but it works. He appreciates them for that more than they’ll ever know.
“You keep that up and I won’t make enough hot pot for you! Me and Lu Guang will eat it all!” Qiao Ling threatens.
“Hey! Don’t you take away my hot pot share! I need that!” Cheng Xiaoshi gasps. “After all, I’m still a growing boy, I need that meat!”
“You’re twenty-two, Cheng Xiaoshi! The only thing that’s growing right now is my headache with you!”
The quiet smile on Lu Guang’s face cracks a little wider, even around the straw in his mouth.
“Oh really?” Cheng Xiaoshi muses darkly. “Then why don’t I just go ahead and make it worse by yelling out really dumb noises! Bwuak!! Errrkgh!! Hpbttrtnbbl!!”
“Okay, I take it back—you’re a child, Xiaogē!” Qiao Ling leaned into the mattress to clamp both her hands over her ears.
“Ha! That’s right! I’m a—” The proud infliction in his voice wavers. “Wait… I don’t think I actually wanted to win that argument.”
“Hm-hhm-hm~” Lu Guang exhales a closed-mouth laugh.
Eyes of gray and brown lock on to him as bright smiles wash over their faces.
“Aww~ we got him laughing, Ling-Jiě!” Cheng Xiaoshi beams, nuzzling his face back into his white hair.
“I’d say that’s mission accomplished~” She beams, with much less enthusiasm, but the same warmth and brightness. “I’d better get started on that hotpot then—I’m sure someone’s about to get his appetite back.”
“Sounds like a good idea.” Cheng Xiaoshi seconds.
“Right. I better see you both downstairs soon!” She points at both of them.
“Aye-aye~”
“Mm.”
She nods decidedly, pulling herself away from the mattress to climb back down the ladder. Her steps touch down on solid ground and the plasticky rustling sound echoes again. Must be a grocery sack making that noise. Soon after, her steps cross the bedroom, through the threshold of the second-floor landing, and then in a careful rhythm down the stairs.
Cheng Xiaoshi smiles and heaves a light, little sigh. “Sisters, right? What kinda brother would I be if I didn’t give her a hard time and a headache or two?”
“…A good one.” Lu Guang says with a faint grin hiding in the corners of his lips, nearly hidden by the cup and straw of his drink.
Even though his response comes out as a flat jab, it makes the smile on his partner’s face grow three times its normal size. One of his hands break away from his back, only to reach up, cup his face, and rub his cheek with his thumb.
“There’s that smile~”
Lu Guang’s eyes dart away as the peony-pink blush returns with reinforcements.
“Hey, why don’t we change out of these clothes, freshen up, and help our favorite landlady with the hotpot?”
Gray eyes return back. “…Okay.” He agrees.
He truly does feel much better than before. While he still wants to stay close to his partner, he can at least unlatch himself from him now.
“I’ll stick close by though; I can tell you still need it.”
Always reading him better than an open picture book, despite how much of himself he tries to keep hidden under lock-and-key. Cheng Xiaoshi truly is an incredible partner—even if he’s rash and reckless most of the time.
“Thank you, Xiaoshi.”
“Of course, bǎobǎo~” Sealed with a gentle kiss to his cheek.