Work Text:
TRANSLATE '老公' (chn. /lǎogong/) to English:
1. Husband
I don't wanna get undressed for a new person all over again
The last week of filming ended three days ago, but neither of them had left Wuxi yet. Their shared room felt different without the constant buzz of early morning calls, makeup artists rushing around, and scripts scattered all over the place. It was quieter, more intimate, and somehow the air felt ten times heavier than any of them were willing to admit.
Ziyu's chest felt tight most of the time, like he was holding his breath underwater. Each glance, every not so accidental brush of fingers when they walked beside each other, every soft laugh Xuning let out when he thought Ziyu wasn't paying attention, it all felt like stepping closer to the edge of a cliff he wasn't sure he wanted to jump from. Without the safety net of their characters, without the excuse of scripted intimacy, Ziyu was left so completely vulnerable, his heart doing complicated things every time Xuning so much as smiled at him.
He was falling apart in the most beautiful, terrifying way possible.
The rational part of his mind kept screaming about the impossibility of whatever this was becoming.
'Stop getting so attached.' He pointedly told himself, but his heart had apparently decided to stage a full rebellion. Ziyu caught himself noticing the way Xuning's left eye twitched whenever he felt embarrassed or threatened, and would internally scream whenever his voice could would go in a completely different octave each time he giggled. Or the way he unconsciously reached for Ziyu's hand when they'd talk casually. Or the way his voice got softer when it was just the two of them.
It was pathetic, really, how gone he was. How completely, devastatingly gone.
The irony wasn't lost on him that Wu Suowei had been less of a character to play and more of a mirror to hold up to his own life. The same stubborn work ethic that kept him in the practice room until his body gave out, the same way of swallowing hurt when others decided he was an easy target. Even the same bewildered certainty that he liked girls, that he was supposed to like girls, that whatever this ache in his chest was when he looked at Xuning couldn't possibly mean what it felt like it meant. Wu Suowei had been fortunate enough to find his Chi Cheng. But Ziyu was still lost in the before, still waiting for someone to show him it was okay to stop pretending.
They weren't dating. They weren't exactly friends either. Yet they existed in a liminal space that made Ziyu yearn for something he didn't want to admit.
Tonight, like most nights this week, they sat on the small balcony overlooking the city lights, cold beers sweating in their hands. The August air was scorching–so much that Ziyu had only a thin tank top on with a pair of shorts, his bare legs tucked up under him in the chair. Xuning sat across from him, looking unfairly attractive in just a simple black t-shirt and loose pants, seemingly unbothered by the temperature.
"Do you think that Wu Suowei and Chi Cheng got their happy ending?" Ziyu asked suddenly, breaking the comfortable silence. His voice was soft, almost hesitant.
Xuning snorted, more amused than dismissive. "You know the story. They got married."
"No, I don't mean in the story." Ziyu took a sip of his beer, then turned to look at Xuning directly. The city lights reflected in his large eyes, making them seem even bigger, even more yearning.
"I mean, in real life... do you believe that love like that actually works?"
Xuning was quiet for a long moment, his gaze fixed on something in the distance. When he finally spoke, his voice was lower than usual.
"Yeah." He looked away, as if the admission cost him something. "I think love like that works. I think it's the only kind that does."
The silence that followed stretched between them for what felt like hours but was probably only two minutes. Ziyu felt his heart hammering against his ribs, wondering if Xuning could hear it in the quiet night air.
"Can you believe we're nearing the end of this?" Ziyu's voice came out smaller than he intended. Xuning clicked his tongue, a sharp sound of disapproval.
"Don't be so negative all of a sudden. I'm here right now, aren't I?" The words should have been reassuring, but they only made the anxiety in Ziyu's chest tighten. Right now, yes. But what about next week, when they went back to their separate lives, separate cities, separate worlds?
"Call me 老公." The words came out of nowhere, casual as asking for another beer.
Ziyu nearly choked on his drink.
"What?" His voice cracked slightly, and he could feel heat creeping up his neck. 'Why the fuck should I–'
"You heard me." Xuning set down his beer and moved closer to Ziyu's chair, his voice dropping lower. "Call me 老公."
"No."
This feels awfully familiar.
Ziyu looked away, focusing intently on the condensation sliding down his beer bottle, trying to distract himself from the way his heart was hammering. Xuning had kneeled to his level, and his hand found his waist, fingers curling around the soft fabric of the shirt. He pulled him gently but firmly closer.
Ziyu pointed at him in warning, his finger nearly touching Xuning's chest.
"Gē, I'm warning you. Do not Chi Cheng your way into this."
"Why not?" Xuning's lips curved into that infuriating smirk that made Ziyu's stomach flutter.
Damn you, Tian Xuning.
"It's... It's weird."
"Come on..." Xuning's free hand came up to gently turn Ziyu's face back toward him, forcing eye contact. His touch was warm against Ziyu's skin. "You said it before. Can't you say it again?"
"That was acting."
"Was it?"
Ziyu looked away completely, pulling back slightly. "I'm not saying it." I can't say it.
Xuning laughed, a soft sound that held both amusement and resignation, and let go of him.
"Okay, okay. Fine."
Something in his expression had closed off, and Ziyu felt the distance between them like a physical ache. They finished their beers in relative silence after that, both lost in their own thoughts as the city hummed below them.
Sunday arrived with all the cruel efficiency of an execution date. Ziyu had woken up with a knot in his stomach that only grew tighter as the day progressed.
As evening approached, they found themselves on the balcony again, but this time with cigarettes instead of beer.
The silence between them was heavy with all the things they weren't saying. Ziyu took a drag of his cigarette, the smoke harsh in his lungs, and tried to memorize the way Xuning looked in profile against the backdrop of Wuxi's skyline.
"I don't want to part with you," Ziyu said suddenly. His voice was barely above a whisper, but it seemed to echo in the quiet night air. The familiarity of the sentence was painful to say the least.
"Me neither." Xuning's reply was immediate, certain, and somehow that made it worse.
They stood in silence, watching the city lights twinkle below them like fallen stars. The distance between them felt insurmountable despite being only a few feet apart. At some point, Xuning stubbed out his cigarette and moved toward the sliding door.
"Let's go in," he said softly. Ziyu nodded and followed him inside, the warmth of the hotel room a stark contrast to the night air.
They carefully moved around each other as people who had been sharing space for weeks but were suddenly hyperaware of every gesture down to every inhale.
Normal, domestic things that felt loaded with significance now that they were ending. When they finally settled into their respective beds, they'd been sharing this forsaken room for the past week, twin beds pushed together but still technically separate.
Ziyu lay on his back and stared at the ceiling. Sleep felt impossible. His mind raced with everything he wanted to say, everything he should have said, everything he might never get the chance to say again. He turned onto his side and found himself studying Xuning's sleeping figure in the dim light filtering through the curtains.
Even in sleep, Xuning was beautiful.
His usually sharp features softened, his dark hair falling across his forehead, his breathing steady and peaceful. Ziyu felt his eyes begin to burn with unshed tears. How was he supposed to go back to his life and pretend these past two months hadn't happened? How was he supposed to move on, when the thought alone of never sharing a quiet moment like this with Xuning again made him feel like he was drowning?
Almost without conscious thought, he found himself moving closer, inch by careful inch, until his face was nearly pressed against Xuning's. He could feel his breath against his skin, could count his eyelashes in the dim light. He was close enough to kiss him, close enough to—
Xuning's eyes fluttered open, dark and alert despite having been asleep moments before. Ziyu froze, mortified at being caught so close, but before he could pull away, Xuning's arm came up around him, pulling him even closer with surprising gentleness.
"Can't sleep?" Xuning's voice was rough with sleep, barely above a whisper. Ziyu shook his head, not trusting his voice. Tears he'd been holding back all day finally spilled over, hot against his cheeks. Xuning let out a soft hum of concern or maybe sympathy, something that made Ziyu's chest ache, and pressed his lips to Ziyu's temple, then again to his forehead.
The tender kisses only made Ziyu cry harder. All the emotion he'd been trying to contain came pouring out, and he found himself sobbing quietly against Xuning's chest while strong arms held him close.
"Can we not part ways?" The words came out muffled against Xuning's t-shirt, desperate and raw. Xuning didn't answer, but his hand came up to stroke Ziyu's hair, and he pressed another soft kiss to his temple.
Somehow that non-answer made the ache in his chest even worse.
The silence stretched between them, heavy with everything they couldn't say. They pulled apart slightly so they could see each other's faces. Xuning's thumbs came up to wipe away Ziyu's tears, his touch infinitely gentle.
"Is it a crime to love so hard?" Ziyu asked, his voice breaking on the words.
"No," Xuning said firmly, his own eyes bright with unshed tears. "It's not."
"Is us being together so wrong that I have to bear the feeling of my heart tearing itself apart?"
Xuning leaned forward to kiss Ziyu's temple again, lingering this time.
"I can't live a single minute without you." The confession tore out of Ziyu's heart like fireworks and burned through his eyes. Xuning's carefully maintained composure finally cracked, and tears began to slide down his cheeks.
"Neither can I," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. His hands came up to cup Ziyu's face, thumbs brushing away fresh tears. The sight of Xuning crying made Ziyu sob harder. He'd never seen the older man so vulnerable, broken open, all his walls crumbling.
The same desperate longing reflected back at him. The same impossible desire that had been eating him alive. It wasn't one-sided at all. It wasn't just him drowning alone. The realisation sent electricity crackling through his veins. In a twisted fashion, Ziyu felt good to see this side of Xuning.
"Maybe in a parallel universe, we'd get our own happy ending," Xuning said, his voice barely audible. His tears caught the dim light, making tracks down his face that Ziyu wanted to kiss away.
"Why not this one?" Ziyu asked, searching his face desperately.
"This world is too unfair. Too cruel. Sometimes the best thing we can do is nothing at all." Xuning's voice was crumbling as he spoke, more tears falling with each word.
Ziyu stared at him, memorising every line of pain on his face, wishing he could take it all away.
Unfair.
"I'm sorry." Xuning pulled him into a tight hug, burying his face in the curve of Ziyu's neck.
"Why?" Ziyu asked, his hands automatically coming up to tangle in Xuning's hair.
"I wish we had more time. I wish I could make you happy." The words were muffled against his skin, but Ziyu heard them clearly.
He laughed, but it came out wet and broken. "You do make me happy." He sniffled, trying to get himself under control. "These past two months were probably the happiest I've felt in years."
Xuning pulled back to look at him, fresh tears spilling over. The confession seemed to hurt him as much as it comforted him.
"How can someone look so cute while crying?" Ziyu asked, managing a watery laugh as he wiped Xuning's tears with shaking fingers.
"Speak for yourself," Xuning replied, but his voice was fond despite the tears. They stared at each other for a long moment, both of them tear-stained and emotionally raw, this moment etched in their hearts because they knew it might be one of their last.
Then Xuning breathed out shakily and kissed him. It wasn't their first kiss, they'd kissed dozens of times during filming. But this was different. This was so real. Desperate and soft and heartbroken all at once. Ziyu kissed back immediately, his hands fisting in Xuning's shirt, trying to pull him impossibly closer. Xuning's lips were warm and slightly salty from tears, and he kissed like he was trying to pour everything he couldn't say into the contact. His hands tangled in Ziyu's hair, angling his head to deepen the kiss, and Ziyu made a soft sound that was part sob, part moan. When they broke apart for air, Xuning immediately moved to kiss along Ziyu's jaw, then down to his neck. His lips found that sensitive spot just below Ziyu's ear, and he kissed it gently, reverently.
"Tell me," Xuning whispered against his skin, his breath warm and unsteady. "Please. Just once. Just for tonight."
Ziyu's resolve, already weakened by emotion and proximity, finally shattered completely.
"老公," he whispered, and felt Xuning's sharp intake of breath against his neck.
"老公, please don't leave me."
Xuning groaned and kissed him again, harder this time. Their mouths moved together with desperate familiarity, tongues sliding together, hands grasping at whatever they could reach. Xuning's hand slid down to Ziyu's waist, pulling their bodies flush together, and Ziyu could feel his heart hammering against his ribs.
"Say it again," Xuning murmured against his lips.
"老公," Ziyu breathed, and was rewarded with another deep kiss that made his toes curl.
"老公, I love you so much." Xuning's grip tightened on him, and he kissed down Ziyu's neck again, finding that spot that made him shiver and focusing his attention there. His lips were soft but insistent, alternating between gentle kisses and the barest hint of teeth that made Ziyu gasp and arch against him.
"I love you too," Xuning whispered against his ear, and the words sent electricity down Ziyu's spine.
"I love you so much, I don't know how to let you go."
They kissed again, and again, and again, soft kisses and desperate ones, sweet kisses and hungry ones, kisses that tasted like tears and promises they couldn't keep.
Xuning's hands roamed over Ziyu's back, his sides, mapping out the curve of his body like he was trying to burn the image of it into his brain. Ziyu lost track of time, lost track of everything except the feeling of Xuning's mouth on his, the weight of Xuning's body against his, the way Xuning whispered his name between kisses. His own hands clutched at Xuning's shoulders, his back, anywhere he could reach, trying to hold onto this moment, this feeling, this person who had become the centre of his universe.
"老公," he whispered again, and felt Xuning shudder against him.
"Don't stop saying that," Xuning murmured, his lips brushing against Ziyu's ear. "Please don't stop."
So Ziyu didn't stop. He whispered it between kisses, gasped it when Xuning found particularly sensitive spots and breathed it against his lips. Each time he said it, Xuning kissed him a little deeper, held him a little tighter, like the word was anchoring him to this moment. When they finally broke apart, both breathless and shaking, Ziyu immediately pressed his face against Xuning's chest and wrapped his arms around him, holding on like his life depended on it.
"Don't let go," he whispered against the soft fabric of Xuning's shirt. "Please don't let go." Xuning's arms tightened around him, one hand coming up to stroke his hair.
"I won't," he promised, his voice rough with emotion. "I will never let go."
They lay there in the darkness, holding each other close, both knowing that morning would come whether they were ready or not, both trying to stretch this moment into eternity through sheer force of will.
***
Morning came with all the cruelty of an unwanted alarm clock.
Ziyu woke first, his body stiff from sleeping pressed against Xuning's chest, their limbs still tangled from the night before. For a moment, in the hazy space between sleep and consciousness, he almost forgot. And for a second, he let himself believe this was just another ordinary morning in their shared suite.
To him, nothing felt real in that moment. Everything had a strange, distant quality to it. The morning light filtering through the curtains seemed too bright and too dim at the same time. The noises of the hotel were completely muffled, like he was underwater. His own hands looked foreign as he reached for his clothes, and even his reflection in the bathroom mirror felt like looking at a stranger wearing his face.
That morning, they moved around each other like ghosts. They didn't–couldn't even talk to each other normally, let alone spare just a glance. The silence was deafening. Not the comfortable quiet they'd grown used to, but something so fragile that threatened to shatter if either of them spoke.
Xuning finished getting ready first, disappearing into the bathroom while Ziyu zipped up his suitcase with hands that trembled slightly. When he emerged, hair still damp and smelling like expensive shampoo, Ziyu felt his chest constrict equally with both desire and ache.
"Ready?" The word came out rougher than intended.
Ziyu nodded, not trusting his voice, and grabbed his suitcase handle. The wheels made too much noise against the hotel room floor as he headed for the door.
"I'll drop you at the airport."
The words stopped Ziyu mid-step. He turned to find Xuning already reaching for his jacket, not quite meeting his eyes but close enough that Ziyu could see the exhaustion written across his features.
"You don't have to-"
"I want to."
So Ziyu nodded again, and they made their way to the elevator in silence.
The car ride was torture. Xuning's designated driver, knowingly, didn't dare say a word and kept his eyes firmly on the road, somehow sensing the tension between the two at the back. The city rolled past the windows, morning light catching on buildings and streets that had become familiar, that would now always remind Ziyu of this summer.
Of this ending.
They sat on opposite sides of the backseat, close enough to touch but maintaining a careful distance. Ziyu kept his hands folded in his lap, hyperaware of every inch of space between them. A few times, he caught glimpses of Xuning's reflection in the window, jaw tight, eyes distant, but neither of them turned to look at the other directly.
The airport appeared too soon and not soon enough.
"We're here," the driver announced gently, pulling up to the departure terminal. He got out of the car with discretion, positioning himself several feet away and pulling out his phone. "Take your time," he called back to them.
For the first time since waking up, Ziyu turned to look at Xuning. Found him already staring back, dark eyes unreadable but somehow still managing to convey everything they couldn't say. They looked at each other across the small space of the backseat as two people burning with desire, who yet again couldn't be together.
Ziyu felt that familiar pull, the magnetic urge to reach out, to kiss him, to crawl across the seat and lose himself in Xuning's arms one more time. But he couldn't. If he touched him now, if he let himself have even one more moment of that warmth, no force on earth or even the gods would be able to get him out of this car.
He sighed, his own sound pulling him back into reality as he reached for the door handle.
Xuning's hand shot out, fingers wrapping around Ziyu's wrist. Familiar and warm fingers.
Ziyu froze and turned, his heart hammering, but Xuning wasn't looking at him. Couldn't seem to look at him. His eyes were fixed down.
"In another life?" Xuning's voice was barely above a whisper. He hesitantly looked up at Ziyu with a shaky gaze.
"In another life," Ziyu confirmed, his own voice steady despite the tears threatening to spill over.
They let go simultaneously, fingers sliding apart like they were releasing each other into the wind.
Ziyu opened the door and stepped out into the morning air, not looking back as he grabbed his suitcase from the trunk. He could feel Xuning's eyes boring through him through the car window, but he kept walking toward the terminal entrance, each step feeling like he was leaving a piece of himself behind on the pavement.
The automatic doors slid shut behind him with a soft whoosh, cutting off his last connection to the car, to Xuning, to the summer that had changed everything and led to nothing at all.
I don't wanna kiss someone else's neck and have to pretend it's yours instead