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Chapter Text

Shen Wenlang looked up and saw Gao Lele in Gao Tu's arms. He was stunned. Then the bitterness on the tip of his tongue turned into sweetness, and the sour plum instantly turned into sweet apricot.

He smiled knowingly. —Gao Lele had a face that would make people discourage him from going for a paternity test with Shen Wenlang. He is almost a carbon copy of Shen Wenlang, they are just like each other! What kind of DNA test is this? It's just a waste of money!

The father-son relationship between them is so obvious to any idiot, unless they are blind!

Shen Wenlang wanted to pick up the little peanut and give him a couple of kisses. He really did love this little guy for a reason!

~~Ω~~

Huasheng lifted the mask to put it on, the slight shake of the car’s movement made it a fiddly process. Gao Lele, a caring child by nature, reached to help him put it on. Lele’s quiet timidness appeared to melt away when placed in a position of care and responsibility. Paired with Huasheng’s openly social nature, the child bloomed for the first time outside the comfort circle of his family.

Shen Wenlang’s attention, however, was locked onto Gao Tu with pinpoint focus. The smile on his face was almost unnerving, especially compared to the guardedness in the others’ expressions.

He didn’t miss the micro shift in Gao Tu’s movements when the little face of their child had been revealed. There was no hiding the truth—not even if you struck Shen Wenlang over the head, gouged his eyes out, and claimed it was all an attack-induced hallucination!

Gao Tu, however, seemed to have his eyes glued downwards. Not daring to look at the alpha next to him. His hands held onto the child in his lap carefully. Protectively—like a child caught red-handed stealing snacks from the kitchen, with no way to deny it nor wanting to bare facing the consequences.

Shen Wenlang sobered, remembering what Gao Tu had said, pleaded;

‘Please don’t hurt my child.’

“Gao Tu… I would never-”

“We’re home! This is our home!” Gao Lele announced, pointing out the window and looking back at Huasheng. Gao Tu’s shoulders relaxed, like finding refuge from a thunderstorm. Meanwhile Shen Wenlang felt a stab of panic shoot through his body.

Gao Tu reached for the handle of the door, like a rabbit about to bolt and disappear from Shen Wenlang’s life all over again. Instinctively, a hand reached out to stop him, “Gao Tu wait—"

The car behind them also stopped. Ma Heng, a pace quicker than Song Feifei, jumped out the car as Gao Tu stepped out.

Gao Tu held Gao Lele close to his chest once again and didn’t even seem to pause to turn round. Shen Wenlang handed Huasheng back over to the nanny and scrambled to get out the car to chase after the omega.

“Gao Tu” three voices all said at once.

Two states of Gao Tu’s mind collided at once. The state of mind where he had long forced himself to be peace with the past by just not thinking about it at all, and the state of mind that took him back to their school days, when liking Shen Wenlang was simpler and less painful. And a similar collision of silent determination and pride came over him.

Gao Lele’s little neck was swivelling back and forth like a spectator at a tennis match, not understanding the situation, but very much aware of the atmosphere between the adults.

“Ma Heng,” Gao Tu finally spoke, “could you and Feifei take Lele inside.”

Shen Wenlang watched as Ma Heng peeled Lele out of Gao Tu’s hands, the child reluctant to let go at first before conceding. It took Shen Wenlang a conscious effort to not let instincts take over him and try stop them from taking their child away. Knowing that if he acted on such an impulse, it would only cause more stress to Gao Tu who he was already on shaky ground with. By another stroke of luck from that lunatic pair’s child, Huasheng’s head poked out the window, holding the mask that had been given to him.

“You forgot your mask!”

Song Feifei paused and looked to the others, not quite sure how to respond.

“We’ll return it next time.” Shen Wenlang concluded. Ma Heng’s mouth opened to counter such an idea that they would return, but Huasheng was quicker.

“Mn! What is borrowed must always be returned!” He waved to Lele before obediently tucking his head back into the car.

Ma Heng looked at Gao Tu, who also hadn’t refuted Shen Wenlang’s words or shut them down, and his lips formed a straight line. His expression was a mixture of concern and slight dissatisfaction. Not at Gao Tu, but at the situation on hand. Song Feifei looked at Gao Tu who gave her a small nod. With this, she nudged Ma Heng to continue walking.

There was silence between the alpha and omega as the trio went into the house. The air felt thick and empty in equal measure.

“Gao Tu…” Shen Wenlang started again. Gao Tu turned and made his way to the door, and Shen Wenlang trailed after him. That fear bubbling up again.

The thought that the moment Gao Tu would close that door, that would be the last time he saw him. That three years of dead-end searching would be three more years, if not more. Because at the core of it, he would always chase to find the only omega, no, the only person, who had wedged themselves so deep into his heart that it would be like ripping out part of his soul's existence if he tried to concede and let him go.

He almost discovered a newfound respect for Hua Yong’s shameless and crazy pursuit for Sheng Shaoyou out of love.

When they reached the door, Gao Tu spun around just as Shen Wenlang was about to call his name again.

“Shen Wenlang,” Gao Tu cut in and bowed his head, “I’m sorry for any trouble I have caused you in the past. Lying to you…wasn’t something I took lightly or did to deceive you for ill intentions.”

Shen Wenlang took a step forward, trying again “Gao Tu…”

Gao Tu took a step back on instinct, eyes still lowered. There was no point trying to convince Shen Wenlang that Gao Lele wasn’t his child at this point any more. He continued, “I never had any intentions to blackmail you either. That day…was just as much as an ambush for me as it was for you by my father.”

Memories of that day clouded Gao Tu’s senses. That was the first time he had genuinely felt a primal fear as an omega, one with a life growing inside them, and last time he had seen his father ever since. He tried to steel himself. The past was the past.

“There is nothing I want from you. And I don’t have much I can give as compensation if that is what you want. But then we can go our separate ways and continue our lives separately-”

His words were cut off by a body wrapping around him and a pair of strong arms encircled around him tightly. For a moment, Gao Tu froze up. A sense of familiarity from that night. No matter how much Gao Tu had tried to suppress those memories, the feeling of Shen Wenlang’s body was etched too deep into his mind, like a coffee stain on wood.

“I’m sorry.”

Gao Tu was stunned on the spot. In all the years he had known Shen Wenlang, the proud alpha had never been one to apologise. Let alone so sincerely. He was a man of pride and stubbornness and would never submit even if a mountain were placed on his shoulders forcing him to.

Shen Wenlang buried his face in his shoulder, arms wrapping desperately tight around Gao Tu as if his life depended on it. As if Gao Tu would vanish like smoke. If anyone had told Shen Wenlang his pride would abandon him in the face of true hopelessness, he would have sneered at them and mocked them as a result. He certainly had done so enough towards Hua Yong.

And yet here he was. A deep-seated fear of loss, born from a sense of warped rejection that traced all the way back to his omega father. Damn it, Omega’s really were the root of his issues. But they were also the source of his desperate desire to love and be loved and the disgust at what pain that love could bring.

It was that disgust that caused him to lose Gao Tu in the first place because of cruel words said in the heat of the moment, more times than he could count. It was that disgust that caused Gao Tu years of endless pain and torment. He really was despicable. Desperate and despicable.

The scent of irises filled Gao Tu’s nose, bringing a sense of ease and clarity amongst the chaos in his brain. Shen Wenlang’s voice rose as he cried, all sense of decorum and rehearsed lines gone completely out the window.

“I’m so sorry Gao Tu. Please, I didn’t know. I’m sorry.”

‘I didn’t know’

A pang of guilt came over Gao Tu. And with that guilt came back that fear again and Gao Tu started to struggle to get out of the embrace he shouldn’t like, couldn’t want and didn’t have right to.

“Sh-Shen Wenlang …” he tried to protest. But it was as if Shen Wenlang was truly consumed by fear and desperation to the point of madness. And what he said next truly threw any sense of comprehension to the wind for Gao Tu!

“I like you very much Gao Tu!”

That struck Gao Tu like lightning, dumbstruck, wondering if he misheard. Shen Wenlang, thinking Gao Tu hadn’t heard him clearly, said it again with more clarity and with even more panicked rambles of desperation,

“I love you; I love you so much! Please don’t run away again! I’m sorry! I’ll give you shares to the company; I’ll marry you, I’ll give you everything I have! I’ll give it all up for you, just please give me another chance!”

Gao Tu didn’t even have time to process the entirety of the declarations and pleads. Shen Wenlang’s voice continued to rise, and Gao Tu realised the alpha was edging very close to being loud enough for their nosey neighbours’ curiosities to be piqued.

He awkwardly patted Shen Wenlang’s back, unsure how to comfort the alpha whose pride in every sense of the word, had completely left him. It was almost comical, really—if anyone saw Shen Wenlang like this, it would be a memory brought up even long after his funeral!

“Please give me another chance. Please don’t run away again. Please don’t leave me. I really do love you.”

Gao Tu had since stopped trying to escape the hug. Every time he tried to pull away, Shen Wenlang would cling tighter.

“I’m sorry. Can you give me another chance?”

“Shh. Okay, Okay. I understand.” Gao Tu tried to pacify and coax, “Okay, Okay. Wenlang, keep your voice down there’s no need to be so loud.”

Hearing his name spoken so familiarly by Gao Tu eased a little bit of fear in Shen Wenlang’s heart. Gao Tu never spoke with a harsh tone, but he could carry a finality in his voice. There wasn’t a trace of rejection or finality. A small but fragile lifeline.

He finally pulled away, just enough to cup Gao Tu’s face. Gao Tu as a result was forced to face Shen Wenlang straight on, and very close.

“Gao Tu, I really do love you. Please give me another chance. I really didn’t know. I’m sorry, please…Please.”

Out of panicked embarrassment, Gao Tu pulled Shen Wenlang into a tight hug, frantically patting his shoulder to comfort him, buried deep in the alphas scent once again. Just so he could hide the rising colour on his face from being seen. Shen Wenlang continued to beg for another chance into Gao Tu’s shoulder.

“Okay, okay that’s enough now,” He said soothingly. No different to when he would calm Gao Lele down when he would panic around unfamiliar places. Still patting his back, “Wenlang, okay, okay. I’ll give you a chance let’s stop this now, okay?”

Gao Tu glanced ahead and could see two bright eyes peeking out from above the open window of the car. Suddenly he was very aware that nosey neighbours weren’t the only ones who could take a great interest in what was occurring on his doorstep. There were potentially three sets of eyes also behind the front door who could see and hear them.

With this thought in mind, and a motion too quick for Shen Wenlang to protest, Gao Tu pulled back and put an arm’s length of distance between them. His hands gripped the alpha’s forearms with impressive force, yet still gentle. He tried to swallow down the red tint to his face but failed miserably.

“Shen Wenlang, you should be heading off. Huasheng is in the car...”

A little scream from his pride cried out in his mind. So far in the distance it was like a mosquito whizzing through his brain in the rain. If he had paid attention to it, the reality of his outburst being witnessed by the direct connection to the two people he most definitely didn’t want to have the story retold to would have made him want to dig a hole for him, Gao Tu and Lele and hope they would outlive the alpha and enigma pair before resurfacing!

Then again, if that psychopath Hua Yong was born without any shape and sense of shame towards Sheng Shaoyou only. Then he surely could throw his own sense of shame away for Gao Tu, and Gao Tu only too!

“Gao Tu, you won’t run away again, will you?” the words tumbled out hurriedly.

The omega shook his head equally hastily, but his eyes were resolute, which calmed Shen Wenlang further.

“I’m not running away. But you do need to go…”

“I’ll be back tomorrow.” Shen Wenlang cut in.

Gao Tu blinked rapidly, red flush turning white, “W-what? Why tomorrow?”

“So, we can talk properly.” The alphas hands were firm against Gao Tu’s shoulder. Firm but steady as he leaned towards Gao Tu’s face slightly “please?”

“Okay yes, yes. Tomorrow.” He quickly agreed.

Shen Wenlang took in Gao Tu’s face again, wanting to simply look at him after all this time, then pulled him into another hug. This one was not desperate, but gentle. His nose brushed ever so slightly against bare skin as he inhaled the scent of Sage one more time, causing Gao Tu to shiver involuntarily and his shoulders to hitch at the sensation. “I’ll see you tomorrow. Gao Tu.”

Gao Tu didn’t know where to put his hands this time. Before his brain could catch up, Shen Wenlang had already released him and got into the car. Out the corner, Huasheng peeked up again and waved at Gao Tu who waved back dumbly. Shen Wenlang looked back out at him from the open window, his eyes not leaving till the car completely pulled away.

Huasheng returned to his seat in front of Shen Wenlang and stared at him, as if awaiting to hear how his papa Wenlang was going to explain the situation away.

Wenlang reached forward and pinched Huasheng's cheeks, grinning like a madman in joy before schooling his face.

“Peanut, you’re too young to understand. But don’t breathe a word of what you saw to your parents.”

Huasheng’s eyes lit up and a grin spread across his face.

“Is that the wife father keeps talking about?”

Especially after that day when he came home from the amusement park, the neighbour hugged his father, stood at the door and cried loudly, repeatedly saying "I'm sorry", "I like you very much" and "Can you give me another chance" to his father, Gao Tu's face would turn red every time he saw that neighbour.

~~1.1 EXTRA~~

Shen Wenlang had managed to dodge Huasheng’s questions all the way back to the hotel, to the point he outright began to ignore him. For someone whose attention span should’ve been measured in minutes, Huasheng had the tenacity of a seasoned interrogator.

Only when they had returned to the safety of the hotel did Shen Wenlang dismiss the bodyguards, not even giving Huasheng the grace to be carried properly, much to the nanny’s dismay. Instead, he was tucked under Shen Wenlang’s arm like a parcel at his hip. Still Huasheng persisted, unaffected by the almost brutish hold.

“Dad said your wife is the only omega who would put up with you, so why didn’t he tell you off for making so much noise?”
“Daddy Wenlang, why didn’t you tell me you had a friend for me to play with!”
“Papa said you didn’t get to say goodbye to your omega, are you seeing him again?”

Even in the elevator, Huasheng’s questions hadn’t ceased. Once in the room, he placed the talkative child on the counter. He used the only two words that ever got him to stop.

“I need to call your parents. Nanny will cook dinner for you.”

His ears perked up, “Are you calling Dad or Papa?”

“Hua Yong.” Wenlang replied as he pulled his phone out and pulled up his contact as he stepped toward the dining table where the laptop sat.

While waiting for Hua Yong to pick up, Shen Wenlang turned the laptop on, already starting to move appointments and meetings around and extending the hotel stay. Eventually the familiar voice of the Enigma could be heard, his voice was husky—a clear giveaway that this wasn’t the right moment to be calling.

“Wenlang, tell Peanut—”

“The business trip is being extended.” He cut in.

~~Ω~~

Huasheng was dressed in a neatly pressed pair of blue pyjamas as he laid on his stomach on the bed. Shen Wenlang was in the other room glued to his laptop, minding his own business—doing grown-up work.

The day’s events played over in little Peanuts mind. He’d never seen Daddy Wenlang so…embarrassingly tragic! Like a really sad soap opera!

Daddy Wenlang had finally found his runaway wife! All thanks to Peanut’s fateful bump with that other boy! If Peanut hadn’t insisted on going to Country V to go to the amusement park, Daddy Wenlang would have been bachelor all his life!

Huasheng didn’t know what a bachelor was, but when someone called Daddy Wenlang that before, his face had turned red with anger so it must have been a bad thing!

Nodding resolutely to him, he climbed off the bed, his little feet barely able to reach the ground before he ran into the other room where Shen Wenlang was working. He needed to share the good news with his dad and papa!

“Daddy Wenlang, I want to ring Papa.”

Stupidly, Shen Wenlang didn’t even look away from the laptop screen as he reached over and handed the phone to him.

Clutching the phone tightly, he ran back into the bedroom and threw the phone onto the bed before hoisting himself up and crawling under the blanket. He unlocked the screen and searched for Hua Yong’s number, the light illuminating his excited face.

Papa didn’t seem to particularly care about Daddy Wenlang’s tragic lovesickness, but his dad always liked to mention it when Daddy Wenlang was becoming annoying!

He hit the dial button and wiggled his feet under the blanket, practically vibrating with excitement. He had good news to share, and it was all thanks to him!

Chapter Text

Due to the lack of soothing pheromones from his Alpha father during his fetal period, Gao Lele has been an insecure child since childhood. Except for Ma Heng, he is very repulsive to other Alphas and cannot get too close to them. But he showed no fear of Shen Wenlang's approach, on the contrary, he was very curious.

~~Ω~~

Morning broke at last, sunlight spilling through the blinds of the luxurious hotel windows, casting a warm, golden glow across the room. Shen Wenlang typed furiously, scrapping the original plan to fly back that afternoon and stretching his stay another week, rescheduling meetings wherever possible, some being moved back, others being moved to online.

He had slept hardly a wink, as his mind churned over the events of the day before, while his body buzzed knowing he had not only found Gao Tu, but was seeing him again. He’d managed to call the crazy couple last night and arrange for them to detour to Country V on their way back, citing that it was purely business related.

Meanwhile, Huasheng was sat at the dining table eating a bowl of rice porridge while chattering away to Sheng Shaoyou through a videocall. He was still dressed in a pair of blue pyjamas and his hair still sticking up in spots.

The alpha was still in bed, laying on his side while looking through the screen, voice soft and filled with warmth, “We won’t land until the afternoon there. Your father has some meetings, so we’ll have dinner after, okay baby?”

Huasheng nodded excitedly, spoon in his mouth. “Daddy Wenlang has told me your flight number and the time you land.”

Shen Wenlang had already laid out a plan: their little peanut would be waiting diligently at the airport when his parents arrived. But for the rest of the morning, Huasheng would stay with the nanny, and Wenlang would be the one to take him later.

He’d considered bringing Huasheng with him now, but ultimately decided against it. He needed to see Gao Tu alone first. He knew that was probably the last thing Gao Tu wanted, but he didn’t want any external interference. Especially that damn alpha who had the audacity to try and get in his way.

Gao Lele would likely be at school, and it made sense to see Gao Tu while he wasn’t with him. He needed space to breathe, they both did. It was very evident that this little rabbit was as fiercely protective of their child, as he was anxious. And having Gao Lele there would only heighten emotions between the pair. Gao Tu’s anxiety and caution, Wenlang’s regret and fear.

He did hope that by bringing Huasheng later, he would act as a bridge, a small reassurance that Shen Wenlang wasn’t what Gao Tu had painted in his mind for the last three years. The chance he hadn’t been given before Gao Tu had vanished. He hoped, after having the chance to speak with Gao Tu alone, he could also use the little peanut as a buffer for Gao Tu to feel more comfortable with them spending time together with Lele. Still, a niggling fear lingered that Gao Tu would shut him out entirely, refusing any access to Gao Lele at all.

Huasheng truly was his lucky charm gifted from the gods after enduring playing a role in Hua Yong and Sheng Shaoyou’s matchmaking stage performance and hopefully that good fortune could rub off on him today!

Still, his instincts tugged in opposite directions: one urged caution—gentle steps, like approaching a lone rabbit in the wild. The other surged with desperate impulse—a wolf poised to pounce before its prey could bolt.

He tried to be rational, but the desperation clinging to him from the night before still gripped his insides. He wasn’t proud of his shameless outburst, and once the dust settled, he knew mortification would come like a tidal wave. But desperation had outpaced logic, and his nerves still buzzed with the fear that Gao Tu might slip through his fingers again, like smoke in the wind.

Sheng Shaoyou smiled at Huasheng when a familiar face popped up over his shoulder and took the phone. Hua Yong’s face filled the screen, “Peanut, put Wenlang on the phone.”

Huasheng pursed his lips and switched the phone’s camera towards Shen Wenlang’s direction, “He’s busy.” And switched it back to himself, “Daddy Wenlang has been busy all morning.”

“That’s because he’s trying to capture his runaway wife.”

No one had to see Hua Yong’s face to know—despite his gentle tone, the smugness was undoubtedly there in his eyes.

Shen Wenlang’s head snapped up, looking straight to Huasheng accusingly. That little sneak of a godson! He should have known the spawn of that lunatic wouldn’t keep yesterday’s events to himself. During their last call, Shen Wenlang had used the whole business with Novartis Technologies as the reason for extending the trip. So much for that! He never should’ve left Huasheng alone on a call with his parents!

“Peanut!”

Huasheng spun on the chair, pointing the front facing camera so he was in the foreground with Shen Wenlang in the background. Huasheng and Hua Yong would regularly butt heads for Sheng Shaoyou’s attention, Wenlang had witnessed that more than enough times and was even dragged into it on more than one occasion too. But blood was thicker than water when it came down to it. And being a godfather only granted you so much loyalty. Huasheng’s ultimate weapon would forever be Sheng Shaoyou.

“Papa says lying is bad! Daddy Wenlang wanted me to keep a secret!”

Sheng Shaoyou’s muffled snort into his pillow could be heard even off camera.

Hua Yong’s small smile spoke volumes, “Wenlang, you should be thanking Peanut, not asking him to keep secrets. What’s taken you three years with no results, took him less than three hours. Without our little peanut, you might really have died old and alone.”

Shen Wenlang tsked and turned back to his computer, refusing to give Hua Yong the satisfaction of an answer. Huasheng turned back round so his face filled the camera again.

“Tell Wenlang he’s taking you with him today. He needs someone to show Gao Tu he may be an idiot, but he can be sincere when he uses his brain.”

Sheng Shaoyou’s hand briefly entered the screen before the camera moved so both of them were in view, “We’ll message when our flight is about to take off. See you later baby, be good.”

Huasheng nodded, waved at the screen, ended the call, and spooned porridge back into his mouth, all while looking as innocent as a freshly picked daisy.

“Tattletale,” Shen Wenlang grumbled.

Huasheng paid his godfather no mind, happily munching away. He was all too familiar with the stories of how lovesick his Daddy Wenlang was. In his little mind, it was only natural to share the good news that he was the one who’d found the cure!

Shen Wenlang closed the laptop with a snap and checked at his watch. Huasheng glanced down at his pyjamas, “Father said you’re taking me with you today?”

“You’re coming with me later.” Shen Wenlang replied as he stood up and came over.

He lightly pinched Huasheng’s little round cheeks. And with a smile, a feeling of pettiness rose in his chest, “For betraying your one and only godfather; your punishment is staying here this morning to contemplate the saying ‘Loyalty begins where convenience ends.’”

Peanut’s mouth dropped open as he watched Wenlang grab his keys and head out, feeling somehow swindled—just not sure how!

~~Ω~~

Shen Wenlang pulled up, just as Gao Tu and Gao Lele were stepping out of the house. He could see how Gao Lele held onto Gao Tu’s hand tightly while the other pulled the door shut. He couldn’t hear them, but when the child noticed Shen Wenlang, he tugged Gao Tu’s hand to get his attention and pointed in his direction.

He turned around and looked at where Lele’s little finger was pointed to. Momentarily, Gao Tu was glued to the spot as he stared back at Shen Wenlang, feeling unsure what to say or do. His hand around Lele’s tightened slightly as he watched Shen Wenlang climbed out of the car and walked towards them.

With every step, Wenlang’s stomach churned with giddiness, while a cautious knot tightened beneath it. He still couldn’t quite grasp the emotional truth that Gao Tu had finally been found. He wanted to take the elusive omega into his arms and bury his face in the long-missed, and very coveted, scent of sage. His expression remained neutral, but tenderness crept in when he finally spoke.

“Morning.”

When he looked down at Lele, a fond smile broke out on his face. It was soft and warm. And a very not Shen Wenlang expression that Gao Tu had seen all those years working together.

The memory of yesterday smashed through his brain like a bulldozer and a bright red flush came across his face. He coughed and cleared his throat, “Good morning.”

“Where are you going?”

His first instinct was that Gao Tu was about to make a run for it. But he schooled himself with logic, grounding himself enough to stop the panic from rising by reassuring himself that if Gao Tu had planned to run, he wouldn’t be stood here right now.

“Lele has school,” Gao Tu replied, pocketing his phone and a set of keys. With Lele still holding his hand, they stepped out onto the street, “I didn’t expect you to be here so early.”

In truth, Gao Tu had hoped he wouldn’t be. Not now, not yet.

“I didn’t want to wait. And thought sooner the better, than delay it,” He offered, trying to offer a sense of reassurance as he glanced back at the curious expression from Gao Lele and smiled at him, “Hua Yong and Shen Shaoyou are landing tonight to come pick Peanut up.”

Shen Wenlang fell into step behind them. He noticed how Gao Tu angled himself, sandwiching Lele between them—preferring the anxious discomfort of proximity to Wenlang over the risk of Wenlang being close to Gao Lele.

A small ache lodged in Wenlang’s chest at the thought that Gao Tu genuinely feared he might hurt their child or snatch him away. He wanted to reach out, cling to Gao Tu and insist otherwise, but the memory of yesterday crept up and public pride held him back. It was a constant internal struggle between caution and compulsion.

Meanwhile, Gao Lele glanced between the two adults, observing them with innocent curiosity.

“Who are they?” Lele asked, his interest piqued at hearing Huasheng’s name.

Before Gao Tu could quietly remind him it wasn’t good manners to ask personal questions, Shen Wenlang replied, “That’s Huasheng’s parents. They went travelling for a little bit.”

The subtle relaxation of Gao Tu’s shoulders didn’t go amiss under Shen Wenlang’s gaze. He knew that there was at least some level of misunderstanding regarding his relationship with Hua Yong. That would need to be cleared up and the sooner, the better.

For now, the most he could do was emphasise he really had no intimate relationship with that crazy Enigma. He looked back to Lele, “You can see Peanut later before he goes to the airport. If it’s okay with your papa,” Gao Lele’s eyes lit up as Shen Wenlang looked back at Gao Tu.

Gao Tu gave a small nod, almost non-committal, and said nothing as they rounded the corner toward the school; a few parents were already arriving to drop off their children. Shen Wenlang looked around with a little curiosity—not used to this setting, even with Huasheng in his life. A few intrigued glances and soft whispers followed him from the other Omegas, but he ignored them entirely, barely registering their presence.

Over the last three years, Wenlang had often wondered what Gao Tu was doing, whether their child was safe, and what their lives might look like. He even dared to daydream about a life together as a family. During his search he monitored every hospital for procedures, each time dreading Gao Tu’s name appearing on a list and yet guiltily hoping it would, if only so he could find him.

He looked back down to Gao Lele, whose bright eyes were already watching him from behind his papa’s legs again. Cautious yet curious about this alpha whose scent was pleasantly calming.

Gao Tu crouched down to Lele, straightening his jacket up as he talked, “Remember to drink plenty and ask the teacher to call if you don’t feel good, okay?”

Gao Lele nodded resolutely. He wasn’t a sickly child, but did occasionally suffer from bouts of anxiety. The first week of school, Gao Tu was called in every day to comfort the boy who would cry and cling to him. Burying his face so deep into the Omega’s neck, he was practically a second skin.

Shen Wenlang watched as Gao Tu pulled out a little handkerchief, a little rabbit embroidered on the corner, heavily smelling of sage and handed it to Lele. He pointed to a tree near the school gate, “I’ll be right over there when you finish.”

Gao Lele nodded and glanced over to Shen Wenlang. Gao Tu’s eyes subconsciously followed. Wenlang crouched down next to them without even thinking, “Is it okay if I come too?”

His smile tugged at the at the corners of his mouth, still marvelling at just how alike they looked. A sweet reminder that this little person not only was Gao Tu’s child, but his. Theirs. Gao Lele glanced up at Gao Tu, searching for a reaction. He noticed his father’s face go a little red, nervous and tight. Not wanting to make Gao Tu uncomfortable, and suspicious that the alpha beside them was the cause, Gao Lele asked, “Is it okay?”

Gao Tu couldn’t help but smile helplessly at Lele’s considerate nature. He glanced briefly at Shen Wenlang and then back at his son, “Mm, if it is not too inconvenient. Mr. Shen is a busy person.”

Wenlang felt a twist of nerves; the line sounded both concessionary and guarded. Like a tentative olive branch and a possible deflection all at once.

He offered Lele a careful smile and a light pat on the head. “I can wait with your papa. Huasheng wants to thank you and give the mask back.”

Gao Lele’s eyes brightened and looked at Gao Tu and back to Shen Wenlang, “Really?”

With a warm grin, Shen Wenlang held out his pinkie, “Promise.”

A little pinkie locked with the alphas instantly, with a returned smile. Lele turned back to Gao Tu and wrapped his arms tightly around his neck, nuzzling and breathing in the scent of sage deeply. Gao Tu stroked his hair lightly while returning the hug before releasing him.

“Okay, go on in then.”

With a final nod and wave, Lele ran inside. Both men stood up and were silent. It was Shen Wenlang who turned his head to look at Gao Tu’s profile. His face was still tinted pink but his expression soft and pensive while his eyes were glued to the door Lele had run in to, the tension in his shoulders that had lingered the entire walk had eased somewhat.

“He reminds me of you from our school days.” Wenlang said.

“But he looks just like you.” Gao Tu admitted without thinking. Realising what he had said snapped him out of his thoughts and looked at Shen Wenlang, “W-what I mean to say is… well, I mean—” Gao Tu cut himself off, eyes darting away.

Shen Wenlang smiled gently to try to reassure him. Inside, everything was pandemonium: excitement, longing, fear, happiness, and a raw, aching desperation pulling him in every direction. He wanted to press Gao Tu into a kiss and confess how much he’d missed him, how stupid he had been and how awful he had felt for everything he had said and done to lead them to this point. He wanted to fold him into a tight hug and beg for forgiveness. He wanted to whisk him back to the hotel and hide him in his arms until they returned for Lele, to say the things he’d hoarded for years and finally lay them bare.

Instead, he settled with brushing his fingers across the others wrist with caution, gauging his reaction. He watched as Gao Tu tensed up slightly and his colour flitting between pale white and pink.

Ignoring the multiple curious eyes that followed them as they left, Gao Tu led Shen Wenlang back to the house. The walk was silent, but oddly peaceful despite the tension building in Gao Tu’s shoulders again. As if both were acclimatising to each other’s presence after so long, while simultaneously with every step, Shen Wenlang felt his longing gnawing harder at his insides and Gao Tu felt he was drowning in his own inner troubled thoughts. Shen Wenlang’s eyes never left the other as they walked, watching him closely, unsure how best to approach this small, resilient rabbit who was both strong and fragile.

The initial terror of losing Gao Lele had been quelled through brute forced logic by Song Feifei, after finally exposing the past to her. Ma Heng had left to care for Lele, allowing the pair of Omegas to talk. There was no justifiable, or logical reason, for Shen Wenlang to want to take their child away based on his dislike for Omegas and children.

Gao Tu had to remind himself to think, to let reason overrule the instinct to protect his child, however hard that was and couldn’t be rewritten overnight. He forced the logic of the situation in front of the raw reflex that twisted at his insides with Shen Wenlang nearby. The fear and horror from the words Shen Wenlang had said that day, about forcing an Omega to abort his child, still etched deep into his nerves. Not to mention the following events after. He tried hard not to keep those memories from surfacing; when they did, his stomach coiled until he felt sick.

It was unfortunately, and to Gao Tu’s embarrassed horror, Feifei who had let slip that everyone had heard Shen Wenlang’s confession and pleas outside the door that night. The revelation had thrown Gao Tu into turmoil, making everything messier, more confusing.

Still, it offered a small clarity that bolstered Song Feifei’s reasoning for Shen Wenlang’s motivation regarding Gao Lele; he had no intention of taking him from Gao Tu or hurting him.

But that meant decoding what Shen Wenlang wanted now. What did a “second chance” actually mean? What did he mean when he said he loved them? He shut the M‑word out of his mind completely.

Gao Tu may have been a romantic in the past. Gao Tu may have daydreamed such ludicrous fantasies in their school years. Gao Tu may have still held silly fond hope while working together. But Gao Tu was most certainly not going to accept or even consider such a proposal, even if it was Shen Wenlang, in such circumstances.

His thoughts drew back to the present, when they approached the front door, and he pulled out the keys, “please excuse the mess,” he mumbled awkwardly as he let them in.

Shen Wenlang followed him. He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t insanely curious to see what Gao Tu’s life was like. He wanted to learn every little detail from the last three years.

The house itself was a completely different environment to the old shabby apartment he had lived in. On the contrary, it suited Gao Tu’s personality rather well. A comfortably cosy space, yet light and airy. The walls a pleasant shade of cream and the floors a warm wood in the living room. The kitchen modern and open, with a dining table off to the side bridging the space between the two. Homely.

Shen Wenlang’s eyes couldn’t focus on one spot, looking around at the little touches that gave a house the title of a home. Toys on the table, a blanket on the sofa, little knickknacks made by little hands and photos dotted around everywhere. The only mildly off-putting detail was the scent of Ma Heng and Song Feifei. Mostly Ma Heng.

“I’ll make you a drink.” Gao Tu said as he disappeared towards the kitchen.

Shen Wenlang hummed an acknowledgement, far too interested in having a look around to say anything, heading straight to the photos.

The first one was of Gao Tu and Gao Qing as children, stood next to it another framed photo of them as adults. Then there was one of Lele, perched on Gao Tu’s lap, the pair laughing happily at the camera. The sparkle in both father and son’s eyes impossible to miss.

Shen Wenlang couldn’t stop the small smile on his face, glancing across different photos of Lele, his expression slowly morphing into silent contemplation as the photos of Lele moved back in time. Some with Gao Tu in, and others with Ma Heng and Song Feifei in.

The one that caught his eyes was a small picture frame. It was Gao Tu in a hospital, cradling a small bundle in his arms while on his side, both him and baby asleep. He was clearly skinny and gaunt, and his pallor washed out. The hand resting around the newly born Lele had a canular with multiple tubes attached to it, and Shen Wenlang felt his heart roar out in pain.

He should have been there for Gao Tu. With him.

After Gao Tu left, he never sought another proper secretary—one who could accompany him to various social occasions. He couldn’t even explain why.

A lover or a secretary—he wanted neither. 

All he wanted...was to wait for that Omega who had vanished without a trace to return.

~~1.2 EXTRA~~

Cold seeped into his bones, the kind that no blanket could chase away. Exhaustion clung to him like fog, thick and unrelenting. The only sound anchoring him to the world was the rhythmic beeping of machines—steady, indifferent, alive when he barely felt it himself.

Labour. He had gone into labour.

Gao Tu pried his eyes open, the sterile white walls glaring back at him like a spotlight on a stage he hadn’t chosen. He tried to lift his hand, but the cannula bit into his skin, a sharp reminder of fragility. His limbs felt like dead weight, as if gravity had doubled just for him.

It was enough to snap his thoughts into clarity amongst the fog.

My baby.

Where’s my baby.

The thought didn’t come—it screamed. Loud, desperate, clawing its way up through the numbness.

His body screamed in protest, but panic drowned out the pain. He turned his head, frantic, eyes wild with desperation.

“My baby,” he rasped. “Where is he?.”

The words barely made it past his lips, but they thundered in his chest. He tried to sit up, even as his body protested, even as his limbs betrayed him. Weak. Heavy.

Fear surged through him, not new but ancient. The kind etched into one’s soul. The kind that remembered. Triggered by that day when he was so frightened for his baby’s life. How Gao Ming’s voice echoed in his mind, cruel and cold. The threat. The price. The terror of that day when his baby's life was almost used as a bargaining chip and his own status almost used as collateral.

Ma Heng was sat next to him and placed a hand on his arm, quickly trying to calm the omega. “Hey, hey—it’s okay, it’s okay. Little bunny—Gao Tu—it’s okay. He’s okay. He’s here, Gao Tu. He’s here. Look.”

Ma Heng’s voice reached him like a rope thrown across a chasm. Safety. Reality. The alpha had been with him. Loyal. Unwavering. He wouldn’t let anyone take his baby away. It didn’t quell the fear that gripped his insides. He looked around, eyes caught the small hospital bassinet.

His breath caught. His eyes locked onto it, then flicked to Ma Heng, pleading without words.

Ma Heng didn’t hesitate. He rose, swift and sure, crossing the room with the urgency of someone who understood exactly what was at stake. He bent over the bassinet, hands gentle, reverent, and lifted the bundle with practiced care.

Gao Tu tried to sit up again, his muscles trembled against the force of trying to move. His body was a wilted flower—petals bruised, stem bent. Yet still alive. But still reaching for the light. Still reaching even as his body screamed out weakly in pain.

His body refused him, but his eyes didn’t. They clung to Ma Heng, to the bundle in his arms, to the life he had fought so hard to protect.

Ma Heng turned, bundle in arms, and returned to him.

“Here,” he whispered. Gentle, reassuring. Grounding Gao Tu amongst the panic.

Carefully, he lowered the baby into Gao Tu’s arms, guiding him with quiet tenderness.

The air was still. Machines hummed in the background, but they were irrelevant, distant—insignificant.

Gao Tu looked down, and his breath hitched as the world narrowed to the soft weight in his arms as he stared down at the sleeping face of his baby. His chest rose and fell with a rhythm that didn’t belong to Gao Tu—and yet, it was the most familiar thing in the world.

For nine months he had carried him, protected him from the world. A presence he had drifted to sleep with, and woken to each morning. A flutter and kick telling him he wasn’t alone—telling him he was safe in his belly.

Gao Tu raised a trembling finger and brushed it along the baby’s cheek, so pink and soft. He had dreamed of this face. Painted it in his mind a thousand times. But nothing had prepared him for the reality of this moment.

Warm. So warm it made his chest ache.

Real. Not a distant thought of ‘If’ and ‘When’s

His.

A face. A breath. A heartbeat not his own.

A life that had once lived inside him—and now lay cradled in his arms.

And just like that, the fear shattered. In its place bloomed something vast and terrifying in its own right—love so immense it threatened to unmake him. A love he thought couldn’t be felt any deeper than the moment he found out he was carrying this little life in his body.

A lump formed in his throat. His body felt hollow, empty where life had once fluttered.

But in his arms, he held what once made him feel full. The life that had filled his existence.

He felt hollow. Alone in his own body. But joy—joy eclipsed it all. And that joy beat away any sense of the word loneliness.

The love of a parent really was nothing like any kind of love he had felt before. It was as deep as the ocean and as vast as the universe. It was the life in a breath and heat from the sun.

Tears welled in his eyes, spilling over as he traced the curve of the baby’s cheek, committing every detail to memory. A face he had imagined, now real. A love so fierce it made his chest threaten to break open.

“Lele,” he whispered, voice cracking. “My little joy.”

Chapter Text

Gao Tu was in so much pain that he was at a loss, his ears were buzzing, and then the first thing he thought of when he came to his senses was to leave.

For a relationship maintained by deception, ten years is the limit.

~~Ω~~

Gao Tu made his way to the dining table, carefully blowing on his own cup while carrying Shen Wenlang’s in the other hand. He paused when he saw him looking at the pictures, eyes flicking between Wenlang and the photo frames. The alpha was clearly lost in thought.

“Lele likes to take pictures and send them to Xiao Qing,” he said, trying to fill the silence. His gaze landed on the photo of himself and Lele smiling as they hugged—warm, ordinary, safe.

He was unaware of the photo that Shen Wenlang was still focused on. “She likes to video call but is usually busy studying so…”

He hadn’t noticed the photo Shen Wenlang was still focused on. Not until his voice trailed off and his eyes followed the alpha’s line of sight—to the image of Lele just after he was born. A mild cold sweat broke across his skin. That ripple of protective fear, quiet but unmistakable, moved through him. A snapshot shouldn’t feel so exposed. But it did. Exposed for Shen Wenlang to see.

But Shen Wenlang remained silent as he reached out and picked up the photo, eyes not leaving it. His expression hard to decipher.

Gao Tu recalled that day both with clarity, and obscurity. The entirety of the pregnancy was anything but smooth sailing, to put it mildly. But the day Gao Lele came into the world had been a the most difficult, and frightening one of all. Most of all, because of Gao Tu’s still recovering body from the years of suppressant abuse, not having Shen Wenlang’s alpha pheromones, and the intensity of giving birth, it was almost the final straw for his body, like a star’s final burst of brightness before dying.

His heart had stopped enough times that the phrase “his heart skipped a beat” no longer read as romantic. Heart monitors and panicked voices in sterile rooms kind of killed that notion off completely to the point it was more of a sick joke than a flowery description.

Ma Heng, being his alpha donor, had been invaluable throughout that period. And Gao Tu was forever grateful. But even then, on the day Gao Tu gave birth, both his and the baby’s instincts cried out for another alpha’s pheromones. Where Ma Heng’s pheromones could be considered as a soft blanket on a cool day, Shen Wenlang’s pheromones would be considered an oasis in a desert.

It was something Gao Tu had buried so deep in his heart, he could reason to himself it was all a part of the chaos and distress of the labour. What he couldn’t remember, he could only describe as an old disk jumping and skipping through a song.

But what he could remember, he remembered with great lucidity: the hum and beeping of machines, the nurse administering cool painkillers into his veins. Mundane details, really. Yet, the clearest of all was the moment he felt Gao Lele laying in his arms for the first time. The little life that his fragile and unwell body had lovingly cared for, and protected fiercely, for nine months. Safe, wanted—loved.

“Gao Tu,” Shen Wenlang’s voice was quiet, eyes still fixed on the photo, “You really did suffer a lot, because of me.”

He finally looked up; pain and regret etched into his face. “You must have really hated me.”

“I didn’t hate you.” Gao Tu said, too quickly. Then paused.

No matter how much he had told himself the past was in the past, Shen Wenlang’s hatred for omegas was proof that nothing was truly in the past if it just bled in the present. Inevitably poisoning the future.

“But…you did make me realise I was just deluding myself.”

Shen Wenlang kept quiet and allowed Gao Tu to speak.

Besides Hua Yong’s jabs, jibes and ‘advice’ over the last three years, including being a godfather to a child he nearly even ended up as the sole parent of; Wenlang had been given plenty of time to realise some things and reflect on others. Determined to do whatever he could, if that meant getting Gao Tu back. Even if it was just to have his presence back in his life.

If that’s all Gao Tu could give him, that was all he would accept.

Gao Tu tucked his hands in his pockets, grounding himself by focusing on the pictures of Lele. Carefully he began to expose a part of himself that he thought he had put to rest quietly, along with the memories of Shen Wenlang and his naïve dreams.

Like blowing off the dust of an old box.

“That day I asked you what you would do if your Omega had a child. I had prepared everything, even spoke to a lawyer to draft legal documents, waivers and even a severance agreement.

Everything, just to make sure you knew I had never had any intention to deceive or manipulate you. Not after so many years of silently liking you, loving you even. Holding on to a friendship and life built on a delusion.”

He took a deep breath to steady himself.

“I would agree to whatever conditions you negotiated. But aborting Lele was never a condition to even consider.”

That day after Gao Tu had been on sick leave, only to return with questions of Omegas and pregnancies. Shen Wenlang outright declared he would have an omega abort his child.

It set off an irreversible chain of events.

Shen Wenlang would never forget it. He couldn’t change what he had said, certainly couldn’t unsay it, and it was one of the biggest regrets in his life.

“If there hadn’t been Lele, I would have accepted whatever punishment you saw fit. But never Lele.”

Gao Tu finally looked up at Wenlang.

“I really was living in such an illusion. A ten-year dream. And it was time to wake up. If not for my sake, then for Lele’s.”

Shen Wenlang’s heart ached with guilt and remorse. Gao Tu was someone who had endured—quietly, relentlessly—for a love held close through years of physical and emotional pain.

While Wenlang, in his mindless ignorance, jealousy and stubbornness, had been the executioner of Gao Tu’s ten-year suffering. Blind to his own feelings. Shackled by a worldview shaped by his omega father.

Gao Tu had every right to hate him.

And yet, Shen Wenlang still wanted him to love him again. To forgive him.

He looked back down at the photo in his hand, and extended it towards Gao Tu.

The Omega reached out to take it. But the moment his fingers touched the edge, Shen Wenlang pulled him forward into a bear hug.

He froze up again, stunned at the sudden motion. Within twenty-four hours, Gao Tu could hardly puzzle together the alpha who was now holding him close. This was neither the Shen Wenlang from his school days, nor the Shen Wenlang from his days as his secretary.

The only thing that offered a measure of familiarity in this confusing shift, was the scent of Iris.

“You weren’t deluding yourself,” Shen Wenlang murmured. “I was the one who was too slow, and too angry.”

Gao Tu felt the arms around him tighten, just slightly. The scent of Iris radiating off of Shen Wenlang, and mixing with his own scent of Sage, brought with it a sense of comfort.

He tried to process what Wenlang had just said as the alpha continued:

“If I could take back every word said, every cruel comment, I would.

If I could erase those ten years of suffering, I would.

If I had known…Gao Tu, if I had known, I would never have forced you to have an abortion.”

“Because I may hate omegas…but even if you are one, I would love you. Regardless.”

Silence settled between them. Only the scent of Iris and Sage, and the sound of their heartbeats, were tangible in the air. And then, very slowly, Gao Tu’s arms found their way around Shen Wenlang’s waist as he buried his face in the others shoulder.

Words Gao Tu had never thought he would hear, words he never even dared hope for—laid bare. It was overwhelming.

For Shen Wenlang, the stone that weighed on his heart finally felt, after three years at last, like it was starting to lift a little. It was impossible to count the number of times he had hoped and dreamed to have Gao Tu in his arms and hold him close. The passing of time filling him with regret and longing in equal measure.

Of course, he knew there was a lot he needed to make up for and to prove. But the fact Gao Tu didn’t hate him, didn’t try to run again or kick him out—those were as precious as gold to the alpha.

They held onto each other for what felt like hours, suspended in the stillness that didn’t need them to speak. It wasn’t until Shen Wenlang’s phone started buzzing that he reluctantly let go.

Gao Tu stepped back and rushed back to the kitchen, mumbling “I’ll reheat the drinks…”

Shen Wenlang noticed how red Gao Tu’s face was and his eyes also looking a little red too. Had he been crying? Or simply been caught up in the moment and embarrassed by it?

There wasn't a chance to ponder these things as he answered the phone, “Huasheng.”

“Daddy Wenlang, it’s so boring here!” Huasheng whined out, “Peanut is very sorry for gossiping with Father and Papa.”

Gao Tu returned, his eyes less raw and his face tinted pink as he sat down. Wenlang placed the photo back on the side, his mood pulled into a different direction as he spoke, “Oh so you know gossiping is a bad habit then? What happened to ‘Daddy Wenlang was making me keep secrets?’,” he mimicked Huasheng’s voice then grumbled childishly, “Some friends are only loyal till the well runs dry.”

Gao Tu kept his gaze lowered, fighting a smile. He couldn’t help being a little amused that Wenlang was arguing so pettily about loyalty and gossip with someone who barely reached past his knees. The childish exchange softened some of the lingering awkwardness in the room.

His emotions still felt raw, both from past pain and new revelations. And his limbs felt like they were buzzing from emotional adrenaline. But it was a welcome break in heaviness around them.

“Anyway, I’ve learned my lesson. Now can I come out with you?” Huasheng pleaded, strategically sidestepping being called out for his gossiping habits with his parents.

“I’ll pick you up later. Keep an eye on the flight details in case there is a delay.”

Before Huasheng could argue or complain, Shen Wenlang promptly hung up on him.

He looked back at Gao Tu, whose thumbs stroked absentmindedly along the wall of the cup. While there were some details he couldn’t share regarding Hua Yong, he could at the very least clear up this discrepancy.

“Gao Tu, there really was nothing going on between me and Hua Yong.” The fingers on the cup stopped moving, “Huasheng is Sheng Shaoyou’s child.”

“But back then…” Gao Tu’s brain went into overtime, going over every little detail and conversation witnessed. Doubt started to creep in. “You said to Mr. Sheng—”

“Hua Yong is the boss of X Holdings.” Shen Wenlang cut in.

That only added even more confused questions to the pile in Gao Tu’s mind. He lifted his cup and took a long drink, trying to assemble a cohesive thought.

“Hua Yong has…admired… Sheng Shaoyou for a long time. He used being a partner with HS Group as a way to instigate a whole situation with him. Unfortunately, he forced my hand to play a part in it, leading to…misunderstandings.”

Misunderstandings were certainly putting it lightly!

Not only had he had to endure beatings from Shen Shaoyou, but he also couldn’t even defend himself or that little Emperor would give him a beating tenfold! The very same little Emperor who liked to remind him he owed him money too.

And then to top it off, Gao Tu was kept in the dark and look where that led to!

Even now—after the years had passed, with Hua Yong feeling more like an extended family member he could never quite lose touch with, and Sheng Shaoyou, whose relationship with Shen Wenlang had deepened into a familiarity that passed for a strange sort of friendship, thanks to Huasheng—he still felt as though a few years of his life had been shaved clean off!

Gao Tu held a hand up to stop Shen Wenlang speaking further, trying to process this information.

“Shen Wenlang,” he started, slowly lowering his hand, “Just give me a minute. Please.”

~~Ω~~

It took a little bit of time, some careful rewording and reframing, but eventually Shen Wenlang was able to finally explain the situation to Gao Tu.

As much as he wanted to simply say, “Hua Yong is a crazy enigma with a clinically diagnosable obsession with Sheng Shaoyou—one that would make locked-up lunatics look like daisy pickers. He used HS Group to force me into his twisted game, painting me as the ultimate scumbag of Jiang Hu, all to make the great, emotionally unavailable Sheng Shaoyou fall incurably in love with him!”

He knew that wasn’t wise.

It was easier to reframe it as: “The little Emperor Omega of Country P was so smitten—to the point of madness by his love for Sheng Shaoyou—that he resorted to elaborate tactics to test whether Shen Shaoyou, the alpha who could never fall in love, might truly love him. Even if it meant lowering himself to the role of intern and fabricating unhinged scenarios to do so.”

Poor Gao Tu looked a little bewildered, trying to digest the information. In a very twisted way, he had to respect Hua Yong’s tenacity to pursue someone with such shameless devotion, knowing full well they might never love him back. Even if Gao Tu didn’t agree with the method’s chosen, he couldn’t help but feel a touch envious at Hua Yong’s confidence and resilience in the face of potential rejection.

He blinked, lifted his cup, and stared into it, processing the offloaded information. Now with context to certain memories, they made them make sense.

“Well that certainly… explains some things,” he managed. “…Huh.”

Shen Wenlang watched him closely, trying to decipher what could be going through Gao Tu’s mind.

Before either of them could continue the conversation, Gao Tu’s phone alarm started to buzz. He didn’t even check what alarm it was before he turned it off. “Lele will be finishing school soon.”

He looked back at Wenlang, “Aren’t you supposed to be picking Huasheng up?”

Glancing at his watch, it was indeed getting close to needing to pick him up, “We could pick up Lele together, then head to the hotel. There’s a park nearby… they could play for a while,” he glanced at Gao Tu. “If… you’re comfortable with that.”

Gao Tu bit his lip, weighing the offer. Then, with a slow nod and a quiet breath, he said, “I’ll get Lele’s car seat.”

While Gao Tu went to the car, Shen Wenlang noticed the apartment next door. The windows were open, and it looked unlived in. The outside construction looked no different to Gao Tu’s.

“Is that one empty?” He enquired lightly.

“Mn? Ah, yes.” Gao Tu replied, “the previous owners wanted more space, they’re expecting twins.”

Shen Wenlang looked at the apartment thoughtfully. The windows were open, the space quiet, empty and unclaimed. He turned to help Gao Tu, but his mind lingered on the empty place next door. Close enough to matter. Far enough to breathe.

The unfamiliar Alpha smell became stronger in his nose, and the piece of flesh and blood in his stomach seemed to have self awareness, trying hard to reject the smell that did not belong to its Alpha father.

~~3.4 EXTRA~~

The drive to pick up Gao Lele had been contemplatively quiet. Neither Alpha nor Omega spoke; the desire to fill the silence was absent, replaced instead by a strange comfort that wasn’t forced.

As they pulled up, Gao Tu climbed out the car and carefully shut the door behind him without even sparing Shen Wenlang a glance—as if his whole world distilled down into the child that about to finish school for the day.

Shen Wenlang quietly got out and followed Gao Tu to the spot he had promised Lele where they would be waiting. Once again, curious stares from other parents followed them.

Gao Tu wasn’t majorly involved with other Omega parents but wasn’t on bad terms either. If you were to ask any of them, they would liken him to a wallflower of sorts—Quiet, pleasant, but ultimately on the outskirts of the crowd.

Which made Gao Tu, stood with Shen Wenlang, all the more interesting.

Because the only people who had ever picked Gao Lele up was Gao Tu himself, as expected, or Song Feifei and Ma Heng, who were more socially engaging with other parents overall.

Neither spoke while waiting, even when Gao Lele ran out and jumped straight into Gao Tu’s arms, his little arms wrapping around the Omegas neck and nuzzling at him.

For the first time since getting into the car, Gao Tu looked truly at ease. His world was in his arms, and the ache of separation had softened.

~~Ω~~

The drive to picking Huasheng up had been quite a different shift in energy as Gao Lele recalled his day merrily. The scent of Iris and Sage in the car relaxing him.

Gao Tu had responded to him warmly while Shen Wenlang quietly listened. Quietly absorbing and cherishing the odd sense of normality of the situation.

With Gao Lele in the car, Wenlang glimpsed at a version Gao Tu he hadn’t been privy to while working as his secretary. A version of him that was more animated, laughed freely and unburdened by the world, as if Shen Wenlang wasn’t even there.

Even though, in truth, Gao Tu was more aware of him than anyone else in that moment.

After pulling into the hotel’s underground car park, it was an unspoken mutual decision for Gao Tu and Gao Lele to wait in the car. He didn’t attempt to get out, and Shen Wenlang didn’t press.

The soft click of the door and the hum of the engine offered a brief reprieve—an odd, comforting return to a world where it was just him and Lele.

When Shen Wenlang returned, holding Huasheng’s hand. Gao Tu couldn’t stop the small ache that struck him deep.

He still wasn’t exactly clear what Huasheng and Shen Wenlang’s relationship was in particular. Even after Shen Wenlang had explained Hua Yong and Sheng Shaoyou were the child’s parents.

But seeing the Alpha look so natural walking hand in hand with a child around the same age as Lele, it was like looking at a future he hadn’t been allowed to have.

He didn’t feel resentment, more like a quiet remorse.

Because after Shen Wenlang’s mortifyingly earnest, albeit embarrassing, confession on his doorstep the night before, Gao Tu wasn’t sure what his future looked like anymore.

When Shen Wenlang opened the door, revealing Gao Lele, Huasheng lit up. Gao Lele’s expression was just as bright as he waved enthusiastically.

“Lele!”

Huasheng practically clawed his way into the car until Wenlang wrapped an arm around his waist and hoisted him back, settling him safely into the car seat.

“You can talk Lele’s ears off once you’re strapped in.” Shen Wenlang said, almost lazily, very accustomed to Huasheng’s impulsive energy.

He didn’t notice Gao Tu at first, but when he did—

“Daddy Wenlang! It’s your w—mpf!” before Huasheng could get the chance to parrot any words that Hua Yong had fed him, Shen Wenlang slapped a hand against his mouth.

“Say it, and you’re back upstairs with the babysitter,” he warned in a hushed, serious tone, holding up a finger for emphasis. “And I’ll tell your papa I’m never taking you on trips again.”

Huasheng blinked up at Shen Wenlang, wide-eyed behind the hand pressed to his mouth. For a moment, he looked genuinely torn—caught between innocent mischief and self-preservation.

Then he nodded. Once. The pros outweighed the cons after all. The threat of being held hostage with the babysitter clearly outweighing the thrill of what he’d nearly spilled.

Gao Tu, meanwhile, had only caught fragments— “Daddy Wenlang,” and something about “your w—” before the rest was muffled. He glanced at Shen Wenlang, who was now buckling Huasheng in with the ease of someone used to wrangling chaos.

The easy rhythm between the two did nothing to ease the ache blooming in his chest.

Once the door clicked shut, Gao Lele and Huasheng launched into cheerful chatter, babbling like lifelong friends meeting after a long period of separation. Their voices filled the car with warmth, contrasting the muted energy up front between Gao Tu and Shen Wenlang as they exited the carpark, neither saying anything.

The silence between them wasn’t strained—it was a protective pause, quietly shared while the children’s laughter threaded through it.

For Shen Wenlang, his mind was flicking between different thoughts like tabs on his computer—open and overlapping, some squashed between others and overall packed chaotically on a screen. Merging into one over-stimulating mess as he tried to navigate the whole situation.

For Gao Tu, it was more like rifling through an overstuffed binder—crammed with colour-coded tabs and random pages, some even threatening to fall out from age. Each section held thoughts, feelings, and memories, all in disarray as he tried to rapidly organise and reorganise his sense of self and the reality he was now living in.

In a way, arriving at the playground was like opening a window on the first day of spring, fresh and revitalising. The Alpha and Omega worked in unspoken tandem as each got out, unbuckled the two excited children and led them to the play area.

As the two small bodies darted in every direction, as if trying to play on everything at once, Gao Tu and Shen Wenlang sat quietly on the bench to watch them. They leaned back and for a moment, not too close to touch but not so far that there was space between them as the binder and the browser stilled—two minds, cluttered and clashing, now softened by the sight of laughter in motion. So much needing to be said while also silently enjoying the peace granted of not trying to navigate the past catching up to their present, even if just for a little while.

Chapter Text

Today, sat in an air-conditioned car that was like an ice cellar, Shen Wenlang, who had lost all contact with Gao Tu, suddenly realised that he was not too lazy to change, nor was he just nostalgic.

Hua Yong's comment made Shen Wenlang think of a possibility that he had never considered before.

—Shen Wenlang really liked Gao Tu.

Shen Wenlang was a person as extreme as a pendulum.

In his career, he had always been very courageous, adventurous, a natural ambitious man, willing to cut through thorns and brambles, and ride the wind and waves. But in life, he was extremely conservative and rarely willing to do things that he was not sure of.

~~Ω~~

It had been just over a couple weeks since Shen Wenlang stepped into Gao Tu’s apartment for the first time.

Now he sat at a dining table, chin resting on his hand as he scrolled on the laptop screen, half-heartedly scrolling through a progress report, his mind elsewhere.

The apartment next door to Gao Tu’s was no longer for sale.

Because he was currently sitting in it.

Still sparsely decorated. Still echoing slightly when he walked across the floor. But liveable. And close.

Was it partially an impulse buy? Of course.

But did it mean Shen Wenlang would be as close to Gao Tu and Lele without outright saying “Please let’s move in, let’s be a family.” without scaring his little bunny off? Absolutely.

His mind wandered back to when they went to pick Lele up from school. The image of their child—a little Wenlang look-alike—running over and leaping into Gao Tu’s arms played over and over in his mind. Something about seeing Gao Tu wrapping his arms tightly around Lele and picking him up with such ease, more than happy to carry him in his arms to the car, filled Shen Wenlang’s heart with so much warmth he could have teared up on the spot.

When they went to pick Huasheng up, Shen Wenlang and Gao Tu sat quietly for a time while the two played. Neither wanted to disturb the quiet peace, even as the silence brimmed with everything left unsaid.

It did give Shen Wenlang a chance to observe the child he had often carried in his thoughts, always alongside his longing for Gao Tu. Not just a face to place, but now a personality too. No longer an abstract thought, but a concrete existence.

Gao Lele was gentle by nature, checking that Huasheng was okay with climbing the high playground equipment, asking if he was thirsty, sharing the mask as they played pretend. But he was also clear-minded and steadfast, pointing out exactly what he wanted to play on, explaining the rules of each game, and talking animatedly about what he liked most about school.

Shen Wenlang had overheard Sheng Shaoyou voicing his quiet worry: not that Huasheng was unsociable, far from it, but that his advanced development might make it harder to connect with children his age. Watching him play with Lele, Shen Wenlang felt a swell of pride that it was his own son that proved that that wasn’t the case at all.

Drifting back to the present, Shen Wenlang caught himself absentmindedly smiling. He refocused on the laptop and continued to tap away.

He finally had an opportunity to cash in the favour from Hua Yong, after he refused to help him back then, after being abducted by that beast of a man he had to share genes with.

His contact with his parents over the last three years had been spotty at best. Hatred for his alpha father came easily. For his omega father, though, it was something more tangled—a mix of confusion, relief, love, and an inexplicable awkwardness born from not knowing the full context of their relationship, compared to the version he’d built in his mind.

He wasn’t ready to unpack all that. Trying to decode a history older than his relationship with the omega who’d pretended to be a Beta, only to disappear for three years after dropping not one, but two, maybe even three emotional bombs, was too much. His parents had been thoroughly pushed to the bottom of the pile.

Still—Hua Yong owed him.

The partnership with Novartis Technologies was still in its infancy overall. The cooperation agreement had been signed, but there was still work that required in-person attention. While Hua Yong handled the details back in Jiang Hu, Shen Wenlang took charge of any meetings that called for a face-to-face presence. It was a happy medium. One that gave him just enough freedom to pursue Gao Tu, while keeping HS Group running smoothly. Unlike that little Emperor, Shen Wenlang couldn’t simply put a plan in place for years, just to swan around courting at his own leisure.

He checked his watch and closed the laptop. He was already forming a habit—seeing Gao Tu and Gao Lele daily, even if only for a few hours over drinks and mundane conversation, while Lele played happily in the living room. What had once felt like a thread ready to snap at the slightest tug had, somehow, become a peaceful routine.

At first, the air between them had felt tight. Like walking into a boardroom meeting without notes, without even knowing what the meeting was about. Their conversations were slow, stumbling—some topics approached with caution, others avoided entirely. But gradually, they’d settled into something resembling normality. Routine.

What had once been a strained connection, choked by the past, had begun to shift. Delicate. Tentative. Not quite friendship—too much history, too little certainty. But it was something. A bond with shape. A rhythm, fragile but steady. A quiet tether. Precarious, yes. But cherished all the same.

He grabbed his phone and made his way out. Gao Tu had been strategic. Careful to ensure Shen Wenlang didn’t cross paths with Ma Heng or even Song Feifei. It hadn’t gone unnoticed.

The day when Huasheng and Gao Lele spent time playing together, Shen Wenlang gave them a lift home. Gao Tu had mentioned Ma Heng and Song Feifei would already be back from work preparing dinner. Just remembering that apricot-scented fruit salad of an alpha was like having an itch he couldn’t quite reach; persistent, irritating, and impossible to scratch.

He might have chosen to stay wilfully ignorant, for Gao Tu’s sake, if the aforementioned alpha hadn’t rushed out of the apartment in a panic the moment Shen Wenlang pulled up. Like Wenlang had taken Gao Tu and Gao Lele hostage and was now returning them after receiving the ransom. The two clapped eyes on each other and the tension was immediate. Palpable.

“Ma Heng,” Gao Tu’s tone was firm but not harsh. Reassuring. “Everything is fine. We picked Lele up and went to see Huasheng.”

The scent of Iris intensified in the air just enough to be noticed.

Shen Wenlang tried to be understanding. He really did. After all, it was Ma Heng who had taken care of Gao Tu and Gao Lele for the past three years. Who had uprooted his life and moved to a new country for Gao Tu. But still, Wenlang couldn’t help the possessive streak that flared every time he thought about this alpha being so intimately entwined with Gao Tu’s past. In his place.

Just thinking about it now made something coil tight in his chest. He had to dampen it with everything he had. As far as loyalty and sides went, Gao Tu would inevitably take that fruit salad’s side.

Gao Lele waved to Huasheng and Shen Wenlang before running over to Ma Heng, holding his hand and heading inside.

Then Gao Tu turned to Shen Wenlang, tone still firm but a tint of nervousness creeping in, “Shen Wenlang. Ma Heng is family to not just me, but to Lele. He is naturally going to worry.”

Shen Wenlang was unaware of exactly what Ma Heng’s impression of him was or what had led him to his conclusion. But based on Ma Heng saying, “You son of a bitch” and “Do you want to force him to an early death?” the first time they met—well, Wenlang could hazard a guess.

And so, since that day, Ma Heng and Song Feifei was usually not around when Shen Wenlang appeared.

Unbeknownst to Shen Wenlang, it was actually Song Feifei who had proposed they keep out the way for the time being.

“He clearly wants to get close to you and Lele, but I don’t think it’s anything nefarious,” she said between bites of an apple, using a knife to carefully peel another slice. “It’s not like he doesn’t have enough money to do whatever he wants. And if he were planning to kidnap you or Lele… doing it outside the hotel he’s staying at hardly seems… practical.”

Lele sat in Gao Tu’s lap on the other side of the coffee table, happily munching fruit without a care in the world. Ma Heng, meanwhile, was stood up and pacing, tight-shouldered, restless.

“With his money, why would it not be practical? He has all this money, so why is he not using it like he did before? He could be trying a different tactic because that clearly didn’t work out for the last three years!”

Gao Tu slowly placed an apple slice into his mouth and chewed even slower. He understood Ma Heng’s worries, but he also saw Feifei’s point. Whether at events or in the boardroom, Shen Wenlang loathed the song and dance of negotiation. He always preferred the direct route.

“Even in our school days, he was always as blunt as a hammer. And when his mind is set on something, he’s like a dog with a bone. Shen Wenlang’s never had patience for underhanded tactics.”

He rested his chin on Lele’s head. His voice turned shy, almost small, as he shared a quiet fragment of their conversation. Heat crept up his neck. “But he did say he would have never forced me to do…that.”

His eyes flicked down to Lele. Some words weren’t meant for child ears.

Song Feifei blinked rapidly, eyes wide at the revelation. Ma Heng’s frown deepened as he sat beside Gao Tu.

“Little Bunny. Gao Tu. If that was true, you wouldn’t have had to go on the run for all this time.”

Gao Tu’s arm tightened instinctively around Lele’s waist. “It wasn’t Shen Wenlang who demanded that deal. That was…”

That particular name was forbidden in their home. Gao Ming hadn’t just orchestrated the situation—he’d used Gao Tu as a bargaining chip, exactly as his mother had feared he would if he ever discovered Gao Tu was an Omega. If Gao Tu hadn’t been forced into that meeting with Shen Wenlang and his father, with Lele’s life used as leverage, he might have slipped quietly out of Wenlang’s orbit. No need for escape. No need to flee the country with the help of that alpha’s omega father, and uproot not just his own existence, but Ma Heng’s as well.

“But what he said to you…” Ma Heng’s voice was slow, hesitant. “He has always hated Omegas…”

Gao Tu buried his face in Lele’s neck, the memory of Shen Wenlang’s words echoing in his mind. He hadn’t expected something like that—not from his former employer. And certainly not directed at him.

‘Because I may hate omegas…but even if you are one, I would love you. Regardless.’

The words replayed in his head, tangled with the memory of Wenlang holding him tight. It was far too embarrassing to repeat them aloud. Let alone admit that, caught up in the moment, he’d hugged him back.

None of the adults spoke. Silence settled over the room until Gao Lele broke the tension. “Papa, this apple isn’t very sweet.”

Gao Tu let out a chuckle, his shoulders relaxing as he tried to ignore the blush rising in his cheeks. He looked at Lele, amused. “That’s because you’ve eaten too many slices.”

“That’s because Auntie Feifei keeps peeling so many!”

He laughed and nuzzled Lele’s temple, warm and affectionate, before glancing back at Song Feifei and Ma Heng. “I don’t want to run anymore. And I don’t think there’s any reason to, either. It’s just…”

His words trailed off, not quite sure what to say. He still felt pangs of anxiety, unsure what exactly to make of what it meant to have Shen Wenlang burst back into his life, after everything, after all this time. Feelings he thought he had resolutely put to rest in his heart were still there, like shadows. But feelings he thought he had resolutely put to rest in his heart were still there like shadows. Feelings that had been disturbed like a bowl of water on an uneven table after what Shen Wenlang had said to him.

Song Feifei rested her chin on her hands, thoughtful.

“Well, seeing as he was begging you for a second chance—why not?” she said at last. “You don’t have to marry the man. You don’t even have to date him. I may not have your history with him, but from what you’ve said, who he was then, and how he is now…it sounds like he’s changed. Maybe, at his core, he really is different.”

The blush that had begun to fade started to creep up Gao Tu’s neck again. Did she really have to bring up that mortifyingly embarrassing confession and then to mention such things like marriage and dating?

But she did have a point.

“But—" Ma Heng started.

Feifei cut in, swift and sharp. “But what? What harm is there in meeting up, chatting, and possibly showing he genuinely cares—and isn’t a stark raving lunatic, of course.” She looked back at Gao Lele.

“What harm is there in him knowing Lele? It’s not like Shen Wenlang’s a convict. Or Mafia boss. Besides, he seems to have changed. If he hadn’t, would Novartis really be willing to work with him? And likewise, him work with them.”

Ma Heng’s apprehension was clear as day, but he had no counterargument.

Song Feifei reached across the table and took Gao Tu’s hand in hers. “It’s your decision,” she said gently. “And we shouldn’t interfere.”

She glanced pointedly at Ma Heng then back to Gao Tu. “But we will still be here for you no matter what.”

Gao Tu’s fingers curled around hers, grateful and unsure all at once. The warmth of her hand steadied something in him, even as the blush lingered.

~~Ω~~

Shen Wenlang knocked on the front door and waited. It didn’t take long for it to open and the familiar face of Gao Tu appear. His finger was against his lips, “Lele is asleep.”

He nodded silently and followed him inside. Gao Lele lay curled on the sofa, bundled in a blanket, eyes closed, and only his forehead visible beneath the folds. Completely unaware of the pair that passed by him as he slept.

The house was blanketed in a warm quietness, the television turned low to nearly mute. Sage threaded through the air, nearly eclipsing the sweeter notes of apricot and vanilla. It was comforting and homely.

Shen Wenlang leaned against the counter with his arms crossed and tilted to the side to watch Gao Lele as he spoke in a hushed tone, “How come he’s sleeping? Didn’t he go to school today?”

Gao Tu was at the sink filling the pot with water as he glanced over his shoulder at Wenlang, then to the direction of their son, before returning his attention back to the sink. “He has days like this sometimes where school just takes a lot out of him. Some children just take longer to adjust is what his teacher told me.”

Wenlang nodded slowly, recalling something he’d read in a parenting book once. Some children took time to adjust to different settings outside of the home away from parents more than others, “is that why he takes something with your scent into school?”

“Mn,” Gao Tu reached for the tea tin, his voice low. “It’s not much, but it does seem to have helped.”

Shen Wenlang carried on watching Gao Lele thoughtfully. Honestly, he wished Huasheng would peacefully take such naps during the day. On the contrary, that child had enough energy to power a grown adult, and then some. But his body clock was at least consistent. It was one thing that made travelling with little Peanut easy.

Gao Tu came over and handed him a cup then took a place next to Shen Wenlang to watch Lele as he sipped at his own drink.

“A lot of it is through play,” he continued, “but he likes to learn and engage. He just overdoes it sometimes.”

A small smile tugged at Shen Wenlang’s lips. He leaned in, voice low and warm against Gao Tu’s ear. “We know who he gets that from.”

In an instant, Gao Tu’s face reddened, and he took a long sip from his cup to try and hide it. He had no interest in bullying this bunny—well, maybe just enough to see that blush bloom, seeing that Gao Tu was receptive enough to respond in such a way. It was a gentle game of finding a balance between seeing what could make him blush, and how close could he get to Gao Tu, without frightening him.

And yes, his little rabbit hadn’t run away after his displays so far. But that was like clutching driftwood in a storm. Now, Shen Wenlang was learning to build a boat sturdy enough to weather it.

His success so far had been little touches, a brush of their hands, a nudge of their shoulders. Even daring to touch his waist and back a couple times. Slowly, he was expanding the boundaries of the garden, testing the soil, coaxing new growth, without startling its soft-footed inhabitant.

Oh, how much he wanted to at the very least hug Gao Tu again. That little possessive streak that wanted in his arms, wasn’t going anywhere. He had gotten close to it a couple of times but always backed off before he could try.

Heat-of-the-moment impulses were one thing; casual initiation was a different kind of voltage—one that could short-circuit everything if misjudged. One that could set him back and push Gao Tu to shut him out and run.

Shen Wenlang wanted to be as shamelessly desperate as he had been that day, but his thin skin had returned, taut and tender, replacing shamelessness with an extreme caution. When he got close, be it physically or with words—his pride resisted, brittle and stubborn, but the ache to be near Gao Tu pressed harder. Dampening any extreme behaviours into gentle and tentative actions.

He hated how easily pride flared up, how it tried to shield him from the very thing he craved.

But longing didn’t ask for permission—it pushed, it pulled, it insisted. And it had done so for years. Only now could it bulldoze round his prickly attitude and stubborn mindset.

Seeing how pink Gao Tu’s ears turned, he let out a soft single puff of a laugh, tickling Gao Tu’s skin, and settled back into watching Lele again.

Gao Lele rolled over in his sleep and buried himself deeper into the blanket, making himself look like a colourful steamed bun.

“Ah,” Shen Wenlang remembered, looking at Gao Tu, “that reminds me...are you still coming over?”

Gao Tu still had half his face hidden in the cup when he dared to glance at Shen Wenlang and give a small nod. “When Lele wakes up. Then we’ll come.”

Shen Wenlang hummed, satisfied. His limbs buzzed with anticipation, the kind that made him want to pace or reach out—anything to bridge the space between them.

His little rabbit was willing to leave the safety of his own territory, and willing to tentatively enter the wolf’s den. It was a step, but in Shen Wenlang’s heart, it felt like a leap.

"And what about winning Secretary Gao back?” Hua Yong shot back: “You that confident about that too?” Seeing Shen Wenlang fall silent, that damn Enigma—who was very skilled in love—immediately stepped on his sore spot again.

~~3.4 EXTRA~~

Shen Wenlang was in his hotel, laying on the hotel suite’s sofa, laptop balanced on his chest, utterly absorbed in his task.

Huasheng had been sent home and was, as of now, somewhere mid-air on a flight back to Jiang Hu with Hua Yong and Sheng Shaoyou—leaving Shen Wenlang blissfully alone with his questionable decisions.

Any poor soul who saw him now would probably laugh. An S-Class alpha, a CEO no less, dressed in a casual cotton shirt and pyjama bottoms, posed like a therapy client mid-breakthrough as he scrolled through listings looking for the apartment next door to Gao Tu.

He told himself it was practical. Strategic. A sensible move for someone with resources and foresight.

But the truth was, he wanted to be within reach, like a well-meaning stray cat—quiet, persistent, and hoping you’ll open the door.

To be nearby in a way that said, “I’m not loitering, I just happen to live here now.”

It didn’t take long before the familiar building popped up. Shen Wenlang sat up so fast the laptop nearly went flying, landing with a thud against his thighs. He adjusted the screen and stared at it intently like striking gold.

Only then did he actually take a pause. The small rational part of his brain—the part that liked to hold onto his pride with a steel leash—tried to intervene. This was impulsive. Unnecessary. Possibly ridiculous.

His eyebrows scrunched. His lips pressed into a thoughtful, almost doubtful line. He bit his lip.

As if it would somehow help, he refreshed the page. If the listing was gone then he’d admit defeat.

Refresh. The apartment was still available.

He could wait. He could think it over. Maybe even sleep on it.

Instead, he clicked.

Schedule viewing.

Then, for efficiencies sake, he clicked again.

Submit offer.

Shen Wenlang exhaled slowly, like someone who’d just made a personal investment and was trying to file it under ‘miscellaneous expenses.’

~~A Week Later~~

Gao Tu unlocked the front door with one hand, Lele’s hand holding onto his other. He had collected him from school after finishing work for the day and was tired, one of those days that that sapped his energy more than usual, but not tired enough to miss the fact that the door to the apartment next to his was ajar.

New movement. Boxes by the threshold. Someone had moved in.

Lele looked over, eating a snack they had bought on the way home, and then up to Gao Tu who couldn’t help but lament that Song Feifei and Ma Heng had briefly mentioned possibly saving up to buy that one or see if the owner would rent it out.

Over the past week, Shen Wenlang had said nothing. Not a word about listings, viewings, or sudden real estate acquisitions. Just quietly developing a routine of coming round. Acclimatising to being around each other. It hadn’t been a discussed thing, it just kind of happened. The whole situation still felt shaky and delicate even after his discussion with Ma Heng and Song Feifei.

And so, Gao Tu hadn’t thought much of it. He’d assumed Wenlang was still at the hotel, or in meetings, still doing whatever CEOs did when they weren’t being emotionally confusing after three years.

Yet, when he glanced down the hallway and caught a faint scent of Iris, his stomach did a slow, suspicious turn.

No. Surely not.

He stepped closer, just enough to hear the unmistakable cadence of Shen Wenlang’s voice, low and polite, thanking someone on the phone.

Gao Tu blinked.

Of course.

Of course it was Shen Wenlang.

Of course it was the alpha who had begged for a second chance after discovering him after three years of being on the run, thinking said alpha was going to hunt him down and force him to abort his child.

He wasn’t angry. Not exactly. Silently bewildered felt more fitting.

Gao Tu stared at the open door, then at Lele, who was looked up at him again, eyes filled with curiosity.

“Well,” he said, voice helpless as he looked down at Lele. “I suppose we have a neighbour now.”

Chapter Text

He shut his eyes, his head aching, and found himself thinking—thinking about Gao Tu’s awkward and shabby appearance when he was studying, thinking about his unremarkable, plain face behind black-rimmed glasses, thinking about the bright, clean eyes hidden behind those lenses, thinking about his soft, full, pale-coloured lips, thinking about him…

He really missed Gao Tu.

He wanted him to come back to work. Or even—if Gao Tu didn’t want to work, that was fine too. As long as he was willing to stay, willing to stay by Shen Wenlang’s side, close enough that Shen Wenlang could see him whenever he looked up, he didn’t have to do anything at all.

~~Ω~~

After moving in, Shen Wenlang had been trying to think of an excuse to invite Gao Tu over. It was during a brief phone call with Hua Yong, who was in the middle of cooking for Sheng Shaoyou and Huasheng, that he discovered a very simple option; Dinner.

As expected, and to Shen Wenlang’s joy, Gao Lele was with him.

Gao Tu’s shoulders were relaxed as he glanced around the house for the first time through the door. Even after stepping into Shen Wenlang’s home for the first time, there was less a sense of tension and more of a sense of feeling like walking into a new office. Unsure where best to put oneself.

And so, Gao Tu offered to help cook while Lele watched cartoons. Shen Wenlang couldn’t pass up an opportunity like this to spend time closer to him as he pushed up his sleeves and got to work.

He didn’t notice how Gao Tu’s eyes lingered on his forearms, just a touch longer than was appropriate, before he fumbled to arrange what he was going to be chopping up, nor hear the internal scolding and mantra running rapidly through Gao Tu’s mind about propriety and self-respect.

They fell into an easy arrangement; Gao Tu prepare the food and Shen Wenlang cook it.

After enjoying the comfortable silence between them, Gao Tu was in the middle of cutting some mushrooms when he had a revelation. He looked at Shen Wenlang as he was frying the meat, “When did you learn to cook?”

His smile was small, but amused as he glanced up at Gao Tu, “Is it that much of a surprise?”

Gao Tu snapped his attention back to the mushrooms, feeling oddly shy at the easiness of Shen Wenlang's response. "Just seems very...domestic...for you."

In truth, Shen Wenlang’s cooking skills were subpar at best. While he couldn’t make anything particularly special, he could at least make it edible. Unlike Hua Yong who would have mastered the art of carving marble, if that was what it took to ensnare Sheng Shaoyou, Shen Wenlang had learned some basic cooking skills in hopes of one day he could show Gao Tu he was capable outside of business. That he was trying to make an effort. Hua Yong had already guessed even after Shen Wenlang had repeatedly stated it was because he was sick of people cooking his food wrong, even using Huasheng as an excuse at one point.

"I'm learning to enjoy it." Shen Wenlang tried to state matter-of-factly, but his eye still held a soft, amused, edge to them.

Gao Tu blushed and forced himself to focus back on his task, feeling like Shen Wenlang was somehow teasing him.

When all the dishes had been prepared and set out, Gao Lele looked at each one with a keen eye like an inspector of a new car. He was used to Gao Tu, Ma Heng and Song Feifei’s homecooked meals, so this felt quite a novel and new experience.

His papa reached over and put some rice into a bowl for him, meanwhile Shen Wenlang did the for same for Gao Tu before sorting his own bowl out. Before Gao Tu had the chance to reach for some of the vegetables, Shen Wenlang swooped in and did it for him along with some of the meat, then turned to Gao Lele.

“What do you prefer Lele, meat or vegetables?”

“Both!” He responded enthusiastically.

Shen Wenlang smiled and filled his bowl, “You need to eat lots to grow big and strong, okay?”

Gao Lele nodded with determination and started eating with gusto, barely registering when Shen Wenlang patted his head. But he did notice his papa fidget in his seat, mistaking it for being nervous, “I want to grow big and strong to take care of papa.”

Compared to Huasheng, who came from a corporate family, who competed with his Enigma father for his Alpha dad’s love yet wasn’t overly spoilt, Lele was raised by his omega dad who would sometimes fall sick but would always dote on him and gave him a comfortable yet simple life, appreciating the value in small things. Different backgrounds yet both children had the same outlook in life.

With a satisfactory nod, Shen Wenlang placed some more meat into Gao Lele’s bowl. Whether Gao Tu was trying to be subtle or not, Shen Wenlang felt his chest go warm when the omega reached over and put some of the meat and vegetables into his bowl, refusing to meet his eyes lest he start blushing again.

That, however, was short lived when he felt Shen Wenlang’s hand on his knee and a gentle tap with his fingers. There wasn’t anything suggestive in the gesture, more like a reassuring acknowledgment of his small act. But it was enough to tint the bunny’s ears pink. Gao Tu cleared his throat and carefully picked up some of the vegetables with his chopsticks, trying to focus on the food in front of him, and not the pleasant feel of the weight of Shen Wenlang's hand.

The rest of the meal passed by with easy conversation, switching through different topics ranging from the latest progression with Novartis, what Lele’s favourite cartoon character currently was, to what Gao Tu’s current work as a corporate translator was like.

“I’ll clean the dishes,” Gao Tu offered. Shen Wenlang was about to protest when Gao Tu held a hand up to stop him, “Please, you cooked the meal. It would be poor manners to not return the gesture.”

Unable to argue with him, Shen Wenlang nodded. The pair looked at Gao Lele who had clearly enjoyed the meal. Because around his little smiling mouth was still remnants of sauce from the glazed pork. The pair both let out a small chuckle at the cute bun.

Shen Wenlang was the first to stand up and reach over to pick up Lele, “Okay then, you wash the dishes, and we’ll get cleaned up.”

Gao Tu was stunned in his seat, watching Shen Wenlang pick Lele up with ease and him wrapping his arms around the alphas neck, without any protest. Happy to be carried into the kitchen like it was the most natural thing in the world.

Over the course of the last couple weeks, Gao Tu had noticed Lele’s curiosity easily grew into being comfortable in Shen Wenlang’s company. He had always been uneasy around alphas besides Ma Heng. Yet with Shen Wenlang he didn’t try and avoid him by gluing himself to Gao Tu’s legs or cry to be picked up so he could hide is face in his neck. On the contrary, Gao Lele would sit next to Shen Wenlang on the sofa and tell him about what he was watching and even lingered around his legs when him and Gao Tu were stood in the kitchen chatting. He even wanted to show Shen Wenlang his art from school, lightly tugging on the hem of his shirt to pull him over.

He snapped out of the initial shock and dumbly stacked the bowls and plates and brought them into the kitchen. Gao Lele, already perched on the counter as Shen Wenlang wet some paper towels to start cleaning his face up, swung his feet happily.

“Did you enjoy dinner?” Shen Wenlang asked as he held Lele’s chin and he wiped his face, smiling when he received a contented ‘mn!’, “Next time I’ll make sure there’s something sweet for you to have. What’s your favourite dessert?”

Gao Tu placed all the items in the sink and started to run the water. His eyes focused on the sink, but his ears very much attuned to listening to the two next to him, his chest feeling warm at really how domestic it all was.

“Hmm,” Gao Lele thought seriously, “fruit and ice cream!”

Shen Wenlang laughed, taking some of the paper towels to dry Gao Lele’s face, “I’ll treat you to some next time. There we go, all clean.” He lifted Gao Lele up and helped him down from the counter, “Go watch some cartoons while I help your papa with the dishes.”

He ran off happily into the living room, leaving the two adults in the kitchen. Gao Tu was suddenly very aware they were alone, and his shoulder’s hitched slightly, feeling rather vulnerable under Shen Wenlang’s gaze when he reached over to grab a towel to dry up.

Shen Wenlang tilted to the side and checked if Gao Lele was watching the television before he turned and his eyes landed back onto Gao Tu, watching him as he carefully washed. His hands were submerged in bubbles and his attention focused, using his arm to push his glasses back up his nose.

Memories from when Gao Tu would work long hours in the office flashed through his mind. The same expression as when he would diligently complete tasks. Shen Wenlang had recalled such mundane memories before. The simplicity in them bringing a small comfort and heaps of the sense of longing that only by standing next to Gao Tu now, could ease.

“You are really good with him,” Gao Tu said, pulling Wenlang back from his thoughts. His eyes stayed focused on the sink and bowl in hand, “you always said you hated children, but anyone would think you had been raised with little siblings.”

'Or raised Lele from birth', he didn't voice. A conflicted mix of feelings at the thought of that statement. Still a delicate spot for Gao Tu.

Shen Wenlang started to dry a plate, replying without even needing to think about it, “I don’t like children. But ours I will love unconditionally.”

The suddenness of such honeyed words took Gao Tu by surprise and his hand jolted in the water, catching his finger along one of the sharp knives as a result. He let out a shocked hiss and retracted his hand out the water as if he had touched a red-hot pan. He lifted his hand and looked at the location of the pain.

Shen Wenlang’s attention snapped to the finger that started to turn red under the bubbles. He almost broke the plate in his hands when he threw it down to the side and caught Gao Tu’s hand. Concern clear as day on his face.

“It’s nothing, just a nick,” Gao Tu tried to reason. He didn’t resist when Shen Wenlang took his finger and ran it under the tap, “I didn’t realise the blade was that close to my hand.”

“You’re bleeding.” Shen Wenlang rested a hand on Gao Tu’s waist and guided him to slide to the side, away from the sink, before letting him go and heading to a cupboard while trying to not look frantic, “We’ll put something on it. Don’t even think about putting your hands in the sink again. I’ll wash up later.”

“But…” Gao Tu tried to protest but the words trailed off. Shen Wenlang placed a small first aid kit on the counter and pulled out a bottle of antiseptic and cotton swabs.

He stayed quiet as he watched the alpha carefully dip a swab into the liquid and gingerly dab at the cut, the sting causing Gao Tu to flinch and let out another soft hiss.

“Sorry, just bear with it for a moment.” Shen Wenlang said softly, resting Gao Tu’s hand in his palm while he carefully dabbed at the slice in his finger.

Gao Tu watched as he tended to him, he couldn’t stop himself from admiring Shen Wenlang while his attention was diverted. His lashes were long, and brows slightly wrinkled as he worked. His jaw, still as refined as Gao Tu could remember, even from their days at school. Yet there was a softness underneath that expression of concentration. A gentleness that still felt foreign to see, and yet Gao Tu found himself, guiltily almost, wanting to see it more.

In the silence between them, Shen Wenlang didn’t stop until satisfied he had cleaned the cut properly. He reached over for a small dressing and took care to cover the wound. Fingers moving carefully to make sure it was secure. Only then could he admire how much he liked the look and feel of Gao Tu’s hand in his. Fingers slender, but capable. Not as dainty and delicate as the more typical builds omegas had. His thumb brushed the others palm absentmindedly, tracing the lines like following a map. Committing them to memory.

Gao Tu stayed still, watching Shen Wenlang intently while sharply aware of the feel of the others thumb brushing along his skin. Somehow, it felt more sensitive than he had expected. Shen Wenlang finally tore his eyes from their hands and looked up at Gao Tu, their eyes meeting.

The intensity of dark brown meeting obsidian paused both people, eyes locked and still hand in hand. The air between them felt thick with the feeling of hesitation. Not knowing who would cut through it first, or how.

Both had made and held eye contact before of course, but never this close. Never this long.

Gao Tu could feel his heartbeat in his ears. Sharply aware of his own breathing that had, by some miracle, stayed steady. He could see the caution in Shen Wenlang's eyes, and without glancing down, Gao Tu's thumb brushed ever so lightly over Shen Wenlang's. It was a small gesture, but one that was to ease both of them.

Then, tentatively, Shen Wenlang reached up and touched Gao Tu’s cheek. Eyes searching for any sign he might pull away, only to find there was none. All he saw was those bright dark eyes, looking back at him. As if searching for something in Shen Wenlang too. Not signs of distrust, but for clarity. As if he was making sure Shen Wenlang wasn't about to suddenly pull away and turn cold, that the little world of peace between them was an illusion waiting to crumble. That Shen Wenlang's intentions were somehow false.

His thumb brushed against Gao Tu’s lips, soft and warm under the pad as he committed the sensation to memory. Shen Wenlang had never truly noticed just how pretty they were, making a delicate heart shape almost. Gao Tu’s eyes subconsciously strayed to his lips as Shen Wenlang leaned forward.

At the same time, Gao Tu’s eyes fluttered shut. For a moment he really thought he was about to feel lips against his, with the feeling of no desire to pull away. Instead, he felt the gentle touch of Shen Wenlang’s lips against his cheek.

He was completely ensnared by the gentle contact where Wenlang’s lips lingered, warm against his skin. Their held hands grounding them there as he started to place gentle slow kisses along his cheek, breathing in the scent of sage. Each movement slow, careful.

Gao Tu’s free hand rested on Shen Wenlang’s forearm, eyes still closed and acutely aware of every touch and breath from the alpha, to steady himself. His mind felt like it was underwater, unable to hear the sounds on the surface while his senses strikingly aware of every sensation from Shen Wenlang's touch.

He felt the hand on his cheek drift slowly to his neck, fingertips dangerously close to the gland on the back of his neck, yet just out of reach as his thumb rested at the edge of his jaw. Instinctually Gao Tu tilted his head just a fraction. Barely noticeable as the feeling of Shen Wenlang’s breath made Gao Tu’s own breath shaky, right near Shen Wenlang’s ear.

Their interlocked hands rested against Shen Wenlang’s chest, his heartbeat and the heat of his skin through the fabric of his shirt was tangible. His nose grazed the base of Gao Tu’s ear.

“Gao Tu…will you let me love you..?”

Chapter Text

"Didn't you say you would help me get Gao Tu back? Tell me, what should I do?"

…

"Stick to him like glue." Hua Yong said as a matter-of-factly: "Ask him all the questions you asked me. Ask him what's wrong, whether he feels uncomfortable or unwell, what he thinks of you, and whether he likes you."

… Then, he became depressed and asked sullenly: "Hua Yong, how did you do it?"

"What?"

"How do you manage to be so thick-skinned?"

Due to gland damage and excessive blood loss, Hua Yong was captured by Shen Wenlang in the middle of the night to serve as a relationship consultant for 2 straight hours…

~~Ω~~

“Gao Tu…will you let me love you?”

Gao Tu’s breath stopped, the words like thunder in his ears, leaving him unable to speak. The hand in Shen Wenlang’s tightened ever so slightly. As if trying to ground himself. As if it would provide an answer his brain and lips couldn’t process enough to form.

“Please let me love you..” Shen Wenlang whispered.

Just as Gao Tu felt the brush of Shen Wenlang’s lips at the base of his ear, and could make his voice work, Gao Lele let out a scream. He jolted out of Shen Wenlang’s hold and rushed into the living room. The instinctual panic of hearing his child scream snapped him out of their little world. Shen Wenlang chased closely behind, alarmed at the sudden scream and Gao Tu hurtling into the other room.

“Papa!” Lele cried, his legs pulled up tightly to his chest and pointing to the floor, unable to get any other words out.

Two pairs of eyes followed where he pointed, revealing a spider. While not exactly the size of a tarantula, but to a child with a fear of spiders, it may as well have been. It’s long legs and bean body scuttling across the floor, enough to make ones hair stand up on end when unexpectedly spotted.

“I’ll get a glass.” Shen Wenlang headed back into the kitchen as Gao Tu went over and picked Lele up, pulling him close to his chest.

While the spider was being evicted, Gao Tu sat on the sofa with Lele in his lap, softly comforting him and wiping away the large tears that fell down the child’s face as he gently rocked side to side. Once the room was again spider-free, Shen Wenlang sat down next to them and gently patted Gao Lele’s hair, “It’s gone now, you don’t need to be scared anymore.”

Gao Lele sniffled but fresh tears fell, and his eyelashes glistened. Gao Tu pulled him to his chest again and lightly patted his back. Even with Lele clutching tightly to Gao Tu, Wenlang continued to console him from the sidelines and stroked his hair in a soft rhythm, “It can’t get back in, it’s gone now.” He said softly. His chest felt tight seeing the child crying.

Still rocking gently, Gao Tu glanced up and accidently met Shen Wenlang’s eyes. He coughed and turned his eyes back onto Lele, shy embarrassment finally sinking in.

Gao Tu couldn’t decide if his heart was pounding from the shock of the child’s scream or from the ghostly feeling of Shen Wenlang’s lips on his skin still lingering. What had transpired played through his mind, already on repeat. He kissed Lele’s temple lightly, keeping his physical attention on his baby, while his mental attention was scattered to the wind, and his emotional attention was torn in two directions.

Guiltily, Shen Wenlang was captivated. Seeing Gao Tu and their child together always brought a warmth to his heart. But seeing the gentle and warm reassurance that being a parent brought out in the omega. It was like something Shen Wenlang had longed for in his own life that he had lacked. And it made him want to hold onto Gao Tu even more every time until it was a borderline desire for possession.

His thoughts were cut abruptly short when the sound of his phone rang out from the dining table, startling all three people. Shen Wenlang’s expression soured and looked like he swallowed a bee. When he stood up to answer it, he already knew who it was going to be.

“What.”

“Bad timing?” Hua Yong’s tone was light and airy, an easy give away when Sheng Shaoyou was in the vicinity.

Shen Wenlang knew Hua Yong’s freaky Enigma abilities didn’t quite extend to psychic, but sometimes it certainly felt like it did.

“What do you think?” He snapped back, irritated.

His attention was instantly pulled away from the call when he noticed Gao Tu get up from the sofa. After calming down enough, Lele had buried his face into the omegas neck for comfort.

“I should get Lele home,” Gao Tu said, his tone quiet, both because of Lele and Wenlang being on a call. He carefully adjusted the child in his arms. “If he tires himself out now, he won’t be able to go sleep at bedtime.”

Ignoring Hua Yong, Shen Wenlang clumsily shoved the phone in his pocket and followed him to the door. His hand rested at the base of Gao Tu’s back as a sense of craving settled in his bones. He really didn’t want to let Gao Tu go just yet, but also was understanding of wanting to care for Lele.

“I’ll see you tomorrow?”

Gao Tu nodded and stepped towards the door as Shen Wenlang opened it. He watched as he paused at the entrance, internally debating something. He looked back at Shen Wenlang, his ears were tinted pink and his face flushed.

“Thank you for the dinner…and taking care of the cut…” He opened his mouth to say something else but clamped his lips tightly shut.

And with that, the rabbit stepped out and returned to his den.

Shen Wenlang leaned his body out the door, watching until Gao Tu and Lele was safely inside their own home. Only then did he head back inside and pull the phone out.

“This call best be damn important.” Shen Wenlang fumed.

~~Ω~~

The following days had been chaotic for Shen Wenlang. Being stuck in meeting after meeting had left him inexplicably irritated. The location for Novartis’ locations had been finalised and was well underway for the construction to start. He had built good working connections with the investors within the project, and he even had attended a business meal with the CEO of Novartis Technologies herself, an Omega name Chen Qingfei.

Shen Wenlang really wasn’t a fan of these meetings. Not even because of the CEO’s Omega status. Despite her delicate features and dainty appearance, she was sharp as a pin with a lack of subtleness that could almost rival Hua Yong, if she really wanted to give it a shot.

Outside of business talk, she certainly had no qualms bringing up Shen Wenlang’s marital status, comparing on how she was already married with two children. Then recalling his very open search for Gao Tu, and then, to top it off, she even had the audacity to poke at the “rumours” of suffering with Ophobia.

While he had managed to dodge the intensity of her questioning, it still made the alpha bristle at the feeling he was being interrogated, judged even. And worst of all, Shen Wenlang couldn’t even say he disliked the woman outright. Because not only was she certainly very knowledgeable in her field, but the early establishment of her company also had a very similar history to HS Group, making them feel like kindred spirits of a sort.

As a result of the busy schedule, the time with Gao Tu had been cut even shorter. And that was a whole different level of torture for Shen Wenlang. After the incident in the kitchen, there was a detectable difference in the air between the pair. A charged feeling that neither could, or would, quite address.

Shen Wenlang’s touches had become more forward yet still tinged with an edge of cautiousness. Fingers lingering longer than usual, faces closer than necessary, stolen glances. Even reaching a point where Gao Tu would no longer tense up or blush at the slightest of touches. Nothing that could add fuel to the already thick air, but enough to make Shen Wenlang want to hold on and not let go.

They never out right addressed what had occurred that day, but it was as if the door that had been previously tightly shut was now ajar, waiting for someone to step through instead of simply peeking in.

Glancing up from his phone, after being dropped off by his driver, Shen Wenlang noticed Gao Tu was stood outside. He held a cup in one hand and phone in the other while he seemed absorbed in something on the screen by the way his eyebrows were slightly creased in concentration.

Seeing the omega standing there alone in his own world brought back the memory of a recent phone call with Hua Yong.

~~Ω~~

“How is your mission of pursuing your wife going?” Hua Yong asked leisurely.

“Tch, mind your own business. Don’t you have more important things to think about.” Shen Wenlang grumbled. The phone was sandwiched between his ear and shoulder as he tapped away on his laptop. “You’re so invested in my private life that anyone would think you’re bored of your own.”

“Oh, I could never be bored of my happy life,” Hua Yong hummed, “I’ve never had any problems showing Mr. Sheng how much I love him, so how could I ever be bored?”

Shen Wenlang sulked in silence. Even after three years, the enigma still knew which spots were easiest to jab. Taking his silence as confirmation, Hua Yong continued, “Wenlang, you’re still no better than a teenager discovering love for the first time. It’s very cute, but it will only get you so far. Your problem is you either think too hard or not enough. Keep this up and you and Gao Tu will be grandparents before you so much as share a kiss, let alone a marital bed.”

“What do you suggest I do then!” he snapped, grabbing the phone and looking at it as if he could somehow reach through and strangle Hua Yong, “unlike Sheng Shaoyou who sulks, if I push Gao Tu too hard he’ll just run away again!”

Silence.

And then a snort.

Such a simple sound managed to rattle Shen Wenlang’s chains. His hand shook, embarrassed rage threatening to boil over to the point he wanted to throw his phone out the window. He couldn’t even find the words to shout.

“Wenlang,” Hua Yong’s tone remained light. But the touch of coldness that he carried, when not in the mood to be pleasant anymore, blanketed it, “I understand you have never learned the art of seduction, nor understood the concept of love. But you of all people should understand that important deals require a period of establishing ground to establish trust.”

“Unfortunately, because of your own thin-skin and thick skull, Gao Tu has had ten and three years to develop an independence that also requires a measure of guardedness. Not to mention your mouth runs before your brain can even take a step.”

Shen Wenlang pulled an annoyed face, but still felt at a loss, “That doesn’t help me.”

“Spend time together, just you and him, alone. Spending time as a family should be separate.” In the background, the sound of Huasheng and Sheng Shaoyou laughing as they played could be heard, and Hua Yong’s voice softened, “What you need to learn to understand, is the difference between being shameless, and being brave.”

~~Ω~~

Gao Tu's shoulder rested against the wall and faced his front door, making him unaware of the approaching body from behind.

It was only when he felt the feel of Shen Wenlang’s hand on his back did he realise he wasn't alone anymore.

“Where’s Lele?”

Gao Tu glanced up from his phone and turned to face Wenlang. The crease between his brow relaxed, “Song Feifei and Ma Heng have took him to see Feifei’s grandmother. I had some work to finish for tomorrow morning.”

“Ah,” Shen Wenlang nodded once. His brain started churning wildly, “Do you want to come round?”

New territory. Establishing ground. Trust. Shen Wenlang tried to keep his thoughts in check, but kept circling back to what Hua Yong had said.

‘The difference between being shameless and being brave.’

He felt relief when Gao Tu nodded and motioned for him to come in first, presumably to put his cup away, “Why were you stood outside?”

“Ah, just some fresh air.” It didn’t sound very convincing, but Shen Wenlang didn’t press.

In truth, Gao Tu had been waiting outside for Shen Wenlang’s return. When Song Feifei had proposed visiting her grandmother, he had also been included in the invite. The image of Shen Wenlang had flashed in his mind and before he realised it, he had declined and said Lele should go with them for the fresh air.

He placed the cup in the sink and turned to Shen Wenlang, who was once again looking at the pictures. Gao Tu had caught him on more than one occasion glancing over to them when he came round. And it always left a pit of conflicting emotions in Gao Tu’s stomach. After that night in the kitchen, that pit had only grown.

In truth, spending this much time in close proximity had brought up a lot of old feelings for the omega. And it unbalanced him.

Song Feifei had said there was no need to expect anything from having contact with Shen Wenlang, and indeed he certainly had proven thus far he was not only no threat to Lele and had even showed a genuine love and care for their child, but he also hadn’t been able to let Gao Tu go in the last three years.

While he chewed over his thoughts, he didn’t notice when Shen Wenlang came over to him, until he felt the weight of a hand placed on his shoulder, “Gao Tu, what’s on your mind?”

The omega smiled softly and shook his head, a gentle dismissal that it wasn’t anything to worry about, “Have you eaten yet?”

“Usual fine dining portion.” A grim but playful smile danced on Shen Wenlang’s lips, “tastes good but not enough to fill your stomach.”

Gao Tu smiled helplessly as they made their way out the door and towards Shen Wenlang’s home.

“We could order delivery. I haven’t eaten yet. There was a transcript that needed translating for tomorrow morning and I wanted to get it finished first.”

Shen Wenlang let them in and nodded towards the coffee table as he made his way to the bedroom, “order whatever you like. I’m going to shower and get changed.”

The room settled into a pleasant silence with only the sound of the shower being turned on. Gao Tu flicked through options for delivery and settled on one that wouldn’t take too long to arrive or cost too much. Once that was settled, he perched himself on the sofa and waited for Shen Wenlang.

His thoughts drifted back to Shen Wenlang’s words. A soft warmth clawed its way through his worries and anxieties every time, settling deep in his heart.

Of course, in the past he had fantasised hearing such words of love. But now it was like they were etched deep into his mind, unable to let him believe it was an illusion, a misheard statement.

He had asked him to let him be loved. For permission.

‘I don’t like children. But ours I will love unconditionally.’

He didn’t like omegas…but he wanted to love Gao Tu. Would he also love him unconditionally?

His greatest anxiety and fear, the very thing that put Gao Tu on the path of choosing to silently leave with Lele growing quietly inside him, was Lele being discovered and hated. Despite this fear and Shen Wenlang’s words back then, Wenlang had not only said, but showed, his love for their child.

And yet, the quiet love he had accepted would never see the light of day, the love he had left deep in his past, had started to try and peek up through the mud. And it was Shen Wenlang himself who was asking to pluck the bloom and cherish it. To love it as much as he had shown to love a child he had unknowingly, ruthlessly, and thoughtlessly outright said he didn’t want.

Maybe, just maybe, Shen Wenlang could love him as much as he did Lele. If he gave him the permission to do so.

Gao Tu glanced down at the folded hands on his lap and couldn’t stop his lips forming a tender smile.

After a while, Shen Wenlang emerged wearing casual clothes. His hair was still damp and his scent of Iris muted slightly from the scent of the shower products. Gao Tu’s eyes followed him as he went into the kitchen, retrieving two bottles of beer. He couldn’t help but eye it suspiciously when Shen Wenlang sat down on the sofa and started to open them.

In the past, Gao Tu had shared the occasional drink with Shen Wenlang, but seldom was it ever in such an informal setting and with beer, even when at school. Not to mention the last time Gao Tu saw Shen Wenlang drink, was that fateful night at X Hotel.

Shen Wenlang noticed the odd look on the others face and held up a bottle as an offering. “Sometimes needed after a long day of work.”

He hesitantly nodded and took the bottle with both hands respectfully, clinking the mouth of the bottle with Wenlang’s before taking a sip. Gao Tu remembered the few occasions he would attend gatherings with other colleagues after a long day, days when he wasn’t working overtime. There was an easy feeling about being able to put work behind for the day and enjoy the food and company.

Shen Wenlang took a drink from his bottle, his curiosity flaring up, “does Lele stay out without you often?”

“Sometimes, though too long without me and he hates it.” Gao Tu nodded, “the longest was over a week when…”

His words trailed off, unsure if to reveal that it was a time when his health had taken a sudden severe drop and ended up as an in-patient at the hospital.

When he saw Hua Yong, Shen Wenlang's lips moved slightly, as if he wanted to say something but hesitated.

These days, he made many private calls to Hua Yong, asking him for advice on how to win back the heart of his subordinate who had resigned.

Chapter Text

Shen Wenlang had a lot of money to guarantee his life. As long as Gao Tu was willing, he could even give in and raise the child he and that damn Omega created together.

Although Shen Wenlang didn't like children, if the child looked like Gao Tu, he should be able to accept it.

The days without seeing Gao Tu were unbearable.

Shen Wenlang's life became a mess because he lacked the most basic sense of security.

~~Ω~~

For the most part, Gao Tu’s pheromone dysregulation had settled. But after years of using suppressants, right from the day he presented and was still growing, the doctor’s had been very clear that his condition would take time to recover. Gao Tu was lucky that he was at a point where he’d mostly suffer from days where his body would stutter and lag. The doctors had predicted he wouldn’t reach this stage for another five years, and that was being optimistic.

But that particular episode had been brutal. After having Lele, he had resolutely decided to never use pheromone suppressants unless absolutely necessary and at most would be a patch, in order to let his body recover. Fearful he might really end up killing himself and leaving Gao Lele behind as an orphan. He was finally following the doctor’s orders.

That fateful day had started out fine. Gao Tu, Lele and Song Feifei were out shopping for a birthday gift for Ma Heng when it happened out the blue.

Gao Tu’s body felt like gravity was trying to pull his limbs down and his head felt like it was stuffed with cotton. Until it didn’t. And it was instead replaced, as swift as a slap, with a splitting headache that buckled his legs and made him drop like a stone to the floor. The scent of Sage filled the isle like a storm as he blacked out. When he finally woke up, he was in the hospital hooked up to multiple drips and an oxygen mask on. His gland humming with a sore feeling similar to that of a fresh sunburn.

Four days had already passed.

The medical staff had allowed Song Feifei to stay with Lele in the hospital room the entire time, day and night, only because Gao Lele was so terrified to leave Gao Tu’s side. Gao Lele had absolutely screamed the place down in panic until the doctor’s gave in, sympathetic after learning Gao Tu was Lele’s sole parent.

It was only after seeing his papa’s eyes open, and being hugged tightly and reassured, that he was eventually coaxed to go home with Song Feifei and Ma Heng without him for the week with the strict promise to visit every day.

Gao Tu glanced back at Shen Wenlang, conflicted. The other looked back to him, mixture of confusion and expectancy. He bit his lip and looked back down at his drink.

“When…there was a small medical emergency…” He mumbled. Shen Wenlang opened his mouth, but Gao Tu spoke quicker, “Nothing major. Just a small complication with the pheromone dysfunction.”

Shen Wenlang’s brows scrunched with concern. During his search for Gao Tu, he had discovered he suffered with pheromone dysfunction complications, but he hadn’t expected them to carry on even now to the point of being hospitalised.

An ugly question that had plagued his mind more than once, rose up. A question he dreaded to think what the answer to was, but needed to know, “Gao Tu…How long had you been using suppressants?”

“Since I differentiated,” he admitted openly, much to Shen Wenlang’s surprise, “the very same day, actually. Although, I did differentiate later than usual…late bloomer.”

“Wait,” Shen Wenlang leaned forward, elbows on his knees as he tried to process this new piece of information, and looked at Gao Tu, “You were taking suppressants for that long? You pretended to be a Beta for all that time? Gao Tu, surely you knew how dangerous that was?”

Gao Tu nodded, not at the least bit phased by this. Talks of taking suppressants out of survival felt a lot easier than talks of suppressants because of love. Just like talking about stopping taking suppressants because of Lele was easier than talking about the struggle of feeling so exposed without them.

There was a knock at the door and Gao Tu stood up, silently volunteering to receive the food, and give the subject a brief pause. Shen Wenlang sat there in a state of shock, feeling his worldview on their past had somehow shifted.

He had dreaded that Gao Tu had been taking suppressants only because of him somehow. And while it was glaringly obvious that he himself had contributed to Gao Tu hiding his omega status, because of Shen Wenlang’s…aversion, it had never occurred to him just how long he could have possibly been taking the suppressants before they were at school together.

After accepting the food, Gao Tu headed over to the dining table and started to unpack the dishes. Meanwhile Shen Wenlang pulled himself up from the sofa and proceeded to help by fetching some bowls from the kitchen.

The trays of different dishes were laid out, their smell filling the air and igniting a mouthwatering hunger for a filling meal that a busy day had neglected. As Gao Tu handed over a pair of disposable chopsticks, he continued to talk.

“I started with just the inhalers; I wasn’t old enough for injections. Inhaler’s can be quite discreet,” Gao Tu sat down, he almost looked sheepish, “it’s easy to explain an inhaler away as asthma.”

Shen Wenlang nodded wordlessly. He recalled how often Gao Tu would be seen using his inhaler, even before working together, and would always say it was his asthma.

“I began using patches when school started…”

As they ate, Gao Tu told him everything. From how the suppressants would start to fail, along with his body, and he had continued to push and abuse them. The worst of it after resigning, and the decision to stop using them. Even briefly talking about his mother’s fear because of his father, not that there was much need to elaborate. Given Shen Wenlang’s distasteful contact with him, putting it lightly, he tried to rein in the streak of rage that still would bubble up when thinking about Gao Ming.

But Shen Wenlang listened intently, soaking every word in and stored them deep in his mind, not wanting to miss or forget a single thing. He watched as Gao Tu started busying himself with collecting the trash and putting it into the bag it came in.

“And now…?” He finally asked hesitantly, “you said you don’t use suppressants, but…”

Gao Tu glanced over to Shen Wenlang as he tied the handles together, “I’m okay,” he reassured, “recovery can take time. But I am okay.”

He sat back down and stretched his arms out in front of himself with a long breath out, feeling an odd sense of a weight lifted from his chest. Gao Tu had never thought there would be a time in his life when he would be given the chance to fully explain these things to Shen Wenlang. He had endured thoughtlessly cruel and angry words in the past, that was nothing new, but never could he cope with being pushed away or rejected.

The guilt that their ten years of friendship was built on a foundation of sand had plagued his mind the entire time, making his feelings complicated. But at least he had the chance to be completely honest about his history. He glanced over to the alpha, who had leaned back into the sofa.

Wenlang analysed Gao Tu while processing the information. His free hand reached out and gently took hold of Gao Tu’s. There was a trace of anxious doubt in his eyes, “promise me, are you okay?”

Gao Tu blinked, and his expression softened, almost helplessly so. He nodded and squeezed Shen Wenlang’s hand to try and soothe the worry in his voice, familiar with this string of conversation from Gao Qing, “I promise. There are just some days where I get more tired than usual, or just feel a bit unwell. But I’m doing well.”

He stared intently at Gao Tu, looking for any sign he may have been downplaying the seriousness, or outright lying. Only satisfied when the others expression remained the same. “Okay.”

Giving his hand another gentle squeeze, Gao Tu got up and took the delivery bag into the kitchen before returning and slumping back into the sofa, feeling sufficiently full. Shen Wenlang grabbed his bottle and laid back again as well, letting out a long breath.

They stayed silent for a while, both content in the silence and each other’s company, processing this new facet of understanding. But a nagging feeling crept up Wenlang’s spine. Gao Tu had been open about his history. But the root of what led them to this point, was himself. It had taken three years to reconcile with this particular fact. That Gao Tu had ran away because of Shen Wenlang’s own history bleeding out from the wound in his heart and covering everything in its path. That if Shen Wenlang didn’t hold deep rooted hatred out of stubbornness; then maybe, just maybe, Gao Tu would have, at some point, felt he could trust the alpha with this secret of survival.

It wasn’t an excuse, or even a justification. Gao Tu was willing to disappear like a ghost from his life to protect their child. He was willing to poison his body, and never reveal the truth. Gao Tu had every right to see the ugly history that had caused him so much pain because of Wenlang. And the guilt he had felt before, felt as if it had successfully chewed through his flesh and was finally at his bones.

His stomach churned. He really hadn’t been good enough to Gao Tu.

He fiddled with the bottle in his hands, eyes not ready to face the other just yet as he exposed one of the most vulnerable dimensions of his life.

“My parents…are complicated,” he squeezed out, “Growing up seeing your omega father, so desperate for a shred of attention from a husband who didn’t love him. Manipulating and scheming…even just for an ounce of love…for a child…so desperate to the point you’d kill another omega out of jealousy…only to end up dead in a cell without even so much as a body left…”

Shen Wenlang glanced at Gao Tu for a brief moment, then looked back down, “It…leaves an impression.”

Gao Tu’s brows furrowed as he listened, confused. Wasn’t it Shen Wenlang’s omega father who had helped them leave Jianghu? He tried to process what Shen Wenlang had said but was left with even more questions.

“Only to find years later, that you were very misinformed about the past and have no clue what the hell their deal is, even now.” He breathed out a cynical laugh, bitter, and looked back down again, “Years of being angry at a person who you thought was dead.”

“So…you hated omegas because of your omega father?” Gao Tu said, his words careful but still full of confusion.

“Mn.” He admitted, leaning over and placing the bottle on the table.

As Shen Wenlang leaned back, he wrapped his arms around Gao Tu and pulled him close. Burying his eyes in his shoulder blade. Guilt and shame nagged at his insides.

Gao Tu didn’t resist, and let himself be pulled in. Not quite sure what to make of the sudden intimate closeness. Had he drank too much? But the scent of alcohol didn’t cling to him, and they had only had one bottle of beer each, after all. He didn’t resist, but was perplexed at the sudden action.

Before he had a chance to even process it properly, he let out a soft surprised grunt when Shen Wenlang unexpectedly laid back, and pulled him down with him.

“Sh-Shen Wenlang…!” Gao Tu’s tone wasn’t harsh, more like someone about to be caught doing something they shouldn’t. He made to try and straighten up, but Shen Wenlang’s arms around him tightened slightly. Needy almost.

“Bear with me…” he mumbled, stilling Gao Tu. His face still hidden, “I just want to be like this with you for a while…”

He buried his face into the crook of Gao Tu’s neck, and the poor omega couldn’t help but contemplate just how similar father and son really were when seeking comfort.

Gao Tu would have sworn up and down that Shen Wenlang not only had an omega aversion, but an overall touch aversion in the years he had known him. And yet, over the course of just over a month, that very image that Gao Tu was so familiar with, had accepted and endured for so many years; was far more complicated than he realised. He was starting to think it was quite the opposite to touch aversion.

Shen Wenlang was incredibly touch starved.

Hesitantly, his hand reached up and hovered for a moment, before finally resting on Shen Wenlang’s forearm and patted it gently. He felt how Shen Wenlang’s body relaxed, a tension neither realised was truly there, and they stayed in this position for what felt like hours. Shen Wenlang held onto Gao Tu while Gao Tu stroked his arm with this thumb comfortingly. The silence, replaced by the echoing loudness of soft breathing and heartbeats. Shen Wenlang didn’t make any other rash moves or try anything that could potentially make the bunny shoot out of his grasp for a second time. He simply relished in the comfortable weight of the omega’s back against his chest and the warm but fresh scent of sage like a balm for his nerves.

Gao Tu felt Shen Wenlang breathing his scent in, so close to his gland. A mixture of warmth and unease battled with each other. The guilty feeling of enjoying the feel of Wenlang being so close, and the ease of how much someone, who proclaimed to the world he hated omega’s, because of his own omega father, was currently clinging to him, drowning himself in his scent.

He was about to spiral from the internal back and forth with himself when Shen Wenlang confessed, his voice mumbled from being buried in Gao Tu’s neck.

“I never hated your scent, I just never knew it was yours.”

~~Ω~~

Gao Tu’s were still closed when he started to slowly started to wake up, his body feeling heavy with sleep. The first thing he noticed was the feeling that he wasn’t on a sofa laying with Shen Wenlang.

Instead, he was in a bed, the scent of Iris’s wrapped around him as equally tangible as the source of the scent’s chest glued to his back. This revelation was like someone opening up the curtains on a bright sunny morning and his eyes instantly snapped open. He, Gao Tu, was currently laying in bed, with Shen Wenlang.

He didn’t dare move, his mind trying to recall how they had ended up on the bed in the first place. He vaguely recollected the fragmented sleep glazed memories.

Both, at some point had drifted off, the quiet silence between them having rocked them to sleep. Shen Wenlang had shifted on the sofa, pulling Gao Tu with him, still refusing to let him go even while dreaming. It nudged Gao Tu out of sleep just enough to mumble and attempt to sluggishly remove Shen Wenlang’s arms, “Home…to go… to bed…”

Shen Wenlang nuzzled Gao Tu’s hair, still under the spell of sleep, “mn..”

He couldn’t figure out who had moved first. But Gao Tu was able to faintly recall through the haze that they eventually got up. Wenlang had sleepily said something about it being very late and somehow resulted in holding his hand and being led to the bedroom like a child. Gao Tu didn’t even attempt to protest. He was still too asleep to not realise he hadn’t left the house at all, when Shen Wenlang guided him down onto the bed and pulled the blanket over them both.

He faintly remembered how he buried his face in the pillow and inhaled the familiar alpha scent, feeling Shen Wenlang’s arm wrap around his waist and pull him close. Shen Wenlang had mumbled something, but Gao Tu was already back asleep before his brain could even register it.

Gao Tu laid quietly. The feeling of sleeping in his daily clothes was not comfortable, but the very real feeling of the warmth from Shen Wenlang being glued to his back kept him somehow grounded and even felt comforting.

He needed to get home before the alpha and omega returned with Gao Lele.

Fortunately, one benefit of going to sleep without changing clothes; both men had the corporate habit of wearing watches. Carefully, Gao Tu lifted his wrist and squinted at the watch. Thankfully, it was still early.

He thought he might be able to slip out quietly unnoticed as he gently took Shen Wenlang’s arm. With the care and consideration of moving a very valuable item, he started to lift it.

When he thought he would be successful at putting it back on Shen Wenlang’s hip, and freeing himself from the embrace, Gao Tu’s hand was caught. Interlocked fingers pulled against his chest and the feeling of being nuzzled suddenly occupied his attention. He froze.

“Alarm is always set at seven,” Shen Wenlang murmured, his plead was soft and sleepy as he said, “don’t leave me…not yet...”

Hearing Shen Wenlang asking him not to leave, even under the weight of sleepiness in his voice, the soft tone of pleading that Gao Tu seldom heard from Shen Wenlang, creeped through. And he found he didn’t have the heart to flee.

Silently, Gao Tu nodded once, feeling Shen Wenlang’s thumb start to gently rub against his hand. Something in the rhythm of it, the feel of being embraced so wholly, and the mix of scents and body heat, eventually lulled Gao Tu back to sleep with such ease that he didn’t even realise his eyes fluttered shut.

What really made Gao Tu decide to leave was Shen Wenlang's reckless treatment of an unexpected little life.

Gao Tu could accept that his love would never be made public, but he could not bear the thought of an unborn child baring the heavy hatred of his father.

No matter how painful it is, or how reluctant you are.

At this time, hesitation is a sin.

For the innocent little thing in his belly, Gao Tu had to leave, he had no choice.

Chapter Text

Shen Wenlang hid at the entrance of the company several times, waiting to pretend to run into Gao Tu, but failed every time. The experience of repeated failures made the S-level Alpha, who rarely tasted defeat, furious and angry.

Just let him vomit. He likes to stubbornly refuse to see a doctor and likes to avoid Shen Wenlang. So let him vomit! Even if he dies of the disease, that’s it!

Having said that, Shen Wenlang couldn't help but "happen" to go to the public restroom and "accidentally" run into Gao Tu.

~~Ω~~

The smell of garlic and oil filled the kitchen while Gao Tu was stood in front of the sink preparing some vegetables. Next to him stood Song Feifei, while Ma Heng was in the living room drawing with Gao Lele.

While his hands worked meticulously, his mind was elsewhere.

The following morning, after finding himself in his former boss, father of their child and current neighbour’s bed. Gao Tu had been surprised by the ease and even odd sense of normality that came with waking up next to Shen Wenlang.

Of course he felt an element of bashfulness. Gao Tu still had his pride, and having willingly climbed into someone else’s bed while still half-asleep; He felt he was no better than little Gao Lele when he used to sneak into his room to sleep with him!

The alarm had indeed sounded as Shen Wenlang had said, but he reached over, turned it off and pulled Gao Tu closer for a moment. He nuzzled him before whispering softly that it was time to wake up. He still wasn’t sure if he had felt Shen Wenlang press his lips to his shoulder, or it was a sleep addled illusion, but he felt how the other gave him one last squeeze before getting up.

Gao Tu laid there quietly for a moment. After his mind cleared away the haze of sleep and worked up the courage to emerge from the bedroom, Gao Tu discovered Shen Wenlang had made him a cup of tea and placed a plate of prepared fruit on the table.

Shen Wenlang didn’t point out the fact Gao Tu had slept in his bed, nor how they had spent the entire night embracing. But he wasn’t cold or dismissive. If anything, there was an air of peace to him that had rounded off the spiky edges of the alpha, like a puzzle piece that didn’t fit had finally found the right space.

It was Song Feifei’s nudging that brought Gao Tu back to the present. He looked over to her, not hearing what she had asked him.

“I said, are we cooking for four or five?” She nodded down to the vegetables. Definitely more than enough to feed an extra person. Her expression morphed into sly excitement, “are we expecting a visitor for dinner today?”

Gao Tu cleared his throat, ears tinting slightly, “Shen Wenlang mentioned he was going to be working late… He can be very picky with food places that deliver, so I thought…”

“You thought it would be nice to make him a meal for when he comes home,” Song Feifei finished, her expression brightening even more and her tone turning insinuating, “Very thoughtful.”

“It’s not like that,” he fidgeted. He looked back down at the finger that had been previously tended to. It no longer was covered, and all that was left was a faint scar, thinking back to that incident.

Song Feifei followed his line of sight and her expression softened. Gao Tu hadn’t shared all the details of the interactions between the pair of them, but he had given enough details for her to piece together a general image. Not to mention, the subtle changes within Gao Tu as a whole as well.

“It’s okay you know,” Song Feifei said. Gao Tu looked back up at her, “It’s okay to love. As long as that love is returned.”

He flushed and forced his eyes back onto the vegetables, feebly mumbling, “you’re overthinking it…”

With a soft snort, Song Feifei rested her elbow on the counter and her chin on her hand, rocking her hips as she analysed Gao Tu, “I don’t think I am.”

She glanced towards the living room where Ma Heng and Gao Lele were, her voice soft, “Ma Heng won’t hate you if you do, you know. He just wants to make sure you and Lele are safe. He won’t say it because he doesn’t want you to worry or feel pressured. But he wants you to be happy. And if that happiness is with Shen Wenlang, and is true happiness, then he’ll learn to accept him.”

Gao Tu’s shoulders relaxed a fraction. Honestly, it had weighed on his mind the broader impact of having Shen Wenlang entangled in his life, regardless of the emotional aspects. Gao Lele’s upcoming birthday heightening it. Ma Heng and Song Feifei were as close as family to him, and the last thing he would want is to potentially fracture that all because of old feelings resurfacing and Shen Wenlang’s presence, and proximity. Especially Ma Heng, who had given up so much to be there for him and protect him.

“I could never repay Ma Heng for what he’s done for me…for Lele…” He whispered softly.

“And he doesn’t want you to. Gao Tu, have you still not learned that people who care, don’t think of their kindness as a transaction?” She said, feeling a little helpless at this bunny who felt he owed so much.

Gao Tu looked down, feeling ashamed. He knew Ma Heng would never think of it in such a way, but Gao Tu’s deep sense of gratitude would always raise its ugly head and tell himself that what was given, must be repaid.

She looked between Gao Tu and the pair in the living room, an idea sparking, “How about this. Introduce me to Shen Wenlang formally.”

If Gao Tu’s head could snap round any quicker, it would have broken his neck. “Introduce you?”

Song Feifei nodded, as if it was the most logical thing in the world as she lifted her hand and started listing off reasons, “If you introduce me, think of it as the first step to introducing him to your family. That way you don’t have to feel so awkward about it, Shen Wenlang will see you’re not someone who can be bullied anymore, and we can really see how he responds to a little external contact.”

Gao Tu looked at her, feelings mixed but more than anything, he felt doubtful, “I don’t know if he would even be interested. Shen Wenlang…isn’t casually social.”

“Ah,” Feifei lifted a finger to stop him, “You’re forgetting the biggest key detail here.” And pointed directly at him, “You.”

“Me?” Gao Tu raised an eyebrow, not quite sure what Song Feifei’s angle was. Did she really think he had the ability to make Shen Wenlang want to engage with the very people who he had essentially been on the run with? Not likely.

“Yes, you.” She nodded matter-of-factly. “If things are progressing how they appear, then he is inevitably going to be at least curious. Not to mention, he must at least be smart enough to know if he wants to truly earn your trust, he’s got to earn at least some form of approval from us.”

Gao Tu let go of the vegetable in his hand and turned to Song Feifei, still not fully convinced, “And if he refuses?”

“Simple,” Song Feifei’s eyes brightened, a cunning smile on her face, “If he won’t come here, then I’ll simply ambush him myself.”

“Feifei!” Gao Tu looked slightly mortified, “Y-you wouldn’t.”

“Oh?” She turned and spoke as she took a step to the door, “Watch me.”

Despite logically knowing Shen Wenlang wasn’t at home, he reached out and grabbed her wrist, pulling her back into the kitchen, “okay okay okay I believe you, don’t go running off and doing reckless things.”

Song Feifei grinned at him and patted his hand, returning to her station near the sink. “Besides, think of it as a test of sorts. He has hated omegas for years, right? But he doesn’t have a problem with you though, right?”

Gao Tu nodded slowly. He hadn’t disclosed Shen Wenlang’s past, for the sake of privacy. Regardless, Song Feifei’s grin widened.

“’Love the house and its crow.*’”

~~Ω~~

It was already dark when Shen Wenlang finally got home. Gao Tu had left a note on his door to let him know when he had arrived, which he happily did without any thought.

After a long day, all Shen Wenlang wanted was to see Gao Tu’s face. Showers and sleep would wait for later. Tomorrow was a day he had that was completely business free except needing to speak to Hua Yong.

Currently, there was a deep sense of longing that had rested in his stomach for most of the day, finding his mind wandering back to how much he wanted to feel Gao Tu in his arms again. Gao Tu wasn’t a lithe omega, on the contrary, he was sturdy. And yet still felt so breakable, like handling a quail’s egg. Built to handle pressure and yet one wrong move, could be crushed.

It had been only three days. Three day’s he hadn’t had the chance to spend more time with Gao Tu beyond going to the local park with Lele after school or Gao Tu coming over for a drink while Song Feifei and Ma Heng prepared dinner. He knew he should feel bad about stealing Gao Tu’s attention and time away from the two; but he couldn’t quite muster up the guilt.

After the first sleep incident, Shen Wenlang was practically stuck to Gao Tu like glue, savouring every tiny touch that he could snatch. Neither questioned what had happened that day, but neither had shut it down either. Even spending more nights cuddled together quietly. Reassuring Shen Wenlang’s uneasiness that Gao Tu would never step foot through his door again.

His sleep since that night had also been awful whenever he wasn't with Gao Tu. He just couldn’t quite get comfortable, to the point it induced an irritation in himself, and just increased the need to stick to Gao Tu even more.

When Gao Tu opened the door, he was dressed in comfortable loungewear, a sight Shen Wenlang rarely had the chance to see, while Lele was in his arms falling asleep. He stepped aside to let Shen Wenlang in and signalled for him to wait while he had put Lele to bed.

Shen Wenlang silently followed like a shadow as he watched Gao Tu hold the small child with one arm to pull the cover back and gently lay him down on the mattress. Gao Lele sleepily protested, wanting to snuggle for a little longer. He was only placated when Gao Tu brushed his hair out his face and coaxed him to settle down, carefully tucking the blanket up around him and stroking his hair one more time, wishing him goodnight.

The alpha watched, completely absorbed in the scene. That sense of longing becoming deeper, and more aching, in Shen Wenlang’s heart. He waited as patiently as he could, he watched Gao Tu close the door carefully and looked at Shen Wenlang, voice hushed, “Lele was playing with Feifei earlier and overtired himself.”

Shen Wenlang nodded, understanding. He was about to reach out to Gao Tu but awkwardly missed the chance as the omega brushed past him and headed to the kitchen. So instead, he followed again, like tied to the end of a piece of string and being pulled along.

He watched as Gao Tu began unwrapping a couple of dishes, blissfully unaware of Wenlang’s approach.

“I wasn’t sure how hungry you’d be so…”

He was abruptly cut off by the feeling of Shen Wenlang wrapping his arms around him, resting his chin on Gao Tu’s shoulder, “I’m not hungry.”

The weight of Shen Wenlang was a mix of appealing and comforting. After the revelation of Shen Wenlang’s touch starvation and his history; Gao Tu had found such gesture’s less unbalancing and rather endearing upon reflection.

He discovered a sense of solace in the fact Shen Wenlang reached out for him. The fear of being rejected, the fear of warmth suddenly turning cold, dissolved like sugar paper in water as time went on, and the more Gao Tu had ruminated on his thoughts and feelings.

His pride still held some restraint of course; he had some dignity and had endured a quiet love for over ten years. He wasn’t about to just cave in at the drop of a hat simply because the one thing he had dangerously dreamed about, had really started to become a reality.

Gao Tu tilted his chin towards Shen Wenlang, refusing to let himself lean into his chest, “You should eat.”

Besides, he needed to bring up the subject of meeting Feifei. He had a mission, and food was a good starting point. Food was always a good peace offering when asking something of someone.

Shen Wenlang tilted his face, chin replaced with his cheek and looked at Gao Tu, “I just want to hold you for a bit.”

Gao Tu let out a soft sigh through his nose, but the small smile on his lips gave him away that he wasn’t truly exacerbated by the alpha, “You need to eat.”

“I need to hold you more,” Shen Wenlang once again buried his face in Gao Tu’s neck and inhaled the scent of Sage that he had been severely deprived of in the last few days, “I can eat tomorrow.”

Gao Tu continued to prepare the pre-cooked dishes for him, letting Shen Wenlang continue what he was doing. Which was currently clinging to him.

He had learned Song Feifei and Ma Heng generally would go to bed earlier than Gao Tu, making it easier to not run into them during late hours after dinner. He still disliked the scent of another alpha around, and he wilfully ignored it when he was here. But all he wanted to smell was Sage, no apricot, no vanilla. Just pure uncontaminated Sage.

With this train of thought in mind, he inhaled again. His fingers absentmindedly rubbed circles over the fabric of the shirt covering Gao Tu’s waist and stomach.

If he had been Lele’s age, Gao Tu was sure Shen Wenlang would have attached himself to his back like a schoolbag, legs and all. His hands paused when Wenlang said softly near his ear, “Will you stay round tonight?”

Pride and dignity; They became very malleable things when Shen Wenlang started to coax him to the point of pleading. Of course, Gao Tu hadn’t caved in straight away, but he eventually conceded, a little shyly.

It’s hard to harden your heart when the person who has the ability to soften it says, “I want you by my side. I want to keep holding you. I don’t want to let you go just yet.”

But sleepily climbing into one’s bed was one thing. Doing so with full clarity was another. There was no way to justify or argue the reasoning or logic as to the why, and how, under the crushing reality that was sharp and unmistakable lucidity.

Admitting defeat that Shen Wenlang was indeed not going to eat, Gao Tu bartered that he would stay only under the condition that Shen Wenlang would eat it tomorrow. Under this agreement, Gao Tu found himself currently, once again, laying in Shen Wenlang’s bed.

The scent of Shen Wenlang was once again a mixture of iris and fresh soap as it filled the room, having taken a shower while Gao Tu had carefully stored the uneaten food in the fridge and fumbled around the alphas house to ease his buzzed nerves. On the surface he seemed perfectly neutral, but inside he was pure chaos. He still needed to ask Shen Wenlang about Feifei.

It was only when he had laid on the bed, curled up and trying not to overthink about asking him about meeting the other omega that Gao Tu realised how much he really hoped Shen Wenlang would indeed say yes.

He felt the weight of the bed shift as Wenlang climbed in and pulled the blanket up. He felt how he adjusted his position, and an arm snaked around his waist, pulled them together chest to back, nuzzling him and breathing in his scent.

Neither spoke in the dimly lit room for a time, both highly aware of this little space and the feel of each other being so close. Shen Wenlang revelled in having Gao Tu so close to the point his heart was practically singing. Gao Tu on the other hand was locked in a battle of shyly enjoying the contact while working up the courage to ask Shen Wenlang the question.

He really should have used this as the bartering tool in being asked to sleep over.

“You can relax,” Shen Wenlang said softly, his breath tickling the back of Gao Tu’s neck and his arm tightening around his waist. Keeping him glued to his chest, he had mistaken the slight tenseness in Gao Tu’s shoulders as being on guard that he was going to try something lewd after he had been so clingy before coming round, “We won’t do anything other than this.”

Gao Tu let out a strangled choke, his face bursting into flames with a bright red blush. While such a thought had mercilessly, and shamefully, crossed his mind briefly; to have Shen Wenlang call it out, was a new level of embarrassing! Ah, Shen Stickylang! That wasn’t Gao Tu’s current pressing matter! Such words in the right frame of mind would have eased him and even find the reassurance heartwarming. Now it just made him mortifyingly embarrassed!

“T-that’s not it…” Gao Tu mumbled out, he wanted to hide his face in the pillow despite Shen Wenlang being unable to see his face anyway, “There’s something I need to ask you…”

Shen Wenlang’s eyes opened, and he stared at the shoulder in his line of view. “What is it?”

Gao Tu glanced down, trying to ground himself by looking at the others arm. When had Gao Tu’s hand rested on top of it? He wasn’t sure, but it gave him some grounding comfort.

“Song Feifei wants to meet you…Introduce you both properly…” he mumbled out.

The silence only made the anxiety in Gao Tu start to bubble up and threaten to boil over, his mind going into overdrive. He felt as Shen Wenlang shifted, resting his weight on his free arm to be able to look over Gao Tu’s shoulder and look at him properly. Gao Tu clenched his eyes shut, waiting for the inevitable rejection to such an idea.

“She wants to meet me?” His voice had no trace of anger. If anything, maybe the little hopeful side of Gao Tu, there was a trace of excitement.

Eyes still closed, Gao Tu nodded. He didn’t see the tenderness on Shen Wenlang’s face, nor the small smile as he leaned down and pressed a kiss to Gao Tu’s temple. The omega flinched at the sudden sensation, but he didn’t pull away. The hand that rested near Shen Wenlang’s wrist tightened just minutely, seeking an answer but too scared to say anything to get one. His heart and body only able to settle when Shen Wenlang finally replied.

“Arrange a time most suitable for you, and I’ll be there.”

The Omega Song Feifei, who had just received her marriage certificate with Ma Heng, was a sucker for good looks. She stared at Shen Wenlang on the screen for a long time and sighed sincerely: "The boss of HS Group is so good-looking."

Ma Heng immediately turned his head to look at Gao Tu's face, his worry was palpable.

 But Gao Tu looked normal and calm. He smiled and nodded, saying, "Yes."

"You also like this look, don't you!" Song Feifei's eyes lit up, she grabbed Gao Tu's arm and said, "What's more! The first time I saw him, I thought he looks very kind! I always felt that he was kind-hearted. It feels strangely familiar, as if I’ve seen him somewhere before.”

Chapter Text

Thinking about the strong scent that always clung to Gao Tu made Shen Wenlang feel suffocated. To what extent did an intimate exchange have to go for that omega to leave such a strong smell on Gao Tu? Who would’ve thought that Gao Tu, who seemed so honest, was quite impressive in bed!

No, no, wait- why does he care whether Gao Tu is good in bed or not!

Damn it! I must have been infected by that little lunatics love-struck brain! I'm just thinking about all sorts of messed up things!

~~Ω~~

Gao Tu squinted at the morning sun as it peeked through the curtains. The air outside of the blanket was cold against his face, and he felt Wenlang pressed against his back. His mind hazily drifted back to the previous night.

Shen Wenlang had agreed to meeting Song Feifei. He had not only agreed, but even seemed to be enthusiastic about it. His heart flipflopped between nervous energy and warm flutters.

While he hoped Shen Wenlang and Ma Heng would be able to eventually meet, Song Feifei was a good start. A safe start. The last thing Gao Tu wanted was the scenario at the theme park having a second act, one which involved Ma Heng getting protective and Shen Wenlang bullying him. The worst-case scenario with Feifei was he would get up and leave.

He was drawn back to the present and reached over to look at the clock on the nightstand when he felt Shen Wenlang nuzzle him, stirring awake.

“It’s not seven yet.”

Gao Tu smiled softly. He recalled one morning in particular when he had awoken before the alarm and tried to get up. Shen Wenlang, despite still being deep in sleep after a long day previously, had mumbled, ‘Lele gets to hug you after seven, I get to hug you until then.’ and he still found it endearingly absurd. Especially knowing Shen Wenlang didn’t seem to recall it at all.

He relaxed back down, pulling his hand back under the warmth of the blanket, and accepted that the likeliness of falling back to sleep was minimal. So instead, he allowed himself to secretly indulge in the warmth and scent of Shen Wenlang.

His mind flickered through different memories over the course of the last couple months. Shen Wenlang had, without Gao Tu truly realising, already become a steady presence in his and Lele’s life. He had become someone again who Gao Tu would think often of and even miss. It was because of this, that the dull pain that had woven into so many implicit memories of their past, had subsided into an odd sense of pensive melancholy in a way that time could not do.

Such things were hard even for Gao Tu to fully understand and conceptualise, and this was one of them. But he supposed that was how emotions and memories were. Even Shen Wenlang, who was able to hold onto such strong feelings about omegas, all stemming from his omega father to the point of it becoming a knife in his heart instead of his hand, had been able to bypass even more years of suffering than him and yet still loved Gao Tu despite being an omega.

Did Gao Tu sometimes think he was truly lovesick, and after everything, to let Shen Wenlang back into his life and his heart, was too soft-hearted? Of course.

But hearing Shen Wenlang willingly agree to meet someone who held so much weight in Gao Tu’s heart, someone who he treasured like family, made him think maybe he was soft-hearted, but he wasn’t being foolhardy. This was different to using suppressants to hold up an illusion.

For the first time in Gao Tu’s life, Shen Wenlang was able to see him exactly as himself. And instead of distain, he received affection. Instead of hatred, he had received love.

And yet, there was still an element of tentative hesitation between them. For all the little touches and closeness, there was some barriers they hadn’t yet dared cross. And the simplest one of them, was kisses.

Now, to say there had been no kisses at all would be an outright lie. The day Shen Wenlang had treated Gao Tu’s cut was still fresh in the omegas memory and he could still remember the feeling of Shen Wenlang’s lips. And since then, Shen Wenlang liked to place little kisses on his cheeks and temple. But surprisingly, for all of Shen Wenlang's sticky nature and desire to always be close to Gao Tu, he hadn’t actually kiss kissed him. Any time Shen Wenlang seemed like he was going to, he’d swiftly shift his mark.

It wasn’t that Gao Tu didn’t want him to. And it wasn’t that Gao Tu didn’t want to himself. But honestly speaking, he couldn’t find the confidence to initiate it.

Gao Tu knew what Shen Wenlang’s lips against his felt like. While the alpha may have drank too much that night, the omega hadn’t. And while Gao Tu’s memory of it did indeed carry a hazy blur around the edges due to being in the midst of a seriously unexpected heat, thanks to his overuse of suppressants, he could still recall the feeling of Shen Wenlang kissing him with great clarity, even after forcing himself to shut the rest of the memory out. Circumstance and lack of experience was proof of the fact that bad sex, was still bad sex.

He appreciated that despite his shy mortification even just thinking about it, Shen Wenlang saying they weren’t going to do anything besides hugging was a sweet gesture but didn’t help with his own hesitancy and ability to take initiative. Gao Tu didn’t blame Shen Wenlang for that night, and it wasn’t like Gao Tu had anticipated he’d go into heat. But he still couldn’t help feeling responsible in some way for letting such a situation even have the potential to happen. It’s not how Gao Tu would have ever wanted their first time together to be.

Feeling his face flush at how his mind had taken a turn into that particular direction, Gao Tu lifted his arm and covered his eyes, trying to somehow shield himself from his own embarrassment. Having such thoughts when things were still so new, and still delicate, made Gao Tu feel like some pervert! Gao Tu’s pride and embarrassment no longer fought each other; they had teamed up and now were attacking his psyche! He let out a soft groan at himself.

The sound was enough to disturb Shen Wenlang out of his sleep, the sound triggering off some internal alarm like a parent when their baby cried in the night. He mumbled between Gao Tu’s shoulder blades. “What’s wrong?”

“N-nothing.” He squeezed out, pressing his arm harder against his eyes.

He felt Shen Wenlang shift and press a hand to his shoulder, gently making him turn over and lay on his back. Gao Tu didn’t resist, but he also couldn’t bring himself to look at Shen Wenlang just yet.

“What’s wrong?” Wenlang asked again softly, looking down at Gao Tu. When Gao Tu refused to answer, Shen Wenlang wrapped a hand around his wrist and carefully removed his arm.

Gao Tu squeezed his eyes shut. If he couldn’t see his own blush, then maybe by miracle Shen Wenlang couldn’t either!

But see it? He’d practically be able to feel the heat of it!

Unfortunately, or maybe fortunately, Shen Wenlang wasn’t a mind reader. So, he could only deduce from the information he had at hand.

“Are you feeling shy waking up after asking me to meet Song Feifei?” He questioned; his tone held an edge of ludicrous surprise.

“No!” Gao Tu’s eyes flew open and looked up at him, he tried to calm his rapidly beating heart and speak in a steady tone, “it’s not that…”

Shen Wenlang tilted his head and rested his cheek against his chest, eyes searching for the answer, “then what’s wrong?”

“Just…silly thoughts…” he mumbled out.

And if saved by the universe, the alarm went off. Shen Wenlang groaned and drooped, his face planting square in the middle of Gao Tu’s chest, catching him by surprise. Wenlang wrapped his arms around Gao Tu’s waist and clung to him, groaning loudly in protest at the alarm.

Such a childish reaction involuntarily made Gao Tu breathe out a laugh. He patted the alphas shoulder to signal him to get up, but he refused.

“Wenlang…I need to go get Lele up for school,” he tried to reason. “Come on, get up or else Lele…”

Gao Tu’s voice trailed off when Wenlang let out another long groan and lifted his head, resting his chin on the others chest and look at him, making a displeased face. Although the sleepiness in Shen Wenlang’s eyes made it lose any effectiveness. “I need to call Hua Yong.”

Speaking of that particular devil, Shen Wenlang’s phone started buzzing loudly against the wood of the side table. The soft tired expression Gao Tu had grown accustomed to, turned into an even more familiar sour one as he very reluctantly peeled himself from his chest and snatched his phone up to answer it.

“Don’t you know how early it is here? I’m not even out of bed yet.” He snapped, making Gao Tu jump slightly.

It had been far too long since he last heard Shen Wenlang use such a tone and it gave him the oddest sense of déjà vu. He could just barely make out Hua Yong’s voice on the other end of the line.

“Your time difference is by a couple hours.” The enigma said lazily, “besides, it’s an important call. Chen Qingfei called me.”

“Her office doesn’t open for another couple of hours, can’t it wait?” Shen Wenlang watched as Gao Tu shuffled down the bed to climb out. He picked up his glasses and slipped them on as he stood up.

He made to try and stop him, but Gao Tu tapped his wrist and then pointed to the wall towards his own home. Lele. Only then did he reluctantly nod. Things would be so much better if Gao Tu and Lele just lived with him.

“Ah, Gao Tu!” he called out, instantly internally cringing knowing that Hua Yong definitely heard that. He looked back and Shen Wenlang held the phone to his chest, speaking in a hushed tone in hopes to muffle the conversation enough for Hua Yong to not hear, “remember what I said last night.”

‘Arrange a time most suitable for you, and I’ll be there.’

Gao Tu gave him a small smile and nodded before he headed to the door and left.

Shen Wenlang inhaled a long slow breath before lifting the phone back to his ear, annoyed, “What did she want and why not speak with me directly?”

“Your business with Novartis is a collaborative investment in production expansion. The business with X Holdings is about what is being produced. She has requested a face-to-face meeting. We’ll be arriving in five days, you can babysit Peanut. He’s been wanting to see you anyway.”

Shen Wenlang’s eyes bugged out and he looked at his phone in disbelief. “What about Sheng Shaoyou?”

“He’s coming with me, naturally.” He said smoothly, “Mr. Sheng has stakes in this particular deal too. I’ll have Chang Yu send you the details. Oh, and Shen Wenlang? Congratulations on getting your wife back.”

Shen Wenlang’s eyes narrowed, and he hung up the phone with a huff. Not in the mood to let Hua Yong mock him on his free day, he went into the bathroom to freshen himself up and get dressed.

He made his way to Gao Tu’s door, planning to walk with the pair to school, and knocked. After waiting for a few minutes, Wenlang was a little confused as to why Gao Tu hadn’t answered. They hadn’t left already, had they? He knocked again.

Only then the door swung open. Gao Tu was still in his lounge shirt but was wearing a pair of jeans. Something about the combination made Shen Wenlang feel strange, his throat going dry and feeling a little warm. What stopped him from unpicking the sensation was the slight worried expression on Gao Tu’s face.

“Lele isn’t going to school today, he’s not feeling too well.”

He moved aside and let Shen Wenlang step in. After closing the door, Gao Tu walked back towards Lele’s bedroom.

“What is the matter with him?” Wenlang asked, following.

Inside the room, the curtains were half drawn, letting in just enough sunlight to see clearly, but still dim enough not to be overwhelming. Gao Tu sat on the edge of the bed and touched Lele’s forehead and cheek.

“He has a bit of a temperature. I might take him doctors just to check him over…”

“I can drive you there. That way you can sit with Lele on your lap and keep an eye on him.” Shen Wenlang offered. Seeing Gao Tu worried and Lele looking a little rosy made him feel anxious.

Gao Tu thought about it for a moment before he agreed, standing up, “Can you fetch a cold compress and watch over him for me, I need to finish getting dressed and I can call Feifei.” He slipped a hand under his glasses and rubbed his eyes, worry still evident, “She works at the clinic. Usually, she works in the afternoons but she left a note saying she is covering someone who called in sick this morning.”

Shen Wenlang nodded and turned for the kitchen. He ran a small hand towel under the cold tap and wrung it out before heading back towards the bedroom. What he hadn’t anticipated was catching a glimpse of Gao Tu as he passed the omega’s bedroom. Causing him to stop dead in his tracks.

His back was to the open door and Shen Wenlang caught a glimpse of the fine curve of Gao Tu’s spine, muscle toned and skin pale. Despite Shen Wenlang always considering Gao Tu sturdy, that didn’t mean he wasn’t slender at the same time. On the contrary, his waist was perfectly cut into a soft angle. He watched as Gao Tu lifted the shirt over his head and pulled it on, bending over to check his phone that he had dropped on the bed. Lifting it to his ear as he called presumably Feifei.

Shen Wenlang forced himself to look away and strode back into Lele’s bedroom. He sat on the edge of the bed, placing the compress on Lele’s forehead and watching him closely, trying not to think of how what he had just caught a glimpse of was burned gloriously onto his brain.

In all the years Shen Wenlang had known Gao Tu, the most exposed skin he had seen was his arms. And whatever else he had the chance to see that night at X Hotel was a blurry memory at best!

He focused his attention on Lele, touching his cheek to check if he was still warm. He listened as he murmured ‘papa’ repeatedly, shifting in discomfort at the source of his comfort having left his bedside.

“He’ll be back soon,” he reassured gently, reaching to stroke his hair. Hesitantly, he let out a soft flow of soothing pheromones.

It felt foreign to Shen Wenlang, having never done such a thing before. And he certainly had never received such treatment from his own alpha father. But seeing how Gao Lele relaxed a little after breathing in the cool scent of iris, Shen Wenlang felt his heart swell.

Shen Wenlang loved Lele, there was no doubt in that. He was his son, and there was no doubt in that either.

And yet, it was this seemingly small act, that made him for the first time, truly feel like he was a father.

Lying on the sofa at home, Shen Wenlang's mind was buzzing with the words of the Jinling Pheromone Doctor.

What did he mean by whether Gao Tu chooses to keep the child or not?

What did he mean as long as that Alpha is there?

That child wasn’t only Gao Tu’s!

Half of it was his as well!

Shit! He wasn’t even dead yet!

Why should other Alphas be allowed to comfort his Omega and children!

The more Shen Wenlang thought about it, the angrier he became, almost to the point of coughing blood and spitting fire.

Chapter Text

From his Alpha father, Shen Wenlang had never once received even the smallest shred of affection. All he had ever known was dictatorship, absolute authority, and violence repaid with violence.

…

In fact, after Ying Yi "passed away", Shen Yu rarely attacked him. The rare times were because Shen Wenlang deliberately stepped on his sore spots and specifically mentioned Ying Yi's death in front of him.

…

If, when Ying Yi was alive, Shen Yu was excessively harsh on him, then after Ying Yi passed away, Shen Yu was completely indifferent to him.

~~Ω~~

Shen Wenlang continued to stroke Lele’s hair comfortingly, still releasing a gentle stream of soothing pheromones while vigilantly watching as Lele settled into a peaceful sleep.

At the same time, he felt and overwhelming sense of a relief as a tension that had penetrated his very core existence for the last three years, had finally been allowed to dissolve. Like a flower trapped in a block of melting ice and finally feeling the warmth of sun’s rays directly touch its petals for the first time.

The intensity of the emotional typhoon that followed was so overpowering he felt his throat tighten up and his eyes hurt. He tried swallowing, but it was like it was stuffed with cotton as he leaned forward, pressing his forehead against Lele’s temple.

He wanted to comfort the sleeping child. He wanted to reassure him his papa would be back any minute now. He wanted to say to him, ‘Dad isn’t papa, but can dad be enough for now?’

The wood flooring creaked as Gao Tu stood at the door, phone to his ear. He’d seen Shen Wenlang comforting Lele, accompanied by the unmistakable scent of soothing pheromones that still lingered in the air.

~~ Ω ~~

The humdrum of the clinic created a comfortable background distraction as Shen Wenlang and Gao Tu sat next to each other, waiting to see the doctor. Glancing over, Wenlang watched as Gao Tu lightly rocked side to side, patting Lele’s back in a gentle rhythm as he cradled him on his lap. He stared out, lost in thought. Only his lightly bouncing leg was a giveaway that he wasn’t as composed as he wanted to appear. He reached over, touching Lele’s forehead to check if his temperature had risen.

Neither had spoken about him being caught red-handed using soothing pheromones when Gao Tu had walked back in. Shen Wenlang hadn’t initially noticed when he had re-entered the bedroom. It was only when Gao Tu had spoken softly to tell him they needed to leave now that Wenlang froze up for a moment, feeling like he got caught in an impermissible act. Gao Tu didn’t mention it, but it was impossible that he could not have picked up on the scent of cool iris circulating around Gao Lele.

“He’s still warm,” Wenlang said softly, brushing his knuckles against Lele’s cheek, “but it’s not gone up.”

Gao Tu nodded once, only breaking out of his daze to look back down at the sleeping child in his arms, “The school said a few parents have called today. So, it’s likely just a school virus…”

Shen Wenlang glanced between the two, feeling awkwardly helpless outside the safety of the apartment. He didn’t know what to say, to ease Gao Tu’s nerves or address what he had seen at the apartment. His emotions still churned through his system, making it impossible to clearly decipher one feeling from the other, and made it difficult to focus.

The ride to the hospital had been quiet. Not necessarily awkward in a sense, but there was something in the air that felt too exposed outside the four walls of the apartment. Gao Tu had called the school before leaving and had called Song Feifei again on the way to the clinic. Lele rested in Gao Tu’s arms, his face still a little flushed but at least appear to be in any discomfort. It had taken practiced effort to not keep glancing over too much at the pair as Shen Wenlang drove.

“Gao Tu!” A light voice called out. Catching their attention just as they had checked in and sat down in the waiting area.

Both sets of eyes looked up to see Song Feifei coming over to them where they were sat. She was dressed in a uniform that was a light cream, almost office-style but simpler. Shen Wenlang recalled Gao Tu mentioning one time she worked at the clinic dispensing prescription medications. He watched as she knelt and looked at Lele then up to Gao Tu, “I checked, you’ll see Doctor Yang. I’m sure it’s nothing serious.”

Gao Tu nodded weakly and glanced over to Shen Wenlang, Song Feifei followed his eyes and landed on the alpha.

“Mr. Shen,” She greeted politely, her eyes giving away her curiosity, “did you bring them?”

“Mn.” He nodded, looking at Gao Tu and then back to her, “Gao Tu was worried about Lele, so I offered.”

A nurse called out Gao Lele’s name and Gao Tu stood up, adjusting his hold. He paused and looked at Shen Wenlang, “Do…you want to come in too?”

Unexpectedly, Song Feifei and Shen Wenlang looked at each other. Usually if Song Feifei was working and Gao Tu came in with Gao Lele, she would sneak in as support for Gao Tu’s frayed nerves. As for Shen Wenlang, he too had not expected for Gao Tu to ask him. He looked back at him and nodded dumbly.

Gao Tu walked ahead first and Shen Wenlang followed, his hand reaching up to rest at the base of Gao Tu’s back as he followed next to him inside the consultation room. A gesture that didn’t go amiss under Song Feifei’s observing eyes.

Doctor Yang was a fairly youthful Beta, perhaps around Shen Wenlang and Gao Tu’s age, with a face you’d expect to find on medical promotion posters. He had known Lele most of his life and built a good patient-doctor relationship with them both. He smiled warmly at the pair but did pause for a moment at the unfamiliar presence of Shen Wenlang. Nevertheless, he nodded pleasantly and gestured for them to take a seat.

“So, what seems to be the issue with Little Lele?” he asked, clicking his pen and ready to take some notes down.

“He’s running a bit of a temperature. He’s usually quite easy to get out of bed, but this morning it’s like he doesn’t have the energy to but is restless at the same time…” Gao Tu explained, his arms on Lele tightening anxiously, “I called his school and they said it seems to be something going around the children. But you know Lele…”

Shen Wenlang listened intently, eyes darting between Gao Tu then Doctor Yang when he noticed him nod and start to speak.

“I know you worry but I can reassure you, Little Lele’s immunity is very typical for a child his age. School germs are one of those things all children will inevitably experience and in the long run helps build a strong immunity,” he smiled reassuringly at him and placed his pen down, “We’ll check his temperature, check for any rashes or anything out of the ordinary and then see where we go from there.”

Gao Tu nodded and coaxed him awake to sit on his lap properly for the doctor to look over him. Doctor Yang went over to the station next to his desk and grabbed the thermos-reader before crouching down to Lele’s eye level, placing it against his head and waiting for the beep.

Shen Wenlang leaned over to Gao Tu’s side, watching the doctor closely as he checked the number on the screen. Then he instructed Gao Tu to lift Lele’s shirt to check his skin for any rashes and the sort before checking his breathing. Once satisfied with his checks he took his seat back behind the desk, jotting down some notes.

“I would say there is nothing to worry about. He has no visible rashes, and his temperature is a little high but nothing to worry about for now. The treatment at this stage is keeping him hydrated and settled while monitoring if there are any changes.”

Gao Tu nodded and breathed a sigh of relief, shoulders relaxing, “Thank you Doctor Yang.”

The Beta smiled back at him, “I’m sure Miss Song will keep me updated how he is doing. When you pay for the consultation, just inform the receptionist there is no need for a planned follow-up.”

All three stood up, Gao Tu thanking Doctor Yang again.

Doctor Yang looked over to Shen Wenleng, “Ah, my apologies I never asked you who you were.”

Shen Wenlang glanced over to Gao Tu, who also glanced over to him. Then his eyes tore away from Gao Tu’s to looked down at Lele, who was already drifting back into sleep. His expression softened and he looked back at Doctor Yang, voice gentle but irrefutable, “I’m Lele’s dad.”

Song Feifei had been loitering around pretending to work when actually she had been waiting for them. When they exited the room she came straight over, all pretence that she was “working” completely dropped.

“What did the doctor say?”

Gao Tu’s expression was relieved but also very flushed, he had adjusted his hold on Lele having changed positions so that the child was able to tiredly wrap his arms around his neck, “The doctor said it’s not flu, Lele likely did pick up something from school.”

Shen Wenlang looked down, the smile on his face hard to contain as he remained quiet.

“Nothing serious at all then,” she breathed out and patted Lele’s hair, “Little Lele is just growing his immunity!”

She looked at Gao Tu, sympathetic. Knowing they might have to delay celebrating Lele’s birthday if he was unwell for it. It was a stroke of fortune they went to the amusement park before.

Feeling Feifei’s hand on his head, Lele peeked out from Gao Tu’s neck, his face still flushed and his eyes bleary, “Papa, I want to go home…”

Gao Tu awkwardly tried to reach into his pocket to grab his phone to pay for the consultation fee, but holding Lele made it difficult. Before Feifei could offer to hold him, Shen Wenlang jumped in and offered first, hands already open. Gao Tu hesitated for a moment, as if his face could get any redder, then handed the child over.

Meanwhile, Song Feifei watched as Shen Wenlang took him and held him close, rock-swaying subconsciously side by side lightly to relax Lele who had rested his head on the alpha’s shoulder, dozily staring out at nothing in particular as he drifted back into a light sleep.

“I’ll be right back.” Gao Tu went over to the reception, not seeing Song Feifei turn back to Shen Wenlang.

“Mr. Shen,” she greeted again, “thank you for bringing them. I tried to be reassuring on the phone, but when it comes to Lele…”

She glanced over at Gao Tu and then back to him, “Lele is Gao Tu’s world.”

~~ Ω ~~

The ride home had felt less tense, the reassurance that Lele was okay was like a heavy weight had been lifted. Instead of Wenlang driving, it was Gao Tu who was in the driving seat. When they went back to the car, Lele had drifted back off to sleep in Shen Wenlang’s arms.

“It’s okay I can keep hold of him,” Shen Wenlang reassured, “no reason to disturb him.”

Gao Tu hesitantly nodded as Wenlang handed the keys over. During the car ride, he kept glancing over at the pair. Shen Wenlang held Lele close, occasionally rubbing his back and stroking his hair as he slept.

For Shen Wenlang, his heart still was going through the tidal rise and fall of emotions as he fell into a contemplative silence.

Growing up, he hadn’t experienced much in the realm of parental love. Even with his omega father, biologically bonded birth parent and child, who left him with complex feelings even before his supposed death. While Ying Yi wasn’t cruel or harsh, his love was a reserved but caring love that was overshadowed in Shen Wenlang’s memories by whatever warped relationship he held with Shen Yu.

The overwhelming love and care he had towards Lele, did his parents really never feel it? Shen Wenlang hated Shen Yu, and still hated how he was somehow a product of that bastard’s genes, but was the man really born of stone to that extent? Even a lunatic like Hua Yong was capable of loving his own offspring, even if he had to do mental and emotional gymnastics to reach to that point.

Shen Wenlang rested his face on Gao Lele’s little shoulder, the soft scent of sage and iris still lingered on him. He secretly revelled in the fact his soothing pheromones had washed off that annoyingly sweet apricot scent from Ma Heng. Now he smelt like the blend he should; Him and Gao Tu. Iris and sage.

When they pulled up back at the apartment complex, Gao Tu reached round and opened the door for Shen Wenlang to climb out before they made their way back to their home. Once inside, Shen Wenlang, still carrying Lele, followed Gao Tu around half-heartedly and leaned against the edge of the dining table. He watched as Gao Tu made his way into the kitchen and reached into the medicine drawer, searching for the child friendly medication. The silence was only occupied by the sound of Gao Tu rummaging through the drawer, checking bottles and boxes until he found what he was looking for. A bottle of liquid the colour of dark honey.

Gao Tu placed it on the side and moved to a high cupboard, pulling out a little bag of jelly sweets and placed them next to the bottle. He had a slightly grim expression as he picked up the bottle again and found a spoon.

“Is the medicine bitter?” Shen Wenlang, watching Gao Tu with curiosity.

“Only a little,” he replied, “it’s easier to convince him to have it as long as he can have something sweet after.”

Nodding, Shen Wenlang watched as Gao Tu prepared to pour a spoonful of medicine out. He looked back down at Lele and pulled one of the dining table chairs out with his leg to sit down and adjust their position, lightly nudging him awake to take the medicine.

“Lele,” Shen Wenlang said softly, “papa wants to give you some medicine to make you feel better.”

Sleepily, Lele mumbled a protest and hid his face in Wenlang. The alpha patted his head, “Come on, sooner you take it the sooner it’s done. Then you can go back sleep.”

With gentle persuading, Lele eventually relented and accepted the spoonful of liquid from Gao Tu. The moment he swallowed, his little face scrunched up, lips puckered, and eyes became wet. Shen Wenlang patted his back lightly, while Gao Tu brought a strawberry shaped gummy sweet for him.

“There we go, all done,” he comforted, rubbing Lele’s back as he looked back up at Gao Tu, not knowing what else to do.

The omega reached out his hands, signalling he wanted to carry their child, “Can you bring a glass of water to the bedroom. I’ll settle Lele down after he’s had a drink.”

Shen Wenlang stood up and handed Lele over, his arms brushing against Gao Tu’s as he let go, and the deep pitted need to hold Gao Tu close again came over him. Involuntarily, the image of Gao Tu’s bare back flashed through his mind and found himself inexplicably wanting to feel if it was just as soft as the skin he had been able to touch and kiss before.

He wanted to touch and feel, to enjoy the scent of sage on Gao Tu’s skin as it slowly became soaked with the scent of iris.

Instantly, he tried to smush the thought down, force it out of his mind, and focus back on filling a glass with some water as requested. But like a dandelion under concrete, the thought still managed to push its way up.

With glass in hand, he went back towards Lele’s bedroom. The door was still open and as he stepped in, he could still catch the faint lingering scent of iris, a reminder of earlier and pulled his thoughts back to the sight in front of him. Gao Tu was half kneeling on the bed, reaching over to adjust the curtain next to the side so that light didn’t spill through and disturb their child’s rest. He glanced over his shoulder when he heard Wenlang enter and pulled himself up, accepting the glass when he held it out, and turning back to sit on the edge of the bed as he helped Lele sit up just enough for him to be able to take a drink of the water.

Shen Wenlang watched quietly the way Gao Tu settled Lele back down under the blanket, tucking him in and brushing his hair away from his forehead before kissing the top of his head, whispering softly to rest.

Once satisfied Lele was tucked in to sleep, he got up. Shen Wenlang turned around and made his way back out the door, Gao Tu following behind. He watched Gao Tu gingerly shut the door, trying to be as quiet as possible. Only when safely blocking Gao Lele from the outside world did he let out a long sigh and slipped his hands under his glasses, rubbing his eyes and face, his shoulders slumping as relief was allowed to settle in his system.

“Sorry…” He said slowly, his eyes glanced at the closed door, “I know it’s just a little fever but…”

Shen Wenlang reached out and touched his arm, squeezing gently to reassure him before his hand drifted down to touch his wrist. Gao Tu’s eyes glanced down at where his hand touched, then looked back up at Wenlang, dark brown meeting obsidian again as he was slowly pulled into a hug by said wrist.

“Don’t say sorry for being worried about Lele.” He felt a pair of arms wrap around his waist in return, not tight or loose, just steady in the need to feel grounded.

Wenlang’s thoughts drifted back to his parents, the difference so foreign as he thought back on his memories of Shen Yu, who showed little care at all for Ying Yi who was so desperate for love it was to the point of madness.

Gao Tu wasn’t Ying Yi, and he wasn’t Shen Yu.

Gao Tu was someone who loved deeply, but quietly from a safe distance, even if it meant it hurt.

Shen Wenlang was someone who hadn’t known love, but found he wanted to love and be loved, even if he wasn’t sure how to and was still learning.

He pulled away just enough to look at Gao Tu. Their eyes locked, neither saying anything as the following silence between them was neither uncomfortable nor suffocating. It was a patient space, waiting to be filled.

Gao Tu wasn’t Ying Yi, and he wasn’t Shen Yu. And Lele wouldn’t turn out like himself. Shen Wenlang would make sure of that. He wanted Lele to grow up knowing he was loved, his omega father was loved, and his alpha father loved both of them dearly. He wanted Gao Tu to feel loved, cherished and wanted.

Shen Wenlang had never received any love from his Alpha father, only authoritarian power and violence against violence.

His feelings towards his Omega father were far more contradictory and complicated.

On the one hand, although Ying Yi was strict with him, but never without warmth. He was the only one who dared to apply medicine for Shen Wenlang silently after he missed the target three times out of ten times and was kicked over by Shen Yu.

He was also the only one who dared to stand up and tell the Alpha to stop talking when Shen Yu reprimanded Shen Wenlang.

But Ying Yi's almost morbid attachment to Shen Yu, and the stories Shen Wenlang inferred and guessed, made Shen Wenlang unable to have any respect for him.

Chapter Text

He tried his best to avoid thinking about Shen Wenlang as an adult, tried his best to avoid remembering the daily time they had spent together at work or in private, and tried his best to avoid remembering Shen Wenlang's hot body temperature and the lustful kiss that day.

It seemed that as long as he didn't think about those things, Gao Tu's unrealistic love for Shen Wenlang would always remain in his school days, with an inaccessible beautiful hazy feeling, without the need for bad lies and ugly deceptions.

However, the expression on his face when he looked at Gao Tu contained pain and caution that Gao Tu could not understand.

~~Ω~~

“There’s no need for you to ever say sorry to me…not when it comes to Lele…especially when he's unwell” he said softly, reassuring him.

Something in his words struck Gao Tu, his eyes flickered, and he moved to wrap himself around Shen Wenlang again. It felt easier, less exposing, to be in a hug than to face him directly.

Shen Wenlang hadn’t missed the change, even when he was more than happy to return the embrace—Shen Wenlang still wanted to know what was going on in Gao Tu’s mind.

“What were you thinking?”

He felt Gao Tu’s arm tighten around him, his voice was hesitant, chin resting on his shoulder and face safely out of view, finally saying, “in Lele’s room…”

Shen Wenlang knew exactly what direction this conversation was going in. Gao Tu had caught him using soothing pheromones, and on Lele. And while the act itself wasn’t inherently wrong, it was still something they couldn’t ignore.

So much significance around such a simple gesture; it had shaken both parents in the gravity of it. Because both alpha and omega knew the weight of it, even if from different stepping stones in the lake of their past.

For Shen Wenlang, who had even found himself suffering from mate-seeking syndrome, born of a deep love and aching desire to be with his pregnant omega, giving Lele his soothing pheromones was instinctive. It was as if something primal had finally been fulfilled. And that was deeply comforting, cathartic even, and terrifying.

Terrifying in the most beautiful way. Because it was real, and it had meant something.

For the first time in Shen Wenlang’s life, he understood what familial bonds were meant to feel like. With Lele, it was the love of a parent, an all-consuming beautiful and intense love that encompasses your entire existence. Something he lacked in childhood and therefore didn’t think he would ever feel himself.

With Gao Tu, it was a love you didn’t know was possible, because you couldn’t imagine what love looked like outside of the walls that had been built by, and through, others.

Gao Tu shifted and rested his head on Shen Wenlang’s shoulder, face hidden.

“Seeing you with Lele…doing…that…”

For Gao Tu—a raw feeling of vulnerability crept in. Only the gentle feel of Shen Wenlang’s hand wrapped around and resting at the base of his back kept his complex mixture of shyness and nerves at bay.

“I… just…wasn’t expecting it…”

The day, when Gao Tu had asked him about if an omega was pregnant with his child, had stuck deep into his heart. Even when Gao Ming had tried to use Lele as a bargaining chip for money, he couldn’t even bring himself to stay and bear hearing him agree to it. The whole ordeal still made his stomach churn viscerally.

He had come to terms with Shen Wenlang not wanting Lele, it was the very reason he went on the run, the very reason he had fought so hard to protect the life growing inside him. Because even if Shen Wenlang didn’t want him, Gao Tu did. For Gao Tu, it had never been a question of if he wanted Lele. For him, he loved Lele from the moment the two lines appeared on the pregnancy test.

After three years of building a life where not only was Lele safe and happy, but he himself had settled into a new world where he no longer had to fight with his own biology simply to exist next to someone he loved deeply—until Shen Wenlang crashed back in. Not only was he no longer the person Gao Tu had silently accepted was never going to accept him or his child, but he had clung desperately to him and even fought to prove everything otherwise. That Lele was wanted and was loved. And had said he loved him too.

Gao Tu had already accepted, quietly and without ceremony, that he still loved Shen Wenlang. It had settled into his heart and been tucked away where it couldn’t be hurt. Where he didn’t have to question if he was being silly or naïve. Where hesitation couldn’t touch.

Because trust was different. Trust had edges. It had history.

He had seen Shen Wenlang care for Lele. Gentle gestures, soft words, the way he interacted their son naturally. And Gao Tu had appreciated it, even been surprised and moved by it. But some part of him still held back, curled tight around the memory of being unknowingly rejected. Around the ache of having to choose love for his child alone and pack away the love for the alpha.

Then he saw it; Shen Wenlang, instinctively, unconsciously, using soothing pheromones on Lele.

It wasn’t planned. It wasn’t performative. It was something deeper than words, deeper than apology. Something that came from the core of who Shen Wenlang was, really was—someone who had never loved nor been loved and yet loved deeply and honestly.

And in that moment, the feeling and scent of soothing pheromones still clear in his memory, Gao Tu had felt something shift. Not just in the room, but in himself. The hesitation he’d carried, quiet and buried but always there, had finally loosened its grip. Because this wasn’t just care. This was love. Real, unguarded love. The kind that didn’t come with pain. The kind that simply existed without fear.

And Gao Tu’s heart, having carried the rejection in the past and fear of the sweet dream coming to an end, finally felt at ease—and that was scary.

Because to love, there had to be trust. And to trust is to know someone can hurt you—giving them the power to hurt you. And instead of hurting you, they will cherish you. That they’ll take your heart and hold it in their hands tenderly to protect it, not crush it. Trust is no longer having to brace for pain.

Trust can’t be earned or rebuilt in a day. Nor was it something to be forced. And the scariest and most important step—is making the choice to try.

Gao Tu went quiet, trying to form the right words, to voice feelings that were deep and complex even for himself to fully understand in a way that could be explained out loud.

Shen Wenlang reached out and rested his hand at the base of Gao Tu’s neck, making Gao Tu glance up. He relaxed when he saw his expression was soft and didn’t say anything. Neither demanding an answer nor expecting one, explaining what was going through his mind.

He couldn’t help that he lacked confidence to take initiative, that was simply his nature over the years. But after the day’s revelations, he was willing to try. If someone like Shen Wenlang could find a way to be so openly affectionate, to prove his feelings. Gao Tu wanted to learn to as well.

And in the quiet, something unspoken passed between them—a change.

It was there again; the feeling of that door that had been previously tightly shut, now ajar, waiting for someone to step through. To take that first step without the fear of it closing on them.

Gao Tu’s arms around Shen Wenlang loosened, his hands settling at his waist, eyes never leaving his face. Neither spoke as Shen Wenlang’s hand lifted, fingers brushing gently against Gao Tu’s cheek.

“Gao Tu...”

His name came out like a whisper and there was so much Shen Wenlang wanted to say, needed to say, but it felt as if all the words in the world were like stars, just out of reach.

His thumb brushed along Gao Tu’s cheek, touching the corner of his lips, and for a moment, the memory of the kitchen flickered in his mind. He had wanted to kiss Gao Tu then, but hesitancy and fear had stopped him. Scared he’d push the boundary line too hard, too quick, and in turn cause Gao Tu to pull back, to run away and lose him again.

And yet, if he did, Shen Wenlang would still chase after him. Even if it took another three years, ten years, he would still chase after him and beg him for forgiveness and do whatever he could to stop his bunny from running away from him again.

Because Shen Wenlang was truly, utterly, in love with Gao Tu.

He leaned in slowly, cautiously. When their lips were a breath apart, he paused, giving Gao Tu the chance to pull away if he wanted. Shen Wenlang couldn’t help the second-nature hesitance. Eyes searching Gao Tu’s face, silently asking, “Can I?”

Maybe it was because he could hardly remember what happened that night at X Hotel. Maybe it was the guilt that Gao Tu fleeing was his fault. Maybe it was both.

Before his thoughts could truly spiral, he felt the thumbs on his hips rub against the fabric of his shirt. Gao Tu’s eyes flicked up, meeting Shen Wenlang’s, his touch comforting and not a rejection. He didn’t pull away; he was right here, willingly in Shen Wenlang’s arms.

Just as he was about to close the space between them, eyes flickering shut, he felt Gao Tu’s lips press softly against his own, tentative, but certain.

Shen Wenlang’s eyes flew open, and he looked down at him, suddenly aware of the difference in their height, a detail that had never felt so pronounced until now, even if small.

Gao Tu had leaned in first. Had kissed him first. It was gentle, and almost chaste, but it was very much real and undeniably Gao Tu. There was no fear, no hesitation—just him.

Shen Wenlang closed the space between them again, eyes closing as he pressed his lips against Gao Tu’s. And this time, he didn’t hesitate—the lingering fear replaced with nothing but a sense of relief.

When he felt Gao Tu return the kiss, his lips steadier and more assured, it was like Shen Wenlang’s heart could float up out of his chest. He pulled away just a fraction, breath caught—warm, shared. It was acceptance. It was permission. It was Gao Tu’s answer.

Gao Tu’s hands rose up Shen Wenlang’s back instinctively, holding onto him for support. They parted briefly, only to return, this time more confident. Shen Wenlang’s hand moved to rest at the back of Gao Tu’s neck over his gland, pulling him closer as he leaned into the kiss, deepening it. There was no rush to their rhythm. It was a touch neither had dared approach, held apart by a thread of their own insecurities. And now, finally, they could savour it.

His arm slipped around Gao Tu’s waist, the warmth of his body against his own was like a balm to his soul, grounding him in the moment. Wenlang shifted without meaning to, and Gao Tu’s back met the wall, offering a tangible sense of support and stability. And it was that stability that shifted something between them as Shen Wenlang deepened the kiss.

Gao Tu responded in equal measure, lips parting and breath catching until he pulled away, almost abruptly. He drew a shaky breath, fingertips resting on Wenlang’s lips to stop him.

Before Shen Wenlang could ask if he had done something wrong—Gao Tu, cheeks flush, whispered one word that made everything clear.

“Lele...”

They weren’t alone. Just behind the door, Lele was sleeping, unaware of the shift that had just taken root right outside his bedroom.

Shen Wenlang smiled softly, resting his forehead against Gao Tu’s, breathing still slightly staggered. He didn’t mind they had stopped. Because it was just the start. Because Gao Tu had let him in.

“Lele.” He echoed, understanding. They weren’t alone, and Lele needed looking after.

The weight of what just occurred between them made Gao Tu’s initial forwardness turn bashful and he looked down, trying to hide his face.

Shen Wenlang noticed the change in his demeanour and his heart settled, adoring how his bunny turned shy. He breathed out a laugh and looked up at the ceiling, a giddy sense of relief and happiness washing over him like the first spring shower.

His hand settled in Gao Tu’s hair. Loose strands slipped between his fingers as he tipped his face down and pressed a long kiss to Gao Tu’s cheek, wrapping an arm around his shoulder and pulling the omega close to his chest away from the wall, absentmindedly rocking them gently side to side.

Gao Tu’s cheeks were on fire, but he couldn’t help the little smile appearing on his face, hiding it in Shen Wenlang’s shoulder, unable to resist the quiet pleasure of seeing him like this; unguarded, warm and soft. A side of Shen Wenlang he’d never seen before—and one he didn’t want to see fade beneath a cold, sharp façade.

They settled into a warm silence, holding onto each other while rocking idly. Shen Wenlang nuzzled the crook of Gao Tu’s neck, his erratic heart feeling at peace as he breathed in the Gao Tu’s scent.

At the same time, Gao Tu rested his chin on Shen Wenlang’s shoulder, a hand reaching up and laying against his shoulder blade and patted in a slow rhythm, the scent of iris and sage wrapping around them.

They simply enjoyed the quiet moment between them. Then Gao Tu mumbled something into his shoulder about tea and needing to email some translated documents, although he made no rush to let go. Shen Wenlang was reluctant to part but eventually conceded, following him into the kitchen and leaning against the edge of the counter with his arms crossed, watching Gao Tu intently. As if turning away for even a moment he would forget every detail about the omega in front of him.

Because to him, Gao Tu was a precious treasure.

He remembered Song Feifei’s words.

“Lele is Gao Tu’s world”

If Lele was Gao Tu’s world, then for Shen Wenlang—Gao Tu and Lele were his universe.

Chapter Text

A few days later, school started. Gao Tu was scolded by his head teacher for not completing his summer homework on time and was sent to stand in the corridor outside the office as punishment.

It was not until much later that Shen Wenlang realized that Gao Tu did not fail to finish his homework because he was lazy, and he did not work four jobs for some kind of survey.

It was because Gao Tu’s father had gambled away the tuition fees that Gao Tu had painstakingly saved up for several semesters, forcing him to take unplanned work to raise the tuition fees.

The day he learned the truth, Shen Wenlang felt a sharp pain in his heart, as if he had been stabbed by a needle. After class, he made a detour to the convenience store where Gao Tu worked part time and gave him a bottle of sea buckthorn juice.

~~Ω~~

While Gao Tu worked, Shen Wenlang lingered. Not like a bad smell, but more like a pleasant fragrance as he watched Gao Tu intently finish his work, occasionally checking on Lele, and back again.

Any other time, Gao Tu would have found such a lingering presence either distracting or uncomfortably observant. But Shen Wenlang’s quiet watchfulness felt calming.

Only when he turned off the computer, did he finally stretch. His back arching over the back of his chair, tension unwinding with a satisfying release. His arms dropped at his sides; head tipped back with a long sigh. He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to force the tension behind them to relax after staring at the screen for too long.

He hadn’t caught Shen Wenlang, midway to bringing him a drink, catch a glimpse of the sliver of skin exposed when he stretched. Nor the quick, guilty, glance away. Suddenly fascinated by the cobweb in the corner as he came over.

After a moment, Gao Tu rolled his head to the side, watching Shen Wenlang set the cup down beside him.

“Feifei will be home soon. Ma Heng won’t be home till later. He has a meeting.”

Shen Wenlang leaned against the edge of the desk, facing Gao Tu as he took a long-measured sip of his own tea. Gao Tu couldn’t read his expression, but he slowly reached out and touched his hand that held onto the edge of the desk. Wenlang didn’t resist as Gao Tu eased it free, his fingertips brushing against his palm briefly as he slipped his hand into his, holding lightly.

He still felt somewhat self-conscious from the kiss earlier, the reality of it having sunk in. His heartbeat lingered in his ears, his body still vibrating with the remnants of the release from his anxieties, eased only by the repetitive normalcy of getting some work done. Some habits really did die hard.

“I need to stay with Lele tonight,” he said, his voice low, “he’ll either want me to sleep with him, or he’ll crawl into my bed.”

In a small, guilt-tinged way, Gao Tu was kind of relieved to be staying at home. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to stay with Wenlang. And it certainly wasn’t that he was glad Lele was sick. But the thought of sharing a bed so soon after what had happened made his chest tighten with a quiet, impending shyness that would inevitably come over him if he and the alpha were to share a bed after what had not long transpired.

Wenlang nodded, absentmindedly bouncing their hands on his thigh lightly. In truth, he wanted nothing more than to wrap his arms around Gao Tu and hold him close, sharing more kisses. But he couldn’t quite bring his selfishness to a level where it meant leaving Lele while he was unwell.

“What’s your plans for dinner?” he asked instead.

“Feifei texted me. Said she’s cooking tonight.” Gao Tu rolled his head back and closed his eyes, reaching under his glasses with his other hand to pinch the bridge of his nose and rub his eyes, “She’s going to buy the ingredients on her way home.”

For a beat, neither of them spoke. Shen Wenlang set his cup down and reached out, rubbing his thumb gently between Gao Tu’s eyebrows, trying to ease the tension there. His voice was slow, steady—thoughtful.

“We… spoke briefly at the clinic.”

Gao Tu’s eyes opened, and he looked up at Wenlang. He ran through his memory at the clinic and couldn’t recall a moment they might’ve spoken, so his curiosity piqued. “When?”

Shen Wenlang paused briefly, remembering Feifei’s words—his heart warming—before he continued to massage between his brows, eyes focused on the task, “When you went to the reception to pay. She cares a lot about you and Lele.”

He watched as Gao Tu’s expression softened affectionately, “Song Feifei is like an aunt to Lele. When she started dating Ma Heng, she naturally clicked with him the first time he brought her to meet me and him.”

There weren’t many omegas who didn’t gravitate towards children, but Feifei coming from a small family had practically adopted Gao Lele as her official baby nephew. And that little, delicate—somewhat odd, given the circumstances—family had begun to feel stable. After Ma Heng’s April Fool’s Day confession, having someone there for Ma Heng had eased some of the guilt in Gao Tu’s heart, it felt like they had all settled into a real meaning of “family”.

After years of it just being him and Gao Qing; Ma Heng and Song Feifei had taught him that family could simultaneously feel complete and continue to grow.

For Shen Wenlang, it was still a sore spot in his heart to not have been there for both parent and child. But it was at least eased that Gao Tu hadn’t been alone—and with just Ma Heng.

His hand dropped down and rested on the armrest of the chair, leaning forward, voice soft as his eyes finally fell on to Gao Tu’s, and he offered him a small smile, “then I hope when we are formally introduced, she approves.”

Hearing this, Gao Tu’s eyes locked onto Wenlang’s, and whatever words he might’ve said dissolved before they could form. He breathed out a small smile in return and rested his cheek on his hand, elbow on the armrest beside Wenlang’s hand, taking in the softness of the alpha’s expression.

For a moment, they sat in the soft silence, simply observing each other with a new layer between them. Gao Tu watched as Wenlang lifted their joined hands, pressing a kiss first to his knuckles, then to the back of his hand—silent, tender.

When Gao Tu didn’t pull away, Wenlang leaned in, their eyes half lidded as they blinked slowly. And when his lips met Gao Tu’s—light, tentative—he didn’t evade.

It wasn’t a heated kiss; it was a soft reassurance. A reaffirmation that their first kiss wasn’t just a fleeting moment caught up in feelings or impulse driven by heat of the moment. Shen Wenlang pulled back minutely, but Gao Tu’s lips followed. Unwilling to break the kiss, reluctant to let the moment end just yet.

The hand that had been on the arm rest reached up and touched Gao Tu’s jaw, fingertips brushing lightly before resting at the base of his ear. Not possessive, just present. Simply absorbing the quiet warmth between them.

Only the rattle of keys in the front door as it was opened signalled Feifei had returned, disturbing the quiet space between them. Surprisingly, it was Shen Wenlang who pulled away first and straightened up before they could potentially be caught. His expression relaxed into something neutral but the warmth in it was unmistakable.

Gao Tu let go of his hand, turning the chair toward the sound. Shen Wenlang picked up his cup and took another sip, not moving from the edge of the desk as Feifei rounded the corner looking for Gao Tu, pausing mid-step when she saw them—close, quiet, still threaded with something unspoken. And Gao Tu’s face tinted pink.

“Oh!” She blinked, a flicker of surprise crossing her face as she stepped into the room, bags still dangling from her hands. “Sorry, I didn’t realise you had company.”

“Wenlang has been keeping an eye on Lele while I finished work,” Gao Tu said quickly, palms resting firmly on his legs as he tried to ground himself and force his face to cool down.

She nodded, still eyeing them a little curiously. She lifted the bags in her hands as she spoke, “I bought some snacks for Lele as well. How is he?”

Gao Tu got up and made his way over to her to guide her towards the kitchen, “He’s doing much better. Just sleeping for now,” he glanced back at Shen Wenlang whose eyes never left him, “can you check on him while I help Feifei?”

He straightened up from the desk, unable to help the small smile on his face as he nodded, “Of course.”

With a final nod, Gao Tu scooted Feifei out the room and down the hallway while Shen Wenlang moved to check on Lele. He heard Feifei’s voice in the distance, just loud enough for him to hear but not so loud for it to be obvious, “He seems softer with you than when he’s on TV.” And he couldn’t help but look down and smile.

As his hand rested on the door handle, he heard quick shuffled footsteps before Song Feifei’s head poked around the corner, “Are you staying for dinner?”

Shen Wenlang looked up and blinked before smiling at her, “Sure.”

~~Ω~~

The scent of garlic, sesame oil, and ginger drifted through the air, accompanied by the occasional clatter of pots and pans from the kitchen. In the living room, Gao Tu sat with Lele between his legs, bundled lightly in a blanket half asleep while Gao Tu fed him some rice porridge. His face wasn’t as flushed, the medicine having started to ease his symptoms, but still was worn out as he quietly swallowed each spoonful.

Gao Tu glanced at the kitchen.

This was not how he had envisioned Song Feifei and Shen Wenlang first properly interacting.

Feifei’s laughter rang out briefly, light and unguarded, followed by Shen Wenlang’s quieter reply. Gao Tu couldn’t make out the words, but the tone was easy, companionable. It made something in his chest loosen. Still, a thread of nervousness lingered. It felt like his past and present had collided, and were now, unbelievably, in the kitchen making dinner.

Song Feifei grinned, stirring the vegetables that were frying in the pan. “For someone who hated processed food you really would go to the convenience store to see Gao Tu?”

It had been a slip of the tongue, an admission that was meant to be an internal reflection, not said out loud.  Song Feifei had only asked what Gao Tu was like back in school.

And what was meant to come out as “Gao Tu would always work the late shift at the convenience store near the school” came out as “I would always go into the convenience store near the school at night, when Gao Tu was working the late shift.”

He hadn’t realised then that he always went in during Gao Tu’s shift—only that it became a habit. Only recently did he see the pattern clearly, even if he hadn’t known why at the time. Song Feifei shrewdly had put the pieces together and found it adorably telling.

“They sold some decent stuff there,” he mumbled, a feeble counterargument, as he chopped a carrot a little heavier handed than before.

She smiled warmly, trying to reign in her amusement, “No, no I think it’s cute.”

Wenlang forced himself to ease up his motion, lest he want to take off a finger.

“I just didn’t expect you to have had a crush on Gao Tu for so long,” she tried not to grin, glancing at him, “based on how different you two were back then, it’s… just a little surprising.”

His memory of when he and Gao Tu met was patchy, lost to the passing of time. But he still remembered his shabby, ill-fitted and over washed uniform, and how he blushed but still told him off for wasting food. Sneaking snacks unprompted out of nowhere, expecting nothing in return.

Honestly, Shen Wenlang had wondered more than once what it was that made Gao Tu, who he thought was a beta at the time, stick in his mind so stubbornly. Maybe it was the quiet sense of stability Gao Tu offered, at a time when Wenlang felt he had none. An odd but honest kind of security, unspoken but steady.

“But at the same time, not as surprising now. It makes sense,” she said softly, “Gao Tu doesn’t talk much about his past, but the way you look at each other…he’s letting you in.”

He paused, eyes flicking to hers—quietly asking for more. Before she had the chance to respond, Gao Tu stepped in with the empty bowl in hand.

“Lele is back in bed,” he moved to the sink, unaware of the conversation that had started to unfold as he looked at Feifei, “is there anything you need help with?”

She nodded towards Shen Wenlang cutting vegetables, “Help Mr Shen. One last dish to make and then we can eat.”

The last dish came together quickly; the kitchen filled with the quiet clatter of plates and the low hum of conversation. Soon, they were gathered around the dining table, the food laid out between them—simple, fragrant, comforting.

Feifei was sat directly across from Shen Wenlang who was sat next to Gao Tu as she filled her bowl, “You said Lele’s new playmate, and his parents, are visiting soon?”

She could vaguely recall the child that had bumped into Lele that day at the amusement park. From what Gao Tu had told her, he knew his parents and Shen Wenlang was his godfather. And so naturally, Song Feifei’s interest was pulled at when Shen Wenlang had mentioned he would be looking after Huasheng.

“Mn. Because of HS Group’s ties with X Holdings and Shengfang Bio, it’s common for opportunities to cross over. There are a few planned meetings for it.”

He looked at Gao Tu, “I’ll be taking Peanut to the aquarium. If Lele is better, you and him can join. Peanut is excited to see him again.”

Gao Tu looked back at him, nodding. Song Feifei watched them closely as an idea sparked in her mind.

“Ah, that reminds me! Gao Tu, have you decided on birthday plans yet?” She looked at Shen Wenlang, eyes sparkling, “Gao Tu is such a party pooper, if it wasn’t for Lele he’d forget his own birthday!”

This was something Shen Wenlang was certainly familiar with. Gao Tu, who would remember Shen Wenlang’s birthday every year without fail and even give him gifts, even if Shen Wenlang himself had forgotten, would easily forget his own birthday.

He turned to Gao Tu, “You still forget to celebrate your birthday, even now?”

Gao Tu cleared his throat and stuffed a piece of meat into his mouth, looking a little sheepish. Song Feifei was more than happy to continue.

“He celebrates his birthday more for Lele than himself! Last year we went to the beach for the weekend because Lele was obsessed with a fish cartoon back then,” she looked at Shen Wenlang, exasperated, “Mr Shen, you’ve known Gao Tu for so long now, surely you can understand the frustration!”

Shen Wenlang glanced at Gao Tu, remembering the small, thoughtful gifts—always practical, always timed just right. Yet he’d never asked for anything in return when it came to his own birthday. His expression softened and he leaned close just enough to trap Gao Tu in his gaze, “As long as you’re happy on your birthday, that’s all that matters.”

The air stilled around the pair, momentarily locked into their own world.

Song Feifei rested her chin on her hand, casually picking at her food as she watched them like a hawk, not even pretending to be subtle. Such close scrutiny snapped Gao Tu back into reality and blush with a choke, coughing and reaching for his water. His eyes darted between Song Feifei and Shen Wenlang who leaned back and filled his bowl.

“I think we should plan something,” Feifei offered, picking up a slice of carrot and popping it into her mouth, chewing slowly, “Mr Shen is welcome to join, of course.”

And with that, Song Feifei gave her quiet initial seal of approval to Shen Wenlang.

That bottle of bright orange juice sat at the very deepest part of Gao Tu’s bookshelf for a long, long time. He never had the heart to drink it—not until it had gone bad. 

Chapter Text

Shen Wenlang actually couldn't remember when this Beta started to appear by his side.

Looking back, it was too long ago. When Shen Wenlang was still in school, one day, he turned around and suddenly found that this ordinary Beta had been following him for a long time. At first, he only appeared in Shen Wenlang's sight occasionally, and then he didn't know how to start a conversation.

Shen Wenlang was not a talkative or outgoing person, but this Beta from the same grade but different class was smooth-tempered and not annoying. So Shen Wenlang did not chase him away, but allowed him to follow him. They got along like this, and so many years passed in the blink of an eye.

When Gao Tu joined the HS secretary team, they had been out of touch for nearly a year.

Suddenly seeing a familiar photo on the wall of outstanding employees in the Human Resources Department, Shen Wenlang got excited for some reason and asked for Gao Tu, who originally worked in the Planning Department, to join the secretarial team which was closer to him.

From Shen Wenlang's perspective, this man was too indifferent and dull. Although he worked hard and made progress, he always lacked the spirit of flexibility.

However, Gao Tu's steadiness, stability and inflexibility were exactly the precious things that were most lacking in this materialistic and ever-changing world.

~~Ω~~

The next few days passed with the ease of a cool stream in summer. For Gao Tu, it felt as though a weight had lifted from his mind: Gao Lele was healthy again, darting around with renewed energy. Having agreed to celebrate his birthday at a different time. Song Feifei, ever perceptive, would occasionally mention Shen Wenlang, gently reassuring Gao Tu that she had spoken to Ma Heng briefly and was going to sit him down properly soon. Meanwhile, Shen Wenlang had been a quiet presence, visiting Lele and Gao Tu through the day between work tasks. Even one night having dinner again with Gao Tu, Lele and Song Feifei.

Shen Wenlang had concluded he liked Song Feifei. That she wasn’t a threat. She was polite and had an easiness that felt oddly natural and made her hard to dislike even as an omega. They had bonded between a mutual care for Gao Tu and Gao Lele as well as her education background in pheromone biology. He was quite surprised she was only working at a small clinic instead of somewhere like Novartis.

Seeing Gao Tu relaxed, like an undercurrent of concern had been eased, brought peace of mind to Shen Wenlang in return. The day after first meeting Feifei, Chang Yu had called to confirm exactly when Hua Yong would be landing in Country V and slowly the days counted down until Hua Yong, Sheng Shaoyou, and Huasheng arrived.

That day finally came. And Shen Wenlang, instead of being at an airport or a hotel, was currently once again in Gao Tu’s home.

It was Lele’s first day back at school after being unwell, and after returning to the routine of walking with the pair to drop him off, naturally, Shen Wenlang returned to Gao Tu’s place instead of his own.

Gao Tu was bent over the dining table staring down at his phone, eyes flickering, pen in hand, between a document and the screen, arranging something work related while Shen Wenlang floated around quietly making them a drink.

He couldn’t help but glance over at the omega—so casually focused, yet so absorbed in the task. Seeing him bent over, eyes darting from one thing to the other. It felt oddly domestic and reminiscent of when they worked together, like the Gao Tu he knew then and knew now, blurred together. He watched Gao Tu tapping the front of his shoe against the floor as he worked, brows wrinkled, the rhythm irregular but constant.

Placing the cup of tea down next to his hand, Wenlang glanced over his shoulder, hand resting on the small of his back. The paper document had circles and underlines with notes scattered around what looked like a form of contract.

“What’s this?”

Not looking up, Gao Tu circled another error, “During contract negotiations, the company altered the obligations. Their employer now needs a revised translation for visa applications before it can be notarised by their sister company. It’s a small business, but they want everything finalised before submitting to their legal team.”

Shen Wenlang nodded along. His eyes drifted past the document, peeking at the curve of Gao Tu’s spine as he remained bent over, body shifting slightly as his shoe tapped away. He wore a cream long-sleeved shirt; the sleeves bunched into the crooks of his elbows, but Wenlang could still make out the shape of him beneath it, and involuntarily, his mind flickered to those earlier glimpses of Gao Tu’s exposed waist and back. Those moments had begun to creep into his thoughts more often lately—quiet, uninvited, and oddly persistent.

He knew his hands had once wandered across skin he shouldn’t have touched at X Hotel, but the memory was blurred in vision and dulled in senses. Like a scent half remembered or pain forgotten but the memory remaining. It was like reaching for a light in a thick fog, perceivable but unclear and unreachable. Even when laying in bed together, there was a barrier of fabric between them.

Gao Tu closed his phone and straightened up, not noticing Wenlang’s gaze, steady and unblinking, “I can make the changes later. If Feifei or Ma Heng does bedtime with Lele I can get it finished by the end of the day.”

He reached for his cup and looked at Shen Wenlang whose eyes quickly snapped back to his face, hand dropping from where it had rested. Gao Tu’s eyes lingered, just long enough to make Wenlang wonder if he’d been seen, before taking a long sip of his tea. A silence settled between them, not uncomfortable but with a tension neither dared quite address.

Because that meant it would be the first night since Lele was unwell that Gao Tu might come round. And both felt the weight of that possibility settle in the silence. At what might still be waiting to unfold in the privacy and intimacy of being so close, and so alone together.

It echoed the quiet shift that followed the day they first kissed, when Shen Wenlang had come round, just him and Gao Tu in this space alone, Lele still asleep, Song Feifei and Ma Heng already having left for work.

Shen Wenlang had still wrapped his arms around Gao Tu as he prepared lunch, peppering Gao Tu with kisses on his cheeks and temple, burying his face in Gao Tu’s neck to breathe in the scent of sage. Gao Tu would reciprocate in kind, absentmindedly interlocking his fingers with Wenlang’s across his stomach, leaning back into his chest, even placing a few soft kisses on Shen Wenlang’s cheek as a retaliation to being showered with so much contact. A quiet answer to Wenlang’s playful affection.

The normalcy eased the unspoken thickness to the air.

That was when he slowly pressed a kiss to Wenlang’s lips, daring to test the waters and settle into the newness of their physical development, that a sense of ease replaced the weight that had threatened to hold them hostage in lingering uncertainty.

They had shared kisses since that day, little pecks here and there, each more lingering than the last. They moved around each other with the ease of familiarity, never noticing how each glance lingered a little longer, how each touch settled a little deeper—until the space between them hummed with something that hadn’t yet taken full shape, let alone been named.

The ring of Shen Wenlang’s phone pulled Gao Tu back to the present. He watched the subtle shift in Wenlang’s expression as he answered, softness giving way to something almost irritated. Like that softness was reserved just for him—flickers of caution, yes, like a restraint that surfaced when they got too close to a silent flame. But beneath it, an affection that belonged only to Gao Tu. A warmth he’d come to crave, because it was his alone. And it made him feel greedy. Selfish. Because he’d dreamed of it for so many years. And now that he had it, it was a fragile balance between never wanting to let it go and fearing it might consume him more than he could bear if it was taken away.

Gao Tu’s reflexive hesitation to initiate.

Shen Wenlang’s unknowing restraint.

It was proximity without access, desire without resolution.

And it was only a matter of time that craving would outpace caution, and the next breath, next touch, might be the one that cracked the delicate but long-held quiet shackles they were bound by, and never dared break.

He didn’t pay much attention to the conversation itself as he watched Wenlang from the rim of his cup. He took another sip, slow, steady, as if the heat of the tea could anchor him.

He watched the familiar habits that reminded him that the alpha in front of him was still the CEO of HS Group. The way Shen Wenlang’s finger tapped on the side of his phone, a habit that carried over into boardroom meetings, and his tone clipped but professional, back straight and commanding. So different from the Shen Wenlang who would bury his face in Gao Tu’s shoulder and grumble when he tried to get up before the alarm.

Shen Wenlang hung up and turned back to Gao Tu, his posture relaxing, that soft warmth returning as he reached out and touched his wrist. Gao Tu lifted his hand, twisting just enough to meet the touch, their palms resting gently together. The heat between them a comfort.

“It was Chang Yu; the flight is ahead of schedule. They’re landing in just over an hour.”

Gao Tu nodded, understanding the change can have a domino effect. Originally the pair had planned for Shen Wenlang to go pick Huasheng up while Gao Tu collected Lele from school.

Logically, it would make sense for them to both go to collect Huasheng and make their way back, maybe stopping for a drink or something along the way, to pick Lele up. They both knew this.

Shen Wenlang wasn’t ashamed of Gao Tu. Of course not. What bothered him was Hua Yong’s antics. Who knew what that Enigma would say when he saw Gao Tu.

Even Huasheng was very familiar with the story—Gao Tu, the omega who his godfather loved, left without saying goodbye. Huasheng knew it by heart. Sheng Shaoyou’s version was oddly forgiving. Hua Yong’s? “The runaway wife.”

The teasing had mostly come from Hua Yong, though Sheng Shaoyou hadn’t exactly stopped him. Mutual respect forged over three years, and the role of godfather to Huasheng, only went so far where familiarity and friendship was concerned. Their past clashes still shaped the foundation of their relationship, after all.

But he also couldn’t help but want Gao Tu by his side, where he should be. He wanted it known, Gao Tu was his. Not officially, not publicly, not yet, but Wenlang had no intention of letting him go again.

For Gao Tu, the last time he’d seen Hua Yong and Sheng Shaoyou, he’d still been Shen Wenlang’s secretary—efficient, distant, always a step behind. To appear after three years in Shen Wenlang’s front passenger seat so casually…

Lele being at school was a blessing, that would be a whole different set of questions.

He watched as Shen Wenlang shook his head, something quietly resolved behind his eyes, then looked down at their hands. His thumb rested against Gao Tu’s pulse point, the steady beat grounding him, before looking back up..

“Come with me.”

They both silently knew what going would mean. This was something else. That it wasn’t the proximity of a former employee and employer.

This was very different from walking Lele to school. Or going to the park. Or even being introduced to Song Feifei. Those moments existed in their own little bubble.

This was recognition of something deeper, in front of people who had known their former selves.

~~Ω~~

The drive had been quiet. Not with tension per se—but a weight that softly pressed down on them, not enough to suffocate, but enough to feel it. Gao Tu sat in the passenger seat, absentmindedly fiddling with the edge of his shirt. He tried to resort to his old method of distraction, thinking of work. It seemed Shen Wenlang’s own thought process was aligned.

“I never thought to ask. You translate documents, but have you ever been offered work in person?”

Gao Tu looked over at Shen Wenlang and his shoulders relaxed a little, finding the mutual distraction a blessing.

“Sometimes,” he nodded, “usually during conference calls these days. But sometimes there are business events where I’ve been asked by reoccurring clients if I can attend. Most of them are in country P or back in Jianghu though, so it’s usually when they are on business trips to Country V.”

A rather amusing, albeit mundane, memory cropped up in Shen Wenlang’s mind. He would never forget the first time he found out Gao Tu was able to not only understand but speak his native tongue.

It wasn’t a common habit for Shen Wenlang, one that only really came out during extreme bouts of anger or frustration, as seen when he found himself locked up in the Shen Manor with mate-seeking syndrome.

This particular moment had come not long after Gao Tu was transferred to his secretarial team, during a rare phone call with Hua Yong. It was the call where Hua Yong didn’t just suggest—he outright declared he’d be Shen Wenlang’s secretary when the time came, as part of his theatrical scheme to ensnare Sheng Shaoyou in love.

Shen Wenlang had outright blurted out ‘You’re fucking nuts!’ and he saw Gao Tu jump, looking at him with the scandalised professionalism of a mother hearing her child curse for the first time. Breaking his usually neutral, carefully schooled, expression when Shen Wenlang would have outbursts.

After that, Wenlang made a quiet habit of not taking Hua Yong’s calls in Gao Tu’s vicinity.

Brought back to the present, Shen Wenlang nodded with an ‘oh’, glancing to the side as he turned a corner to the hotel. In the distance they could see a car pulled up with someone already pulling suitcases out.

As they neared, it became clear Sheng Shaoyou was the one carrying Huasheng, while Hua Yong stood beside them, pinching his cheek.

He pulled up nearby and turned the engine off. That weight that had previously settled on them morphed into something indescribable, not quite anxiety and not quite awkwardness. Shen Wenlang turned to Gao Tu.

“I’ll be back in a minute; we won’t be long.”

Gao Tu nodded. He was quite happy to remain in the car, this was close enough.

That was a short-lived idea, when, as Shen Wenlang made his way over to Sheng Shaoyou and Huasheng, Hua Yong ignored Shen Wenlang and went straight over to Gao Tu. Shen Wenlang started to turn back, ready to intercept Hua Yong, but Huasheng’s shout of ‘Daddy Wenlang!’ pulled him around before he could.

Hua Yong bent forward towards the open window, his expression still as soft and gentle as Gao Tu remembered it.

“Gao Tu,” he smiled, “I was hoping you were coming with Wenlang. How have you been?”

Such casualness, not being referred to as ‘Secretary Gao’ both a comfort and jolt for the omega. Because Hua Yong wasn’t surprised by his presence. He returned a pleasant, almost shy, smile as he rubbed his palms against his knees.

“I’m doing well thank you. How have you been?”

Hua Yong’s eyes formed two crescents, expression warm, “very busy. We hadn’t planned to bring Peanut with us, but he wanted to come as soon as he found out we were coming to Country V.”

He watched as Hua Yong craned his neck to look in the back of the car before looking back at Gao Tu, “Gao Lele isn’t with you?”

Gao Tu’s eyes widened a fraction. It wouldn’t be a massive stretch to assume Hua Yong had known about Lele, Huasheng having probably mentioned meeting him. But the fact that he had hoped Gao Tu was with Wenlang, and Lele was with them—it would be idiotic to not assume that Hua Yong had indeed put some of the pieces together. Or, for reasons Gao Tu couldn’t fathom, Shen Wenlang had told him.

“He’s at school. We’ll be picking him up later.”

Hua Yong nodded, “Ah, that makes sense. Peanut having a new little friend has really made Mr Sheng happy. Wenlang won’t be looking after Peanut all the time, so I do hope we can arrange a chance to meet up, and all have lunch together.”

He knew that Hua Yong was involved with HS Group, even fronting the money for Shen Wenlang to start the company. But he couldn’t help a nagging question finally take form.

He had said there was nothing romantic between them. But thinking back, how many business associates would really go along with such a plan like Hua Yong’s? And an omega, something that Shen Wenlang had always been very vocal about his dislike of. Just what exactly was Shen Wenlang’s relationship with Hua Yong? The thought, now fully formed, niggled at his brain and wasn’t about to leave any time soon. His curiosity would never let this go until either it’s satisfied or eats him alive.

With a small slow nod, Gao Tu smiled, “Of course.”

Their attention turned back to Sheng Shaoyou and Wenlang as they headed over to put Huasheng’s car seat in. Sheng Shaoyou offered him a pleasant smile and nod, “Gao Tu.”

“President Sheng.” He nodded back.

Huasheng, still in Sheng Shaoyou’s arms, looked over at Gao Tu and grinned, waving at him. Returning the wave, he felt warm. The memories of that day on his doorstep coming over him again. Gao Tu was sure he’d never quite overcome the shocked embarrassment of Wenlang’s confession even if it took another ten or twenty years.

“Okay Peanut, time to go.” Sheng Shaoyou concluded, stepping past Shen Wenlang to put him in the car seat. “Remember to be on good behaviour until Wenlang brings you home.”

Huasheng nodded enthusiastically, sitting obediently as he was plugged in. Hua Yong turned his attention back to Gao Tu as Shen Wenlang opened the driver’s door and got back in, starting the car.

“I look forward to finally meeting Lele.” He waved to peanut and Gao Tu as they pulled away.

Huasheng chattered contently with the two grownups, swinging his legs mindlessly as he updated them on his life between now and when they were last together. Gao Tu mostly listened to the exchanges between the child and Wenlang but happily engage when called for, listen carefully and answering thoughtfully when needed. But his mind kept circling back to the curiosity that prickled just beneath his skin. It wasn’t a pressing question as such, more like a mental itch he kept half-scratching. And boy, did he want to scratch it.

One year after the break in contact.

Shen Wenlang saw Gao Tu on the wall of outstanding employees in his company's human resources department. For a moment, his mind went blank.

"Transfer this person to the Secretariat." Shen Wenlang said, "I want to see him in my office every day."

No matter how reluctant Shen Wenlang is to admit it, he had long been unable to adapt to the days when Gao Tu was no longer by his side.

Chapter Text

The big one refused to behave, and the small one wasn’t anymore obedient.

This father and son are both more wicked and more troublesome than each other.

The small one made Sheng Shaoyou feel ache with tenderness.

The big one brought a deeper, sore kind of pain. Yet both left him tainted with endless yearning.

Love and being loved are as addictive and as hard to quit as drug addiction.

~~Ω~~

After stopping on the way to pick up some drinks and snacks, Shen Wenlang, Gao Tu and Huasheng were once again back in the car on their way to picking Gao Lele up.

“Daddy Wenlang, when can we go to the aquarium?” Huasheng asked, holding his drink with both hands, chewing on his straw.

Shen Wenlang glanced up to the rearview mirror at him, “We’re going today. I still need to find out what day’s I’m looking after you are exactly.”

Gao Tu couldn’t help noticing the differences on how Shen Wenlang spoke to Huasheng versus Gao Lele more and more. With Lele, he was gentle and indulging. With Huasheng it was as if he was talking to someone a few years older.

“Papa said it’s the biggest aquarium in Country V,” Huasheng said curiously. “Will there be sharks?”

Before the alpha could reply, Huasheng had turned his attention to Gao Tu. If he wasn’t allowed to say ‘wife’ then he should at the very least respect familial hierarchy, right?

“Jiuma*, will Lele come with us?”

Gao Tu’s eyes nearly popped out of his head as Shen Wenlang slammed on the brakes, jolting all three forward in their seats. Gao Tu, now red as a tomato, shot a confused, albeit embarrassed, look at Shen Wenlang.

Shen Wenlang returned the look, silently mortified that the little Enigma’s spawn had found a loophole in his threat.

Slowly, both men turned to Huasheng—who sat there, the very picture of innocence.

“Peanut,” Shen Wenlang began, his tone straining for neutrality, “what did I say about being respectful?”

“I was being respectful, I didn’t say what you told me not to,” Peanut said, almost offended as he blinked innocently, he casually rubbed his eye as he spoke. “But ‘Uncle’ doesn’t really fit. Jiuma sounds more appropriate… or would it be Bomu*?… if you think about the family structure.”

He looked at Gao Tu. “Which is the right one?”

Gao Tu was at a loss for words, looking between Shen Wenlang and Huasheng.

The alpha wanted to groan out loud. This little demon! He was really weaponizing kinship terms to his benefit! He inhaled slowly, counting to three, for Gao Tu’s sake more than his own.

“Peanut,” he said, voice tight, “Gao Tu is your uncle.”

Gao Tu cleared his throat, trying to maintain an element of composure. Ultimately finding a flabbergasted humour in Huasheng’s dedication to being polite in his terms of address. His blush gave away more than he wanted.

“Huasheng—Lele has an aunt and uncle too but aren’t related. It’s appropriate to call them as such.”

The child blinked again, absorbing the explanation with careful consideration, “Ah, I see,” he said, nodding. “So, Uncle Gao Tu, is Lele coming with us?”

The car lurched forward again, the silence thick with lingering embarrassment.
Gao Tu cleared his throat once more, quieter this time, and fixed his gaze on the road as if looking for the end of a race.

“Yes,” he said eventually, voice strained but steady. “We’re picking Lele up now.”

Huasheng hummed, satisfied, and resumed chewing on his straw like nothing had happened.

Shen Wenlang gripped the wheel a little tighter.

The air in the car wasn’t quite tense—but it wasn’t relaxed either. It was the kind of atmosphere that came with trying not to laugh, trying not to cry, and trying very hard not to say anything else.

Pulling up outside of Lele’s school offered a small reprieve as Gao Tu leaped out the car with such speed one would think he was desperate for oxygen.

In truth he really wanted to laugh at the absolute absurdity of Huasheng’s words, but his embarrassment dampened it purely because he very much remembered Wenlang mentioning marriage when he had begged at his doorstep.

Meanwhile, the moment Gao Tu closed the door Shen Wenlang whipped his head round to Huasheng, looking at him accusingly. Huasheng, however, still maintained an innocent expression.

In little Peanut’s mind, he was simply helping Daddy Wenlang be happily in love with his runaway-now-found wife.

Hua Yong had given him strict instructions before leaving: observe Shen Wenlang and Gao Tu closely, because Daddy Wenlang was useless at love. Do a good job and he would make sure his papa could have a day off to spend time with Peanut all on his own!

Sheng Shaoyou had worn an expression that said “he’s just bribing you” and warned him not to meddle in other people’s business, but Huasheng truly loved his Daddy Wenlang and wanted him to be happy.

And! If Daddy Wenlang was happy, that meant Huasheng would always get to see his new playmate—Gao Lele!

Shen Wenlang couldn’t even find the words to reprimand him. By the time the sentence finally formed in his head, Gao Tu was already back at the car with Lele.

His hands remained tightly on the steering wheel, eyeing Huasheng from the rear-view mirror, ready to jump in if he were to say anything else. He refused to be caught off guard again.

Huasheng had already tuned Shen Wenlang out, chattering happily to Lele while Gao Tu settled him into his car seat.

Shen Wenlang closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He clung to the hope that Lele’s presence might steer Huasheng away from saying anything else awkward.

Gao Tu closed one door and opened the other, climbing back in. He looked at Wenlang.

“Right, ready.”

With a nod, he started the car back up and pulled away. The two children continued to engage in conversation while Shen Wenlang and Gao Tu were more reserved.

“How long is Hua Yong and President Sheng staying?” Gao Tu finally asked, keeping the conversation neutral. Safe.

Shen Wenlang changed gears, checking his side mirror as he changed lanes. His eyes didn’t leave the road, “They’re here for a couple of weeks but Peanut is going back after a week with the babysitter.”

In truth, Hua Yong had suggested Shen Wenlang look after Huasheng for that week alongside the entirety of this week. But Sheng Shaoyou vetoed it before Shen Wenlang even had the chance. Not wanting Huasheng’s routine to be too disrupted. Shen Wenlang knew exactly why the pair were staying for a week longer than Huasheng. It also explained why Huasheng smelled more strongly of orchids, bitter orange, and rum.

Huasheng, with keen ears, overheard his parent’s names mentioned and craned his neck with a pout.

“Yeah, Papa and Dad are staying to play when I go home.”

He leaned back in his seat and crossed his arms.

 “They always run away for a week to go play, it’s not fair.”

Gao Lele turned to Huasheng, tilting his head curiously, “They run away for a week?”

“Mn! Papa says it’s a business trip, but they don’t call much. I called Dad one time because Papa wasn’t answering, and he said Papa was too hungry to answer the phone then hung up! Papa wasn’t happy about it.”

“Peanut, let’s not talk about your parents’ plans right now.” Shen Wenlang quickly interjected.

In the front, Gao Tu turned bright red, looking out the window to hide the amused smile that had formed. Shen Wenlang cleared his throat, fidgeting in his seat.

They knew exactly what Huasheng was referring to—even if Huasheng himself didn’t. And neither of them were about to explain it either.

Shen Wenlang glanced at Gao Tu, who was still flushed and staring out the window determinedly.

“Huh…” Gao Lele thought out loud, “Papa doesn’t run away. But he does get sick for a week and hides in his room.”

The words landed with a clatter. Sudden and unexpected.

“Lele!” Gao Tu said quickly, the redness on his face deepening several shades as he turned around in his seat, “that’s enough.”

The little bun blinked. He wasn’t offended—just puzzled. Papa did get sick. Why was that wrong to say?

Gao Tu turned back and shrank into the seat, as if he could disappear into it by sheer force. The last thing he wanted was for Shen Wenlang to hear about his habits when it came to his heats.

Not when they hadn’t even talked about that night in particular.

Not when whatever was growing between them had begun to pulse—quiet, insistent, like a building fever that will inevitably have to break.

It wasn’t always there. Sometimes it receded, tucked behind routine, silence, and—like now—embarrassment.

But it never disappeared.

Shen Wenlang cleared his throat again, forcing away the flurry of thoughts that threatened to follow.

“We’re almost there.”

“Do they have sharks?” Huasheng piped up suddenly, leaning forward in his car seat.

“I want to see jellyfish,” Lele added, kicking his feet excitedly.

Gao Tu blinked, grateful for the interruption and the reprieve it bought him.

Shen Wenlang gave a small smile, the tension in his shoulders easing at the change in direction of the conversation.

“Let’s find out,” he said, turning into the car park. The sight of the large building, its exterior shaped like a wave, rose ahead, feeling like a light at the end of a long, awkward, and emotionally charged tunnel.

~~Ω~~

Inside the aquarium was darkly lit, contrasting the bright blue lights in the tanks, casting light on shimmering schools of fish as they swam around in their own world unaware. The hum of the filters and the distinct scent only found near water filled the air. It was a peaceful backdrop to Huasheng and Gao Lele who couldn’t take it all in and were darting from one tank to another, pointing out different species along with other sea creatures.

Shen Wenlang and Gao Tu followed behind them, their conversation subdued but casual while their attention was mostly on keeping an eye on the two bundles of energy ahead.

“Jiang Hu has recently opened a new eco-theme park-style aquarium.” Shen Wenlang said casually, looking around, “I haven’t been to an aquarium since I was little. Cai Hong, Hua Yong’s brother, took us both.” He looked up, trying to recall the memory.

“I was about nine or ten at the time. Neither of us wanted to go but Cai Hong insisted.”

Gao Tu looked back at Shen Wenlang, his previous curiosity piqued once again at the mention of Hua Yong and what his relationship with Shen Wenlang was.

“You’ve known Hua Yong a long time?” he asked carefully.

Wenlang nodded, posture relaxed. In his mind, it wasn’t a particularly interesting detail.

“Our omega parents were old friends.” He watched as Huasheng and Gao Lele tried to count the jellyfish in one of the tanks, “we weren’t close growing up. Cai Hong took over Hua Yong’s care when he was around six or seven.”

It was like opening a book and discovering a chapter missing.

Gao Tu realised, with a quiet jolt, how little he knew of Shen Wenlang’s life before school—just scattered fragments, bits of information here and there.

“You never mentioned Hua Yong before—at school or at work…” he said slowly, unsure how to press further.

“Hua Yong was still in Country P by the time I moved to Jiang Hu. The last time I saw him properly was when he became the head of X Holdings.”

Wenlang slipped his hands into his pockets.

Ying Yi had passed away a year before Wenlang found his excuse to leave the Shen household—applying to study in Jiang Hu.

His omega father was born in Jiang Hu and had been granted citizenship in Country P, and that connection made Wenlang’s move easier.

Less paperwork. Fewer questions.

A viable path out.

“After we graduated, I went back to Country P for a visit.” ‘An unwilling one but the last till three years ago.’, Wenlang added mentally.

“That’s when I asked Hua Yong for help to start a company in Jiang Hu. He fronted the money for it.”

A pause.

“In truth, Hua Yong has been a partner in HS Group longer than he’s been the head of X Holdings. He came to Jiang Hu but…we didn’t really meet up.”

More like Hua Yong was too busy creeping on Sheng Shaoyou to meet up with him.

It felt such a long time ago, now that Shen Wenlang thought about it. While Hua Yong continued to be a menace in his life, in an odd way he had been the most consistent besides Gao Tu. Not in the same way, but consistent.

It’s…such a strange form of a friendship.

Gao Tu looked at Wenlang, the words settling in slowly. Hearing Wenlang speak casually, almost dismissively, about shared childhoods and old family ties, the new context reframed Gao Tu’s worldview of Shen Wenlang and Hua Yong’s relationship

It wasn’t a past romance.

It wasn’t even just business hierarchy or corporate favours.

It was history.

A kind of history that explained why Wenlang, usually so measured, so steadfast and stubborn in his own choices, had gone along with Hua Yong’s theatrically elaborate plan to masquerade as an intern just to get close to Sheng Shaoyou.

It wasn’t loyalty, exactly.

It was debt—real, financial—and the weight of a years-long connection that Hua Yong knew how to lean on. The quiet pressure of history and obligation, threaded with a strange kind of friendship that naturally would form from so many years of knowing someone.

Gao Tu exhaled softly, he didn’t say anything at first and just watched Wenlang with a new kind of clarity. The puzzle pieces had finally clicked, not into a clean picture, but into something textured and real. Something that wasn’t as clouded in a fog.

Shen Wenlang stepped a little closer, hands in his pockets, gaze flicking briefly to Huasheng and Gao Lele still counting jellyfish.

“Papa!” Lele called out, pressing his face to the glass. “Peanut says jellyfish don’t have brains. If they don’t… How do they know where to go?”

“They don’t,” he said, walking over. “They just drift.”

Gao Tu followed, the moment folding into the present—quiet, but no longer heavy on his mind.

~~Ω~~

The group continued to drift around, Huasheng naming different species of fish and crustaceans while Lele asked questions. Eventually they stumbled on the seahorse exhibit.

Huasheng’s face was almost smushed against the glass as he said very seriously, “Papa said seahorses mate for life.”

Lele blinked and pressed his face to the glass too to get a better look, “what if one dies?” he asked.

“Then it gets really sad and won’t eat and live in a state of mel—melancholy.” Huasheng summoned the word from memory, each syllable careful and slow, like he didn’t want to get it wrong. He placed both hands against the glass and pulled away, his lips forming a firm line as he looked at the seahorses intently. “I think Dad was a seahorse with Papa in a past life.”

“Why?” Lele asked. He didn’t pull away from the glass, eyes tracking the slow drift of a seahorse, its bright yellow colouring a contrast against the blue.

“Because my dad always says he can’t live without papa.”

Only then did Lele finally pull away and look at Huasheng curiously. He’d never questioned why he had only his papa and no dad—too young to understand biology beyond ‘I came out of Papa’s belly.’ But Huasheng’s words planted something new, the information morphing in his little mind. A quiet thought, rising like a bubble:

Where was his Papa’s mate?

Was that why Papa got sick so often?

Behind them, Gao Tu and Shen Wenlang stood in silence, watching the tank. The seahorses floated in lazy spirals, but Wenlang’s gaze had shifted—no longer on the creatures, but on the reflection in the glass.

He and Gao Tu stood side by side. Whole—complete with Lele in front of them.

Gao Tu turned his head to look at Shen Wenlang, taking in his profile. The expression he wore was soft, contemplative and yet peaceful. That same softness he was already growing so used to that was reserved only for him.

The kind of softness that made his heart feel like it was not only wanted…

But cherished.

He blinked slowly, his lips curving into the soft line of a contented smile as he looked back at the tank.

And—carefully, slowly—he looped his pinkie finger with Shen Wenlang’s.
A silent permission. A reassurance. A moment of choosing.

They had maintained a careful distance throughout the day—Gao Tu, for Lele’s sake, still unaware of Wenlang’s connection to him or the quiet shift unfolding between them.

Wenlang, because Huasheng was developing a habit of reporting everything to Hua Yong with theatrical flair.

They hadn’t called it anything. Just a day out.

But the silence between them held more than the children’s laughter could drown.

The small touches, subtle and deliberate. A quiet indulgence, a moment of closeness quietly claimed in the space where the children’s attention had wandered elsewhere.

Gao Tu felt Shen Wenlang’s finger wrap around his own. His index finger brushed ever so lightly against Gao Tu’s, eyes still fixed on their reflection. Though now, his gaze had shifted to the reflection of their hands.

Their little moment of intimacy was cut short when Gao Lele turned round and ran towards Gao Tu and wrapped his arms tightly around the Omega’s legs, hiding his face. Gao Tu let go of Shen Wenlang and rested his hands on Lele’s shoulders, crouching down to look at him. Lele’s expression was solemn as Huasheng followed over, looking a little confused.

“What’s wrong?” Gao Tu asked, stroking Lele’s hair comfortingly.

“Papa.” He said slowly, hesitating for a beat before looking up, his eyes almost glassy. “Do you get sick because you don’t have a mate?”

Gao Tu’s hand stilled in Lele’s hair. The question hung between them and for a moment, he didn’t know what to say.

He blinked, eyes flicking briefly toward Shen Wenlang, as if the question exposed the elephant in the room that was their history, Lele’s conception. But Wenlang didn’t move. He seemed just as frozen as Gao Tu.

Huasheng turned his head to the side, “Uncle Gao Tu gets sick?”

Gao Lele looked over at Huasheng, nodding seriously, “Like seahorses when their mate dies.”

Gao Tu’s shoulders relaxed, and he tried not to let out a laugh, realising where Gao Lele’s logic had come from. Instead, Gao Tu smiled faintly, trying to ease the weight of the moment.

“I’m not a seahorse.” Gao Tu smoothed Lele’s hair again, gently, buying time with the motion. His voice, when it came, was soft, careful. Lele, too young to understand the full truth, only needed something gentle. “I get sick sometimes because I didn’t have someone like you to look after me properly when I was small.”

“Really?” Gao Lele asked, his expression mixed with question and sadness.

Gao Tu’s lips formed a tight line, but his nod was confident and reassuring, “Mn, really.”

Lele leaned into him, wrapping his arms around Gao Tu’s neck, “Lele will always look after papa.”

Gao Tu smiled warmly, patting at his hair. “I know. Lele is very good at taking care of papa.”

Wenlang’s gaze lingered on Gao Tu, a gentle, unreadable thing; then Huasheng tugged his sleeve.

Hua Sheng bit his lip and looked up at Shen Wenlang, his voice hushed, “I didn’t think Lele would think Uncle Gao Tu was like a sea horse.”

~~Ω~~

The rest of their visit passed with minimal disruption. Gao Lele, now reassured that Gao Tu was indeed not like a seahorse, continued to run around with Huasheng happily. The pair even took photos to share, particularly with Sheng Shaoyou. It was Huasheng who asked for a picture with both Gao Tu and Gao Lele, his voice shy but clear.

Later, Shen Wenlang caught a quieter moment: just omega and son, bathed in the soft deep blue light of one of the aquarium tanks. Gao Lele sat astride Gao Tu’s lap, arms wrapped tightly around him, their bodies pressed close in a wordless knot of trust. Shen Wenlang didn’t interrupt, didn’t ask them to pose. He simply lifted his phone and took the photo, casual and almost offhanded, yet careful enough to preserve something tender and unspoken.

Huasheng was sat next to Shen Wenlang, once again swinging his legs contently, watching Gao Tu and Gao Lele, feeling rather envious. He loved snuggling with his papa but his childish dad would always get jealous!

Shen Wenlang looked at his phone, seeing a message from Sheng Shaoyou, “We’ll have to drop Peanut off back at the hotel soon.”

Gao Tu hummed in acknowledgment, his hand absently stroking Lele’s back. The boy had gone still, cheek pressed to his chest, lulled by the low thrum of water and the steady rise and fall of breath. Huasheng leaned over, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Uncle Gao Tu, can I sit with you too?”

Gao Tu glanced at Shen Wenlang, momentarily stunned, but not dismissive, just not expecting Huasheng to make such a request. Shen Wenlang watched the scene unfold, not quite sure what to make of the situation.

With a nod, Gao Tu rested his hand on Lele’s back and shifted carefully to one side, making room. Huasheng jumped off the bench and walked around Shen Wenlang before he climbed up carefully, settling beside them, his small body warm against Gao Tu’s arm as he looked at Gao Lele, as if checking if he had fell asleep. For a moment, the three of them sat like that—quiet, close, suspended in the blue lighting.

Shen Wenlang watched them, something unreadable flickering across his face. Then he tucked his phone away and tilted his head.

“Five more minutes,” he said, voice gentle. “Then we’ll go.”

Lele didn’t respond, but his grip tightened slightly, as if trying to resist the tiredness that clung to his eyes.

Gao Tu looked down at Lele, then at Huasheng, whose hand had found its way to the hem of his sleeve. The boy wasn’t clinging, exactly, just anchoring himself, as if reluctant to leave just yet.

In honesty, Huasheng had heard his parents talk about Gao Tu before. Not about him running away, but what he was like as a person. Papa had said Gao Tu was a very efficient worker and his dad said his Daddy Wenlang didn’t realise how fortunate he was to have someone close to him who could put up with his prickly personality.

From Huasheng’s observation, Gao Tu was a very nice omega who smelled of sage. He liked that Gao Tu, like Shen Wenlang, didn’t treat him like a miniature ambassador for his family.

Some adults—particularly ones who knew his papa or dad professionally—would lean in too close, speak too sweetly, or laugh at things that weren’t funny, trying to win favour through him. But Gao Tu didn’t do that. He didn’t pretend to be impressed or give him too much attention just to be remembered. He liked that Gao Tu didn’t try to be liked. He just was. And somehow, that made Huasheng want to sit beside him a little longer.

Dad was right, Daddy Wenlang was an idiot for letting him escape! He really was lucky to have such a wife!

Eventually, they had to leave. Gao Tu carried Gao Lele, thoroughly exhausted after a day of school and playing at the aquarium with Huasheng. He was fast asleep before they even reached the car. Huasheng held onto Shen Wenlang’s hand, letting himself be led back to the car without protest. When they reached the door, he lifted his arms automatically, waiting for the alpha to buckle him in. The energy of the day was finally starting to drain from his limbs, leaving behind a soft, satisfied tiredness.

The ride back was quiet. The car hummed softly beneath them, a low, steady sound that filled the silence without disturbing it. Huasheng had already begun to nod off, his head tilted towards the window, and Lele was deeply asleep, his breath slow and even. He hadn’t even stirred when Gao Tu buckled him in.

Shen Wenlang kept his eyes on the road, but occasionally would catch himself glancing over to Gao Tu. His hands rested in his lap and his head tilted to the side slightly, looking as if he himself was about to doze off.

The shift in lighting as they pulled into the underground carpark made Gao Tu stir, sitting up after unknowingly slumping in his seat. Sheng Shaoyou was already stood waiting for them as Shen Wenlang pulled up, not turning the car off before getting out.

Huasheng blinked, having dozed off, his eyes still heavy with sleep. He perked up when he spotted Sheng Shaoyou as he opened the door.

Sheng Shaoyou unclipped him and lifted him out, and Huasheng rested his cheek on his alpha father’s shoulder, glancing back to see Lele still asleep before nestling against Sheng Shaoyou’s neck.

“Where’s Hua Yong?” Shen Wenlang dared to ask. The expression on his face, out of view from Gao Tu, was tight. As if waiting for Hua Yong to pop up out of nowhere.

Sheng Shaoyou almost looked sympathetic. Almost. “He’s on a call with Chang Yu while cooking dinner.”

Shen Wenlang let a breath go that sounded dangerously like relief. He wasn’t in the mood for Hua Yong’s antics, especially with both Gao Tu and Lele in the car.

Sheng Shaoyou’s gaze drifted past him, settling on Gao Tu still seated inside. He bent forward, still cradling Huasheng as he greeted the omega and gave him a small warm smile.

“Thank you for taking care of Peanut with Shen Wenlang today.”

Gao Tu nodded, “It’s not a problem. He is very well behaved and gets along well with Lele.”

At the mention of Gao Lele, Sheng Shaoyou peeked in the back at the sleeping child. His expression was soft, eyes quickly flicking to Shen Wenlang before straightening up, “Please tell him Peanut is grateful for spending time together.”

They exchanged a few more pleasantries before finally bidding Sheng Shaoyou farewell. As he headed towards the elevator, Huasheng lifted his head and tiredly waved to them.

Shen Wenlang got back into the driver’s seat and closed the door, shoulders relaxing and head against the headrest as he took a moment to just enjoy the car being filled with Gao Tu and Lele. Gao Tu looked at him.

“Is something the matter?” He asked, voice low to avoid waking up Lele.

Shen Wenlang turned his head to look at him. The day had been full—unexpected conversations, small joys—but it all quieted at the sight of Gao Tu beside him, the memory of Lele curled against him captured in the picture on his phone.

“Let’s go home.”

Gao Tu’s expression remained soft, tiredness pulling at his eyes as he nodded.

“Let’s go home.” He echoed.

Chapter Text

"Gao Tu's father said that Gao Tu is pregnant and the baby is mine." Shen Wenlang stated the facts word by word. When he mentioned Gao Ming, his voice became even colder: "Gao Ming said that if I want Gao Tu to abort the baby, I have to give him 10 million."

"Ten million?" When Hua Yong received the call, he was wearing an apron and making soup for Sheng Shaoyou in the kitchen.

Hearing this, he put down his spoon and said disdainfully, "That Gao Ming has no concept of money, right? He has such a huge bargaining chip in his hand, and he wants to blackmail you. It must be at least 100 million? Ten million? This is simply an insult to you."

"Hua Yong!" Shen Wenlang interrupted him hysterically: "Now is not the time to joke!"

"Oh, okay." Hua Yong tasted the soup and asked curiously, "Do you agree?"

"Agree to what?!" Shen Wenlang was even more devastated: "Agree to give him 10 million and let Gao Tu abort my child?"

~~Ω~~

After arriving home, Song Feifei had already been preparing dinner. The female omega turned when she heard the door open, “You’re home! I was just about to call. Dinner will be ready in ten minutes.”

Gao Tu was the first to walk in, carrying Lele, still out like a light. Shen Wenlang had once again been invited over and appeared from behind the pair. Her eyes brightened at the sight of the alpha.

“Mr Shen, I have something to discuss with you later if that’s okay?”

Gao Tu and Shen Wenlang looked at each other before he looked back at her and nodded, closing the door behind him. Gao Tu nuzzled Gao Lele’s cheek, softly coaxing him awake.

Two large sleepy eyes opened and looked around, not realising they had reached home. He mumbled half-asleep, “Papa…”

Gao Tu leaned back just enough to look at Lele properly, “Let’s have dinner then bath, okay?”

He nodded and rubbed his eyes, slowly starting to wake up, “I didn’t say goodbye to Peanut…”

Shen Wenlang reached up and patted his hair, “You’ll see him again soon.”

He nodded again, letting Gao Tu carry him to the sofa and set him down. Song Feifei returned to the kitchen, her movements practiced and quiet, the scent of steamed fish and ginger filling the room. Shen Wenlang followed her in, glancing over as Gao Tu settled beside Lele, coaxing him fully awake with soft words. Gao Lele blinked slowly, still drowsy, his head tipping now and then toward Gao Tu’s shoulder as he gradually woke up.

While Gao Tu was distracted with Lele, Shen Wenlang lingered near the stove, feigning interest in the simmering dishes. In a low voice, he asked, “What do you need to discuss?”

Song Feifei’s movements didn’t hesitate as she turned the stove off. But she did pause before replying.

“Ma Heng.”

Instantly, Shen Wenlang’s mood shifted between sour and inquisitive. He hadn’t yet come face to face with that alpha. Not for lack of imagining it. But knew it was not a case of ‘if’ but ‘when’ they’d eventually have to be sat in the same breathing space.

If Shen Wenlang had it his way, he’d kick that alpha out and have him mysteriously disappear.

Or better yet, he’d do a moonlight flit with Gao Tu and Lele and leave that apricot scented fruit salad in the dust. But he couldn’t—

He shifted his weight and turned to glance back at Gao Tu and Gao Lele again.

Because it mattered to Gao Tu.

It mattered that Ma Heng was a part of his life, and it mattered that he was part of Lele’s. The last three years of their past, Lele’s entire life, was so tightly entwined that even after knowing Gao Tu for longer, it was still a bond that wasn’t fickle or weak.

He simply nodded at Song Feifei silently. Offering to help take dishes to the dining table.

Dinner passed in a warm hush, Lele had fully woken up and contently ate sat in Gao Tu’s lap. When Lele began to yawn again, Gao Tu scooped him up and headed down the hall for a bath, leaving Shen Wenlang and Song Feifei alone in the quiet that remained.

Once they heard the door to the bathroom close, Shen Wenlang looked at Song Feifei.

“So—"

“Ma Heng has agreed that it is about time you and him properly met.”

Shen Wenlang squared his shoulders, sitting up straighter without meaning to. Even if he was well versed in keeping a neutral face for business—he looked like he just swallowed a bee.

The tone in her voice certainly did not suggest that this was Ma Heng’s idea.

“Gao Tu’s birthday is coming up. And I don’t want Gao Tu to feel he has to pick sides.” Song Feifei’s voice softened, looking at Shen Wenlang, “And I don’t believe you and Ma Heng want that either.”

This much was true. And was probably the only thing him and Ma Heng would ever have in common.

“Not to mention, we’re celebrating Lele’s birthday as well.” Her words were simple, but their meaning carried the weight of a mountain.

His mind was pulled back.

The day that was meant to be Gao Lele’s birthday.

~~Ω~~

Shen Wenlang hadn’t heard from Gao Tu, and to his surprise, when he knocked on the door, Song Feifei was the one to answer it. She kept her voice low.

“Mr Shen, Gao Tu is with Lele in his room.” She glanced into the apartment, then back at him, “It’s Lele’s birthday. Gao Tu’s upset we can’t celebrate.”

His stomach clenched, sharp and sudden. He hadn’t known Lele’s birthday. Gao Tu had never said, and he’d never thought to ask. Just one of those details that had slipped through his mind like sand slipping through fingers.

The hallway felt colder suddenly, as if the missed detail had opened up a chasm.

In that moment, he felt wretched with himself.

This soul-crunching revelation must have been clear on his face, because Song Feifei looked at him with a complex expression.

Shen Wenlang didn’t say anything. Just nodded once, barely, and turned away.

He walked back down the hallway and towards his car, the soles of his shoes making no sound. Outside, the air felt thin, as if the world had inhaled and forgotten to breathe back out. He silently got in the car, and checked his phone for bakeries, looking over at the photos each one used to promote their business. Finding one he liked, he pulled out, not noticing Song Feifei was still at the door, watching him.

The drive wasn’t long. Whether that was from distance or the speed Shen Wenlang drove, it wasn’t clear. What was clear was the sharp pull into the carpark and the sound of the door slamming shut, Wenlang not sparing a single glance as he went towards a fancy looking bakery, its front window lined with cakes for every occasion, brightly illuminated with spotlights and seasonal flowers.

Inside, he pointed to a small cake—nothing elaborate, just soft sponge and pale frosting, with an array of fruits pressed into the top and around the edges.

“Would you like a message piped onto the side?” the assistant, a youthful omega man, asked, nodding towards another member of staff to fetch the cake out of the display case.

“Happy Birthday Lele” he said, almost solemnly, mechanically. He glanced over the counter and spotted little gift tags tied to boxes that weren’t the plain standard ones, the pearlescent cardboard embossed with patterns. He nodded over to them, “One of those as well.”

The omega asked what message to write on it and Shen Wenlang shook his head to keep it blank, unable to bear the shame of someone else seeing the words that needed to be written on it.

He paid in silence, carried it back in the box they gave him, the string handle cutting faintly into his fingers as he returned to the car and carefully set it on the seat next to him. He pulled out a pen and looked at the gift tag for a long moment.

The guilt sat heavy in his stomach, enough to make him nauseous. He knew this wasn’t enough. And when Lele was well again, he was determined to make it up to both Gao Tu and Lele.

When he returned, he didn’t knock right away. He stood outside the door for a moment, listening before finally knocking.

Once again, Song Feifei answered. Her expression didn’t read surprised as she looked at him, her eyes trailed down the box in his hand. There was a ghost of a smile as she stepped by to let him in.

Without stopping, he carefully placed the cake on the dining table and sought out his omega and child.

Song Feifei closed the front door and quietly wandered over to the cake. She didn’t stop Shen Wenlang as he vanished down the hallway. She flipped over the tag to read what it said.

‘For Lele, Happy Birthday.
For Gao Tu,
I should have known.
I missed what mattered. I’m sorry.’’

Shen Wenlang saw Lele’s door was open, but the room empty. Gao Tu’s door almost completely closed, only a small crack enough for the scent of sage to seep through. He stepped carefully towards it, pushing it open carefully.

On the bed laid Gao Lele, curled up in a ball. And curled up around him, Gao Tu—protectively holding the small sleeping form in his arms.

Shen Wenlang stepped into the room without a sound.

The light was low, the only source a small bedside lamp. On the bed, Gao Tu and Lele lay curled together, their breathing slow and synchronised, the kind of sleep born from exhaustion rather than peace.

He stood there for a long moment, unsure if he was allowed to be part of this. But something in the quiet—something in the way Gao Tu’s body curved protectively around Lele, remembering Song Feifei’s words—made him move.

He carefully sat on the edge of the bed and reached over, stroking Lele’s hair softly before pulling back and resting his hand on Gao Tu’s shoulder.

The rise and fall of Gao Tu’s chest was rhythmic, soothing. His face peaceful pulled under sleep. He hadn’t even removed his glasses.

With careful movements, Shen Wenlang reached down and took them off for him, placing them on the side table and looked at Gao Tu again. He wanted to curl up behind him, pulling omega and child close and not let them go.

But he felt like he wasn’t allowed to, not just yet. Instead he leaned down and pressed a kiss against Gao Tu’s temple.

~~Ω~~

Shen Wenlang’s eyes refocused on Song Feifei as he returned to the present. He knew how important this was to Gao Tu. And while he didn’t like the idea of being around Ma Heng. He would bear it—for Gao Tu’s sake.

His jaw still tightened as he thought about it though.

“Fine.”

He couldn’t stop the spike of irritation as he continued, “I won’t be rude as long as he isn’t.”

Song Feifei started stacking the dishes on the table as she spoke, “Ma Heng isn’t rude, just protective.”

 Shen Wenlang’s mouth twitched, wanting to frown.

“He was the one who said—” Feifei cut him off with a look.

Her expression was akin to a teacher pointing out he was the one who broke the toy. She wasn’t against Shen Wenlang and hoped things would continue smoothly for Gao Tu. But her limits on badmouthing Ma Heng didn’t go far.

“No. Don’t start that. You’re the one who decided to bully him after appearing out of nowhere. Either learn to get along or you’ll just make things hard for Gao Tu and Lele.”

He exhaled through his nose, slow. It took a measured effort to reign his attitude in. The mantra ‘For Gao Tu’ repeating in his mind.

“All right.” Was all he could manage again.

She looked at him again, stacking the last bowl with a smile. “That wasn’t so hard was it.”

For Feifei Gao Tu had fully filled her in on the details of their past at this point. Blank spots where Shen Wenlang had been erased, now filled in. For example, Gao Ming. Before this, Gao Tu had only said his alpha father was dangerous; now Feifei knew the shape of the danger—how he’d tried to buy off a debt with his own pregnant omega son. Shen Wenlang was meant to be the buyer. And if he wasn’t going to get it from Shen Wenlang, he was going to get Gao Tu as his payment. Even now, just thinking about it, sent shivers up Song Feifei’s spine.

Feifei’s voice softened. “Honestly, do you think butting heads with Ma Heng really going to get you anywhere? You might find you two would get on.”

Shen Wenlang definitely didn’t believe that. He didn’t need to say anything for Song Feifei to assume what he was probably thinking.

“I’ve spoken to Ma Heng and now I’m speaking to you. This is for Gao Tu so he can have a nice birthday surrounded by people who care about him.”

Wenlang’s jaw tightened again as he spoke, “Fine. When does he want to meet.”

She stood up with a smile and picked up the bowls, her movements quiet and practiced.

“He’ll be free at the weekend. Then we can make plans for Gao Tu’s birthday after.”

He resisted a tsk and nodded reluctantly.

The bathroom door opened and Lele ran out in green pyjamas, his hair still damp. He clambered onto the sofa and waited obediently for Gao Tu to follow so he could dry it.
Shen Wenlang turned his head and watched Gao Tu enter, a hair dryer in hand. He wore that familiar look of parental love — unyielding and gentle. It was the same expression Shen Wenlang loved to see so much.

Song Feifei placed the bowls in the sink and went over to Gao Tu as he was plugging the dryer in, “I’m going in shower then heading to bed. I’ve left the dishes for you.”

He made a noise of acknowledgement, “See you tomorrow.”

“Night night Auntie Feifei!” Gao Lele chirped, turning his body away crossing his legs, waiting for Gao Tu.

Shen Wenlang nodded to Song Feifei, glancing over only briefly before watching Gao Tu and Gao Lele again.

Gao Tu sat on the sofa, one leg tucked beneath him so he could sit behind Lele, and turned the dryer on. He blew the air against his hand first to check it wasn’t too hot before proceeding to dry Lele’s hair.

There was something deeply peaceful about the pair in their own world — like Shen Wenlang was a ghost, watching from the outside in. He rested his cheek against his hand, watching them with quiet contentment.

Even after Lele’s hair was dry, Gao Tu playfully swept the dryer over him, pretending the rest of him needed drying too. Lele giggled and twisted around, flinging his arms around Gao Tu’s neck and sending them tumbling gently backwards onto the sofa.

Gao Tu laughed, Shen Wenlang smiled. And for a quiet moment—all their history melted away just for this moment.

After turning the dryer off, Gao Tu scooped Lele up in his arms, “Okay, time to sleep.”

Gao Lele nodded, resting his chin on Gao Tu’s shoulder.

“Say night to Wenlang.”

Gao Lele was quiet for a moment, eyes flicking toward Wenlang, then back to Gao Tu. Thinking.

Finally, he said, “Night night Daddy Wenlang.”

The air felt suddenly thick, like the moment before a storm breaks.

If Huasheng calling Gao Tu ‘Jiuma’ was like a plate smashing. Gao Lele calling Shen Wenlang ‘Daddy Wenlang’ was like throwing a grenade into a cup of water.

Gao Tu’s gaze snapped to Wenlang instinctively, his face draining, breath caught. Like the sensation of dreaming you’re on the edge of a cliff about to fall off, only to wake up but the feeling of one’s heartbeat still in your ears.

Shen Wenlang blinked. His mind blanked out, like a room suddenly stripped of furniture. Not Huasheng, not just someone else, but his own child, calling him ‘Daddy Wenlang’. The word ‘daddy’ from Lele’s mouth lit something in his chest—warm enough to burn, to power him through even the harshest of winters.

Gao Tu forced a chuckle, trying to look unfazed as he asked, “Lele, why are you calling him that?”

Lele blinked and looked between the pair of adults, “Peanut said Mr Shen was too formal.”

Gao Tu looked between Shen Wenlang and Gao Lele helplessly. This had been one of those scenarios Gao Tu had wrestled with in his mind multiple times. What exactly was Gao Lele meant to call Shen Wenlang?

Shen Wenlang closed his eyes and drew in a very long breath.

Yes, he was Gao Lele’s dad; but he still hadn’t actually told Lele that. More as a protective measure than anything. For both himself and for Lele. But indeed, ‘Mr Shen’ did feel overly formal for a child. Uncle had seemed the safest option.

‘Daddy Wenlang’ was most certainly not in the considered options.

“Peanut calls him that because that’s his godfather.” Gao Tu said gently, glancing over to Shen Wenlang, cautiously almost. “Wenlang is your neighbour.”

Gao Lele’s bottom lip protruded as he thought about this as Shen Wenlang stood up and made his way over. Gao Tu watched him approach, like prey sensing the shift in wind, unsure if it meant danger or shelter.

“Night night baby.” He murmured.

Gao Tu didn’t press the matter, readjusting Lele in his arms as he cleared his throat as it tightened with a quiet shyness—Lele had called Wenlang ‘Daddy’, and the word hung between them like a secret exposed too soon.

“Let’s get you to bed.” He said softly.

He turned and made his way down the hall, passing by the sound of Feifei still in the bathroom, not daring to check if Shen Wenlang was following them as he nudged Lele’s bedroom door handle down with his elbow and pushed it open with his foot, the soft creak sounding louder than it should. He kept his voice soft as he said, “Alright, into bed.”

Lele wriggled down from his arms, the weight of him gone but the warmth lingering.

He padded over to the bed and climbed in, pulling the blanket up to his chin and Gao Tu sat on the edge beside him, smoothing the blanket over his chest, fingers lingering a moment too long.

From the hallway, the floorboards gave a faint creek—Wenlang hadn’t left. But Gao Tu didn’t look up to see if he was at the door, his attention focused on Lele.

“Did you have fun today?” he asked softly.

Lele nodded, snuggling deeper into the blanket and Gao Tu patted the blanket in a light rhythm. The routine of putting Lele to bed eased his nerves.

“We’ll visit there again.” He promised as he leaned down and pressed a kiss against Lele’s hair, whispering, “Sleep well, baby.”

Lele’s breathing began to slow, the rhythm of sleep taking hold. Gao Tu stood, hesitated, then turned toward the door. He stepped out and closed it behind him with deliberate softness.

Outside the door, Wenlang hadn’t moved. Gao Tu could feel him there—like a held breath. Waiting.

Gao Tu stood quiet, unsure whether to speak or leave the silence intact. It felt fragile, like breath on glass.

“He’s just copying Peanut,” he said at last, voice low. “I just… didn’t know what else to say.”

He felt guilty; Shen Wenlang was Lele’s father, and hearing the name—so casual, so sudden—it pulled the truth… into the open. Lele had done it himself without even knowing.

“He’ll know eventually. It’s just…” His voice faltered, vulnerability seeping in.

Wenlang’s shoulders eased—just a fraction—but it softened his whole posture. Anxious tension that had unknowingly built, eased.

Gao Tu wasn’t denying the truth; he’d simply been unprepared, Lele making everything oddly, unmistakably real. Soothing pheromones and gentle attention were one thing. But Lele, unaware, calling him “Daddy Wenlang”—that was something else entirely.

It wasn’t denial. Just the quiet ache of not being ready. Not for Lele’s questions. And certainly not for the answers.

Shen Wenlang reached out, touching his wrist.

“Will he really know eventually?” He asked, not questioning whether Gao Tu was being honest. But seeking solid reassurance. That the soft pause between becoming and being that they had found themselves in wouldn’t always just encompass them.

Gao Tu gave a small nod. Not rushed. Not pacifying. Just enough to say yes—Lele would know. Eventually.

Gao Tu’s hesitation wasn’t distrust—it was reflex. Muscle memory from a time when things had been sharper, less safe, less reassured.

Wenlang’s thumb moved, a slow stroke against his skin. Gao Tu slowly looked up at him, the stillness between them crowded with feelings. And both of them found they weren’t quite ready to step away from it just yet.

The spell broke when Feifei pulled the bathroom door open, dressed in pyjamas and towel-drying her hair.

She was in her own world until she spotted the pair standing outside Lele’s room.

“Is Lele asleep?” she whispered.

Gao Tu gently slipped his wrist from Shen Wenlang’s hand and folded his own fingers together in front of him, almost looking innocent as he nodded with a small smile.

Feifei blinked, towel paused mid-motion. Her gaze flicked from Gao Tu’s folded hands to Shen Wenlang’s softened posture, then back again.

She didn’t say anything more.

Just offered a small nod, the kind that said I see you, without asking for explanation.

“Good night,” she murmured, almost to herself, and stepped across the hall toward her room.

They watched her close the door with a soft click and only then did Shen Wenlang look back to Gao Tu.

“Are you coming over tonight?” he asked gently. It had been over a week since Gao Tu had been over. And after today’s events, he missed it more than anything.

Gao Tu hesitated. Not because he didn’t want to. Because wanting had never been the problem. It was because he wanted so much and yet hesitancy always got in the way.

Just like now, not just today, but a week without time being alone. In a bed away from the world. In a world that was intimately close and private.

Because that feeling, the one that always quietly bubbled under the surface, was still there.

A slow-burning tension between them—marked by hesitant desire and restrained proximity—building toward an inevitable, irrevocable moment of emotional rupture. One that would lead to a physical boundary being crossed that had only been crossed once before.

Not when whatever was growing between them had begun to pulse—quiet, insistent, like a building fever that will inevitably have to break.

Shen Wenlang reached out again, slower this time, letting his fingers brush the back of Gao Tu’s hand.

Yet, despite the feeling of hesitation, he still nodded his head.

Because even in hesitation, yearning still can press forward.

Shen Wenlang slipped his hand into Gao Tu’s glancing briefly at Song Feifei’s bedroom door before looking back and speaking quietly, “I’ll go back first.”

Gao Tu didn’t move when Shen Wenlang stepped back before turning and heading down the hallway. He could still feel the warmth of Wenlang’s hand, the way it had fit into his as he heard the open and close of the front door.

He rubbed where he had touched, like massaging lotion into his skin as he quickly stepped into his own room. He knew Feifei would be asleep soon, but he still wasn’t quite ready to be caught in the act of sneaking out.

Changing into more comfortable clothes helped keep his nerves at bay. A churn of conflicting emotions and instincts making his body almost shake. He sat on the edge of his bed for a moment, clothes changed, heart still unsettled.

Gao Tu stood and stepped out of his room, toward the front door, then paused again. His hand hovered near the doorknob, fingers flexing once, twice. Then, with a quiet breath, he opened it and slipped out.

Shen Wenlang: "You have three minutes to call back immediately, otherwise you will bear the consequences."

Shen Wenlang: "It's been three hours, Gao Tu, are you dead?"

Shen Wenlang: "Reply!"

Shen Wenlang: "What's wrong with you? Are you safe? Why didn't you answer the phone?"

Shen Wenlang: "Gao Tu! Reply!"

Shen Wenlang: "What's going on? Gao Tu, please reply to my message and let me know you're safe."

~~EXTRA~~

Gao Tu and Shen Wenlang were distracted by a plaque on the far side of the tank. Gao Lele, meanwhile, had his eyes glued to a crab crawling over the sand in one of the aquariums. He tapped the glass curiously.

“What’s Mr Shen’s favourite sea creature.” He wondered out loud, considering asking.

Huasheng had also been staring at the crabs, watching one crawl over another, when he looked at Gao Lele.

“Why do you call Daddy Wenlang Mr Shen?”

Gao Lele turned and looked back at Huasheng, blinking. “Because it’s polite.”

Shaking his head solemnly, remembering his previous conversation with the two grown-ups.

“Correct forms of address are important,” he thought back to Gao Tu’s words, “It must be appropriate.”

The other child bit his lip, trying to think what else he could call Mr Shen. He had heard Auntie Feifei call him Mr Shen, so how could it not be appropriate?

Huasheng, on the other hand, was confused. Daddy Wenlang had told him to call Gao Tu “Uncle,” and Uncle Gao Tu had explained that Lele’s aunt and uncle weren’t actually related. He pondered this, then connected the dots in his little mind: Daddy Wenlang wasn’t his own dad, but he was still called “Daddy Wenlang” because they were close. And Gao Lele couldn’t be any closer to Daddy Wenlang—he was Uncle Gao Tu’s son! So there was only one logical option.

“Call him Daddy Wenlang!”

Gao Lele blinked at Huasheng, clearly not having made the same connection as him. He sighed dramatically at this silly bun, “Dad said Daddy Wenlang is always at your house, right? So, you see him very often. I call Daddy Wenlang ‘Daddy Wenlang’ even though he isn’t my dad. Daddy Wenlang is very close to your papa so it would make sense to call him Daddy Wenlang too!”

Little Huasheng, despite being unusually intelligent for his age, was still a child. He hadn’t yet realised that if Gao Tu was Shen Wenlang’s ‘runaway wife,’ and Gao Lele was Gao Tu’s son—then Shen Wenlang must be Gao Lele’s dad.

Chapter Text

The politician from Country P was a heavy drinker, and at the end of the dinner he even dragged Shen Wenlang to drink a lot. Shen Wenlang was anxious to get away and find someone, so he drank one cup after another very quickly, and in the end his memory was blurred and his mind was muddled. Even more unfortunate was that he seemed to have rolled into bed with an omega in heat while he was unconscious.

Although it was said that they were going to bed, in fact there wasn't even a decent bed in sight.

~~Ω~~

Gao Tu knocked lightly on Shen Wenlang’s door. The sky had already turned from a golden glow a while ago to not quite pitch black as night rolled in. He absentmindedly rubbed where Shen Wenlang had touched his hand, as if trying to keep the sensation alive.

The door opened, revealing Shen Wenlang, already changed into more comfortable clothes. He stepped by to let Gao Tu in, no words needed.

He had been inside Shen Wenlang’s apartment so many times, it was second nature for them to work in tandem making the tea. Shen Wenlang would fill the kettle and turn it on to boil, Gao Tu get the cups from the cupboard and prepare the tea to be brewed. It was second nature to them. Natural.

It was routine—Gao Tu came round. They’d share a warm tea, then head to bed.

But the ‘Daddy Wenlang’ incident still lingered in Wenlang’s mind. So close to Gao Lele calling him ‘dad’ and yet not quite there, through no fault of his own.

He couldn’t help but glance at Gao Tu whose eyes watched the kettle as it boiled, ready and waiting for the right time to flick it off before it completely boiled.

In a strange way, the moment echoed Gao Tu: ‘so close, and yet not quite.’

Little steps forward on the stepping stones between them, only to pause when the space between them looked a little further than the last.

Admittedly, Shen Wenlang was no better. He felt a pull—but still pushed back if that pull came too close to the source. What he was pushing back from, exactly, he couldn’t name.

He watched as Gao Tu started to fill the cups with water, the gentle aroma of tea rising with the steam. It was subtle but calming.

“What did Feifei want to talk about?” Gao Tu asked, trying to sound casual.

But Shen Wenlang wasn’t completely stupid. He knew Gao Tu was trying to keep the subject neutral instead of the incident with Lele.

It wasn’t that it was undiscussable, it was just that it was something that had become real and neither knew how best to address it in depth. Gao Tu had said Gao Lele would know eventually, and for now that was enough for the alpha. But still, Shen Wenlang still had yet to find out what Gao Lele knew of the dad he didn’t grow up with.

“Ma Heng apparently wants to finally meet properly.” He replied, crossing his arms, his thoughts kept separate. He watched as Gao Tu’s shoulders hitched ever so slightly, caught off guard, and look over to him.

“And? Will you?”

Gao Tu knew it was an inevitability. It had been something tactfully avoided when Ma Heng was at home. Not out of fear, more just out the sheer awkwardness of the subject. The only surprise was that this was something he hadn’t been privy to between Ma Heng and Song Feifei, considering such a meeting was the result of him and Lele.

Still, Gao Tu felt a whisper of guilt creeping up at him.

Three years—the memory of moving from place to place, even when wheelchair bound and weak, Ma Heng and Gao Qing fighting tooth and nail to keep Shen Wenlang from catching up to them and there always being close calls. Moving to a different country—a fresh but still very foreign start. Gao Lele’s birth, Gao Tu’s health.

Ma Heng and he had known each other from years before Shen Wenlang when they were children—but it was ultimately Shen Wenlang who had led to their lives being intertwined so heavily in such a short time.

How exactly was Gao Tu meant to bring up the subject without it feeling like all that time had been for nothing? He couldn’t think of anything worse than Ma Heng feeling like he had wasted so much time on him—even if relocating had led to Ma Heng finding love in Song Feifei and Gao Tu finding a contented lifestyle that was safe and easy to raise Lele in.

He watched from his peripheral vision as Shen Wenlang rested his hip against the counter, arms folded as he leaned forward closer to Gao Tu who kept his eyes trained on the cups.

“Do you not want me to?”

His face snapped to look at him properly, the words tumbling out without hesitation, “Of course I want you to.”

Realising how quick he replied, his ears threatened to turn pink, and he looked back at the cups, voice small and almost weary, “I just don’t want it to turn into an argument…”

Shen Wenlang diverted the atmosphere before it could turn too serious as he rested his chin on Gao Tu’s shoulder, eyes glued on him. “You think it will?”

Gao Tu looked at Shen Wenlang, unimpressed and unconvinced. Ma Heng would only argue when protective or standing up for what he believed was right. Shen Wenlang, no matter how many years passed, was still Shen Wenlang. An S-class Alpha who didn’t appreciate being provoked even when no provocation was there to begin with.

Gao Tu may have seen a difference in Shen Wenlang, and yes it was a difference he was becoming more and more accustomed to and fond of. But even Shen Wenlang couldn’t rewrite his entire personality regarding strangers—or worse—someone he disliked.

“Yes.” He deadpanned.

Honestly—Shen Wenlang couldn’t convincingly say it might not end in an argument.

He tsked and lifted his head from the omega’s shoulders, crossed arms tightening. There was no bite in his attitude and was more like a petulant child who had been told they couldn’t go on trip, only to turn around and say, ‘I didn’t want to go anyway’.

“Well, I’ve already agreed to it.”

Gao Tu’s eyes bugged out, head turning to Shen Wenlang again. At a complete loss for words. Shen Wenlang’s demeanour softened off.

“I don’t want to lose you again.” He said softly.

There he went again with soft words. There was a time not too long ago that such honeyed words would make Gao Tu feel a conflict of emotions ranging from embarrassment to cautious hope. Now—they had a way at softly brushing against Gao Tu’s skin and making him feel warm, loved even.

His expression softened, the corners of his mouth forming a gentle smile. “It really means that much to you doesn’t it.”

He had noticed how he made an effort to get along with Song Feifei. Never in his wildest dreams would he have ever imagined Shen Wenlang—the omega averted alpha—would greet an omega let alone stand in a kitchen and converse with them like he hadn’t spent the majority of his life hating their very existence—all for him.

“You mean that much to me.” Shen Wenlang stated, as if it was the most obvious fact in the world.

And Gao Tu believed it.

He handed him one of the cups and went over to the dining table to lean against. Shen Wenlang followed behind and stood next to him, taking a sip of the tea.

“Okay, then.” Gao Tu looked back at him. “But, both me and Feifei are going to be there.”

Gao Tu had the haunting mental image that, left unattended, it would end up in an all-out brawl. But he wasn’t going to let Shen Wenlang feel like he was being ganged up on by Song Feifei and Ma Heng either, even if that wasn’t the intention.

“I hoped you would be.” Shen Wenlang replied, “I want you to be there. This is about you and Lele.”

Lips forming a soft line, Gao Tu nodded. This was also a very true core fact.

A comfortable silence fell between them for a time. Shen Wenlang’s shoulder brushed against Gao Tu’s and he felt tenderness and longing settle deep in his chest bloom again. He reached out and took Gao Tu’s hand lightly, interlocking their fingers. The gesture small, but it gave Shen Wenlang a sense of reassurance.

Being on at least tolerable terms with Ma Heng was Shen Wenlang’s baseline goal. He knew the unavoidable jealousy and emotional territorial side of him was bound to rear its ugly head. But the reward of being able to have Gao Tu by him, no need to feel like they were tiptoeing around, to be able to thoroughly pursue Gao Tu unimpeded—was worth it.

He already had an idea in mind for Gao Tu and Lele’s birthday celebration, but it required passing this particular hurdle first. Just thinking about what he was planning made Shen Wenlang’s heartbeat quicken and a flutter of giddy excitement tickled his insides.

Meanwhile, Gao Tu used the tea’s warmth to ground himself as he took a sip. The ritual often soothed nerves easily, but he couldn’t help that nervous anticipation starting to bubble under the surface.

Shen Wenlang squeezed his hand lightly.

Gao Tu instinctively squeezed back, acknowledging.

He saw from the corner of his eyes how Shen Wenlang smiled to himself and lifted his cup to his lips.

Part of Shen Wenlang wanted Lele to be there. Afterall, he was just as much part of this as Gao Tu was. But he also wasn’t sure if this was the kind of meeting a child should be part of.

While it wasn’t like they were all planning to sit down and discuss the intricacies of their pasts, there was naturally going to be certain aspects at risk of coming up. This was where the blessing of Song Feifei didn’t extend to Ma Heng. Song Feifei was an outsider on their history—Ma Heng was unfortunately part of it.

“He could spend the day with Peanut,” Gao Tu suggested, “if you have to look after him the same day. It might be a good idea to talk at the park. If it’s a day Lele isn’t at school.”

At least, in Gao Tu’s mind, it was a more neutral territory. He knew Ma Heng could smell Shen Wenlang’s scent of iris on him and in the house just as much as Shen Wenlang was more than aware of the scent of apricot that was a permanent fixture in his home.

Not to mention, Gao Tu hoped the pair of alphas would have at least enough face about them to keep things civil in public with children around.

The park seemed the best choice.

Shen Wenlang’s eyes narrowed at the air, the corners of his mouth pinched in dissatisfaction. Not at Gao Tu, but at remembering how sneaky Huasheng must have been to have spoken to Lele about terms of address and heaven knows what else.

“I’d have to have a word with Peanut first.” his words had no sharpness to them but were firm. “He’s a bad influence on Lele. If we’re all sat talking, who knows what he might say to him.”

No way on earth was Shen Wenlang letting his godson turn his own sweet son into a menace. He was still sure Hua Yong’s lunacy was catching—just look at Sheng Shaoyou falling for him.

“He knew he should be calling you uncle.”

He certainly knew he shouldn’t be running around shouting ‘Daddy Wenlang’s wife’.

It pulled a breathy laugh out of Gao Tu as he looked down amused. Yes, it certainly had been a shock to the system being called ‘Jiuma’, but he still couldn’t help but find humour in the absurdity of hearing Gao Lele, Shen Wenlang’s own son, call his own father ‘Daddy Wenlang’. And Huasheng—a child who Gao Tu had first presumed was also Shen Wenlang’s child—had been the instigator.

He also couldn’t help the warmth that spread through him, the same kind of warmth when he thought about Shen Wenlang using soothing pheromones when Lele was sick. It eased some of the nervous tension in his chest.

For Shen Wenlang, Gao Tu’s soft laugh made the corners of Wenlang’s mouth turn upwards and his eyes soften.

“What?”

Gao Tu rolled his head to the side, trying to hold off another chuckle as he looked over to Shen Wenlang. “He’s just a child. They learn from each other.”

Wenlang his cup down, and moved to stand before Gao Tu, his hands resting on the edge of the table at either side of him. His expression looked almost bemused.

“Do you really want Lele to pick up Peanut’s bad habits?”

Unconvinced, Gao Tu raised his eyebrows in question. From his observation of little Huasheng, he was a well natured child who had an inquisitive mind. “What kind of bad habits?”

“The kind that makes him call you ‘Jiuma’ and making Lele call me ‘Daddy Wenlang’. He’ll start calling Lele ‘Shen Lele’ next.”

He instantly shut his mouth. Shen Wenlang hadn’t thought about the words before they left his lips. He blinked, as if realising too late. They both stilled, a breath caught between them.

It was meant to be a light joke, teasing even. The kind they’d tossed back and forth for weeks. But this one didn’t bounce—it stayed. A joke that shed a very real light on a subject they hadn’t discussed.

They stared back at each other, neither daring to respond, neither knowing how to. It was like the air between them had been sucked out in an instant, leaving nothing but a heavy thickness—and something charged. Whether it was an explosion or a firework—was to be determined.

Shen Wenlang waited for Gao Tu to shut the words down.

Gao Tu just waited, not knowing what he was waiting for. For Shen Wenlang to take the words back? To play them off? Or maybe, just maybe, an affirmation.

‘Shen Lele’

The name whispered between them—careful and delicate— a thought spoken into being, soft as music, carrying everything Lele was to them. Theirs.

Neither tore their gaze away as Gao Tu slowly lowered the cup in his hands, placing it down next to the other without so much as a glance. His fingertips clung to the curve of the handle, not quite daring to let go at first, before he finally let them slip away and unintentionally brush against Shen Wenlang’s hand.

He became aware of that familiar scent of iris again, the very essence of Shen Wenlang. Familiar, grounding, burned into his senses. And any nerves he had felt up to this point quietened to a soft hum, allowing his mind to have some sense of clarity in the haze.

Unconsciously, his eyes fell to Shen Wenlang’s lips—not with intent, but with the quiet ache of something unspoken.

His eyes flicked back up to Shen Wenlang’s, his eyes caught that they also had strayed for a moment. He half-blinked, and the fingers that had brushed Shen Wenlang’s rested across the top of his hand.

Shen Wenlang leaned until his lips brushed Gao Tu’s. Testing the waters, letting Gao Tu have the option to leave it as that or to press further.

It wasn’t like it was their first kiss—or even their second or third. But with every kiss there was always a heat that stirred in Gao Tu’s chest, be it from nerves or excitement. He leaned into the feeling of Shen Wenlang’s lips against his own.

It was a feeling that promised something more, if he dared to reach for it.

And it was in that clarity that, for a moment, the hesitation receded and gave way, to let him lean in and he return the contact, firmer this time, wanting.

His fingers brushed Shen Wenlang’s wrist, then stilled there as Wenlang’s hand reached up and rested on his neck. The warmth of Shen Wenlang’s palm against his neck sent a shiver down his spine, sending little sparks of electricity through him even as the kiss pulled him under. Gao Tu’s lips parted, their breaths mingling as his head tilted back, falling into pace with the alpha. His hand slid up, resting on Wenlang’s forearm to steady himself.

The hand slid to his waist, hooking at the small of his back as if to anchor him, pulling the omega closer. Sage warmed the air; a trace of tea lingered on Gao Tu’s tongue as his mouth parted like an invitation.

It grew not just hungrier, but more honest.

Gao Tu could feel the heat of Shen Wenlang’s chest against his own through the barrier of fabric. Iris clinging to him and radiating off in equal measure. It brought a different kind of haze to Gao Tu’s mind.

Wenlang’s hand at his back shifted, sliding under Gao Tu’s shirt and up along the curve of his spine, fingertips brushing skin as if memorising the shape of him as he recalled the brief glimpse of bare skin and had refused to be forgotten. Connecting memory to sensation.

Their mouths parted briefly, breath catching between them, and Gao Tu’s eyes flicked up. Wenlang’s gaze held his, dark eyes steady.

The only sound between them was their breath and neither moved at first. It was Shen Wenlang who moved the hand from Gao Tu’s neck to take hold of his hand again. He looked at them, then back up to Gao Tu, giving him time to respond.

With no refusal, Shen Wenlang took a step back, hand reluctantly left the feeling of skin against his fingers. Gao Tu followed wordlessly as he allowed himself to be led by the alpha without resistance. He reached out, and Shen Wenlang took his other hand while carefully he walked backwards, eyes refusing to leave him.

The hallway stretched behind Wenlang, but he didn’t look back even as he reached the door. It was like if he dared turn away, Gao Tu would vanish before his eyes—like waking up from a dream during the critical moment. And if this was a dream, Shen Wenlang hoped to never wake up—to find himself back in Jianghu, no Gao Tu, no Lele, no scent of sage bringing familiarity and comfort to his heart that had been aching for so long.

He nudged the door open and pulled Gao Tu close again, kissing him without hesitation. Gao Tu’s arms wrapped around his waist and leaned into Wenlang’s chest as he returned the kiss with as much intensity and need.

The dim room greeted them with a silence separate from the outer world with its curtains shut and lingering scent of Shen Wenlang in the space. Sage only clung ever so faintly after not being occupied by Gao Tu’s presence in over a week. The bed was neatly made, only becoming crinkled when Shen Wenlang sat down, pulling Gao Tu to straddle his lap.

Shen Wenlang’s hands found their way under Gao Tu’s shirt again, palms against the warm smooth skin. It drew a soft breath out of Gao Tu between their lips as his hands cupped Wenlang’s face, the feeling of Shen Wenlang so close, made his already hazy mind seek as much physical touch as he could get.

His hands trailed down to the neckline of his shirt and slipped down the back. He could feel firm muscle beneath warm skin as he placed another kiss against Shen Wenlang’s lips, parting to deepen it again without pause.

Wenlang’s hands found Gao Tu’s waist and slipped his thumbs to the hem of his shirt, palms trailing up his sides as he lifted it up. Only when Gao Tu released him and held his arms up, breaking the kiss long enough for Shen Wenlang to pull the shirt off over his head, revealing the bare skin of his chest as the shirt was dropped on the bed next to them.

Even in the warmth of the room, the air touching exposed skin made Gao Tu shudder lightly. For Shen Wenlang, the scent of sage intensified as he leaned forward, planting a long kiss against his collarbone, earning another shudder from Gao Tu as he reached for the edge of Shen Wenlang’s shirt in return. The alpha leaned back just enough for Gao Tu as he pulled it up, knuckles grazing against his skin, and off. His hands trembled ever so slightly as the shirt joined his own.

At last, they closed the physical space, chest to chest as Wenlang drew him down and sealed the space between them with a long, claiming kiss. Gao Tu wrapped his arms around Shen Wenlang’s neck, his fingers lightly massaging at the muscles under his touch.

He felt Shen Wenlang’s finger creep up into his hair, sending goosebumps across his body, his other hand at his waist, thumb brushing along the waistband of his bottoms. Only when they parted for a breath did he bury his face between the space between his arm and Shen Wenlang’s neck, feeling the alpha’s lips along his neck and shoulder. Each kiss against his skin felt like a spark that lingered like a butterfly’s wing. He felt Shen Wenlang’s fingers trail along the edge of the waistband, like searching for a weak spot along territory lines.

Gao Tu’s arms tightened a fraction, and he stilled. His face buried deeper, as if he was hiding.

The yearning that had ignited courage in his chest was smothered by the reflex to protect himself when he felt the vulnerability of being so close to the sensation of being exposed, body and heart at the same time, and so intensely. And he found himself suddenly frightened—like being afraid of what’s in the dark, not the dark itself.

Shen Wenlang felt the tension in Gao Tu’s body and his hands paused. He didn’t try to pull away from Gao Tu, but when he tried to shift to see the omega’s face, Gao Tu buried it deeper into his neck.

Along with fear, an odd sense of embarrassment from suddenly freezing up, tinted with guilt, crept in.

Gao Tu wasn’t afraid of Shen Wenlang—far from it at this point.

This fear was born from rejection of himself, of his omega identity. And it left him feeling a different type of vulnerable—the type that had never presented itself since that one night with Shen Wenlang three years go.

The first and last time they had been intimate, it was in the haze of a heat in a tiny staff lounge of a hotel. Gao Tu remembered the following days after, avoiding Shen Wenlang like a plague, fearful of being discovered not only as an omega, but as the omega in heat Wenlang had slept with—then for Gao Tu to be dealt with the ultimate hand of fate by finding out he was pregnant. Years of carefully constructing the façade of being a beta, out of survival and love, only for his body to violently drag him back into reality by the two conditions that no amount of convincing or suppressants could change the fact he was an omega.

“Gao Tu?” Shen Wenlang said softly, the hand at the waist of his bottoms wrapping protectively around him while the one in his hair stilled.

“I’m sorry.” Gao Tu mumbled against his neck, unable to face Shen Wenlang just yet, “j-just give me a minute…”

Even while holding tightly onto him, Shen Wenlang could feel the slight tremble in Gao Tu’s body. The heat that filled him before dissipated in an instant and all he could feel was concern, not knowing what had induced such a reaction from the omega.

Gao Tu probably would have cried from the guilt and shame, if it weren’t for the frustration at himself taking over like a tidal wave.

He knew Shen Wenlang loved him—he’d made that clear from day one and tried to gently prove that to him time and time again, through touches, words and the simplicity of presence.

So why now did he have to have such a visceral gut reaction? It wasn’t that Gao Tu wanted to stop either! And yet his body still rippled with a stomach dropping churn of emotions.

He clung to Shen Wenlang. Unable to move forward or let go.

Shen Wenlang’s hand started to stroke his hair, meant to soothe both of them. Any potential sting of rejection smoothed over by the fact Gao Tu hadn’t pulled away, hadn’t shut him out and made a run for it back to the safety of his own apartment. It didn’t quell the building concern as Gao Tu clung to him, the heat of their skin contact a firm grounding physical force.

“We…can stop?” he offered, fingers stilling, “We don’t need to do anything else.”

He let the words fall softly. So close—bare skin and lips, unbearably enticing, but seeing how Gao Tu had reacted, Wenlang’s surrender was deliberate and willing. He wouldn’t take that agency from Gao Tu—not now, not ever. Like everything before, he wanted Gao Tu to step forward willingly into his orbit and let Wenlang love him willingly and wholeheartedly.

Gao Tu pulled back to finally face Shen Wenlang, but his eyes remained lowered. He gave a small nod; his hands rested against Shen Wenlang’s neck and didn’t move to lift himself off his lap. He stayed there, small and quiet, waiting for Wenlang’s response.

“Then we won’t do anything else.” he repeated, steadily. His hand slid to rest on Gao Tu’s cheek.

Gao Tu’s eyes rose and searched for irritation, or even impatience. But there was none, just softness and concern. He bit his lip and leaned in, offering one brief, honest kiss—soft, steady.

Shen Wenlang returned the kiss and wrapped both arms around him, thumbs making slow, steady circles. Gao Tu tightened his hold, chin finding the familiar hollow, and breathed out; the tension that had seized his limbs eased.

He didn’t try to explain; he wasn’t ready. And Shen Wenlang didn’t push, giving him the space to not feel like he had to. Instead, Gao Tu rested his cheek on Wenlang’s shoulder and left it for later. They held each other in silence, neither pushing nor pulling, just staying in the stillness of each other.

At last, their hands loosened, reluctantly. Wenlang pressed his lips to Gao Tu’s shoulder before he leaned over and picked up their shirts, the cotton cool against his palms as he helped Gao Tu put his on first. He eased Gao Tu’s arms into the sleeves, pulled the shirt down, and gave the hem a small tug.

Gao Tu watched as Wenlang pulled his own shirt over his head. He reached out and smoothed the hem in return, the exacting, domestic motion steadying them both.

Wenlang looped an arm around Gao Tu’s waist, guided them up the bed, and loosened the blanket edge so they could climb in.

They eased onto the mattress together and pulled the blanket up to their shoulders, knees tangling as Wenlang draped his arm over Gao Tu’s shoulder and drew him close. Gao Tu wrapped his arm around Wenlang’s waist and buried his face in the fabric of his shirt, breathing in iris once again.

Wenlang’s hand settled between Gao Tu’s shoulder blades, palm warm through the cotton. Their breathing fell into rhythm—slow, quiet, shared. Neither of them spoke, they didn’t need to and they wouldn’t force it. Shen Wenlang placed a kiss on the top of Gao Tu’s head and rested his cheek there as he closed his eyes.

The night had turned in a way neither of them had planned. But the end result was the same: Gao Tu—here, in his arms, in his bed. Where he belonged. Wenlang closed his eyes and let that truth settle. It was enough.

Early the next morning, Shen Wenlang woke up in the staff lounge of a hotel. The cramped space was filled with the gentle, slightly bitter aroma of sage mixed with the predatory scent of iris, so strong that it was jaw-dropping. One of the legs on the sofa bed in the corner had collapsed, and the whole thing was a mess. There even seemed to be blood.

The fragments of his memory made Shen Wenlang, who always hated Omegas, angry and embarrassed. Faced with overwhelming evidence, he could not just treat everything as a dream. In silence, he almost subconsciously blamed Gao Tu for his inexplicable disappearance.