Chapter Text
Xiang was the kind of man most people overlooked.
At the office, he moved like a shadow-quiet, calm, and annoyingly efficient. His black hair stayed perfectly neat no matter how winds pushed or paper avalanches happened around him. His suit was always crisp.
His coworkers whispered "(neat freak)(deadline ninja) (breedable) mysterious," mostly because he never flinched when deadlines piled up like skyscrapers.
In truth, he just liked peace... and maybe the satisfaction of watching everyone else panic a little.
Today, like most days, he walked home alone, earbuds in, dodging puddles, people and the usual swarm of taxi drivers who clearly had it out for pedestrians. Normal. Calm. Perfectly boring.
If only that's what happened.
Because Xiang wasn't just Xiang. He was X. A hero who could teleport across dimensions, bend reality, and basically make physics sweat in fear. He could've fixed the city in a snap or obliterated it entirely but he didn't.
Bragging wasn't his style. Chaos wasn't his style. He preferred walking home without someone screaming at him for a missing cat or a collapsing building.
Xiang stepped out of the office building, loosening his tie. The sun was already gone, replaced by the bright glare of streetlights. He took a deep breath, ready to go home, grab some food and maybe a drink or two, watch something simple, and then sleep.
That was all he could hope for after being forced to do overtime.
"Life is so great," he muttered sarcastically, almost smiling at the thought.
He was just a block away from his apartment, turning the corner toward the familiar building, when the world decided to remind him that normal was a lie.
A low rumble rolled under his feet. At first, he thought it was a truck or maybe some construction work but the ground shook harder. Concrete cracked. Streetlights wobbled. Xiang paused, tilting his head.
"Huh?"
The air itself seemed to hold its breath.
Then—
BOOM.
Something powerful exploded at the center of his apartment block. The impact sent a violent shockwave outward. Cars flipped, windows exploded, and the building collapsed floor by floor in a cloud of dust and debris.
People screamed. Horns blared. Chaos ruled.
X?
No, just Xiang
Xiang... didn't move. He didn't transform. He just stood there, hair and coat whipped by wind and dust, staring at the ruins of what had been his home.
A long, tired sigh escaped him.
"I guess I'm not sleeping early tonight"
Dust settled around him. Sirens wailed somewhere far off. People ran past, shouting. Xiang simply wiped the dust off his glasses, stepped over a bent street sign, and muttered under his breath:
"Not my problem."
He straightened his suit and started walking away from the chaos. He needed a new place to stay. Preferably cheap. Preferably quiet.
As he walked down the street, stepping over fallen bricks, twisted metal, and the occasional panicked pedestrian, Xiang didn't even consider transforming into X. One spark, one subtle shift and everything could be under control. Buildings would straighten. Cars would right themselves. Chaos would obey.
But he didn't.
Not because he didn't care. Not because he lacked the power.
Because he was tired. Bone deep, city crushed, overtime forced, just tired. He'd barely stepped out of the office when the universe had decided to drop a building on his head.
And honestly? He didn't feel like fixing a mess he didn't make.
Hero or not, some days Xiang just wanted to walk home, eat something edible, and sleep. Carrying the weight of the world wasn't on today's to do list.
So if fate had decided that his apartment was suddenly gone... Poof... well, fine. Let it be.
Besides, the other heroes were already on their way-ready to swoop in, take the glory, and leave the cleanup for someone else. Xiang pushed his glasses up, smirked faintly, and stepped over another chunk of rubble.
Xiang walked down the cracked street, phone in hand, scrolling through listings like a detective searching for a miracle. His fingers tapped the screen, eyes narrowing behind his glasses.
"Cheap. Quiet. Temporary. Move in tonight," he muttered, scrolling past dozens of "No Vacancy" notices.
He sighed. "Of course. Everyone else had the same idea."
The next few blocks were chaos incarnate. people shouting about broken elevators, makeshift tents outside overbooked hotels, and one man locked in a screaming match with a dog over a set of car keys. Xiang sign, adjusted his glasses, and ignored the chaos.
Finally, one listing made him pause:
"Fancy room available. Beautiful view. Clean and quiet. 24/7 service."
He raised an eyebrow, tilting the phone as if it were lying to him. Expensive. Probably far more than he wanted to spend.
But.
Finally.
Even if it cost more than he liked, at least it was somewhere to sleep tonight. Somewhere that wouldn't vanish before he got there. A small victory in a city determined to make him homeless.
Better than nothing.
Xiang just recently made a call and after that he arrived at Sunny Heights ten minutes later, stepping through the glass doors with the quiet determination of a man who refused-absolutely refused-to be homeless tonight.
The lobby was bright, too bright, with motivational posters on the wall like "Spread love everywhere you go!" which instantly gave him a headache.
He approached the front desk.
The receptionist from the call-a young woman with way too much energy for someone working past dark, looked up and beamed.
"Oh! You must be Mr. Xiang!" she chirped.
Xiang gave a polite nod. "Yes. I'm here for the room I reserved."
Her smile flickered. Just a little.
She shuffled through her papers.
And then she froze.
"Uh..."
Xiang's eye twitched. "'Uh what?"
The receptionist swallowed nervously.
"The, um... the room you reserved... it's... actually already taken."
Xiang stared at her.
Blink.
Blink.
He lowered his voice. "Excuse me?"
Before she could answer, a man in a polo shirt popped out of the back room.
"Ah—my fault!" he said loudly. "Totally my fault!"
Xiang turned slowly toward him, deadpan.
Of course there was a second idiot involved.
"I was the one who took the call," the man continued, scratching his head with zero shame. "But then some guy showed up just now and demanded the room, so I gave it to him! I mean... he looked like he really needed it."
Xiang blinked again.
"I called..." he said flatly.
"Ten minutes ago."
Polo Shirt Guy nodded enthusiastically, as if this were a perfectly reasonable situation.
"Yeah! But this guy came in like five minutes ago. First come, first served, y'know?"
Xiang stared at him in utter disbelief.
This idiot.
He closed his eyes.
He inhaled.
He exhaled.
He opened his eyes again.
"I. Reserved. The room. I was the first one."
The receptionist nodded weakly. "Yes, sir, but... the other guy offered to pay double, sooo—"
Xiang's soul left his body for a moment.
"Of course he did."
Fuck.
With the patience of a saint and the expression of a man contemplating every life choice that led him here, Xiang said:
"Fine. Do you have any other rooms?"
The receptionist flipped through the papers again.
Polo Shirt Guy checked the computer.
They both froze.
"No..." they said in unison.
Xiang clenched his jaw, inhaled through his nose, and slowly raised his phone again.
Great... Amazing...
"Well then," he muttered. "Back to square one."
· · ─ ·𖥸· ─ · ·
The hallway of the cheap apartment building smelled faintly of damp carpet. A few overhead lights flickered like they were moments away from giving up on life(relatable, honestly)
THEY hauled THEIR suitcase along, still fuming as THEIR old landlord's final words echoed in THEIR skull:
"You need to be out tonight. No exceptions."
Horrible man. Zero stars. Would not rent from again.
Thankfully, salvation came in the form of Tita Marissa—their mom's friend, gossip queen, and part time landlord and life saver.
"Don't worry, sweety, I have one unit open! Very cheap, very safe, very empty. I'll text you the code. Just go straight in."
So they did. They marched up to the door, typed in the numbers, heard the lock click, and felt genuine hope bloom in their chest.
Finally.
A fresh start.
They pushed the door open, and froze like their soul had crashed.
Inside stood a man in a blue-grey suit, perfectly pressed, hair neat, glasses gleaming, (incredibly handsome, cute, attractive, angelic, beautiful, ethereal). He was quietly setting down a box of barbecue on the table, like this was the most normal thing in the world—which it is but not this interaction.
Their brain short circuited.
Someone was already here.
Their mouth moved before their dignity could catch up.
"AH—sorry! Sorry! Wrong room!" they blurted out, bowing like a malfunctioning robot before slamming the door shut with enough force to break the door.
They staggered back into the hallway, face burning.
Oh my god.
OH MY GOD.
Tita Marissa said it was empty. She promised. She even sent emojis. Emojis don't lie.
"just come in, the room is neat, empty, clean and ready to go. 🥰💗"
Unless...
Unless she mixed up the unit numbers again like that one time she accidentally rented out her storage room.
They pressed a hand to their forehead.
Okay. Deep breaths. There was a logical explanation for this:
First, They typed the wrong code.
Second, Tita Marissa gave them the wrong code.
Third, the universe simply hated them enough to serve this humiliation fresh and hot.
Any of the above were extremely possible.
They stomped down the hallway, suitcase dragging behind them like it was punishing them for some past crime. Every step radiated frustration, annoyance, and a dash of disbelief at how the universe seemed determined to ruin their day. They knocked sharply on the landlord's door.
The door swung open to reveal the landlord, calm and annoyingly cheerful, holding a clipboard and a stack of papers like nothing catastrophic had just happened. "Hey! Have gou check out your room?" she chirped and settling the papers near a cabinet.
"No," they said bluntly, letting the exasperation drip from every word. "There's a stranger in my room."
The landlord's smile faltered for a fraction of a second. Then her fingers flew over her phone, scrolling like the answers were hiding in her messages.
"Oh... oh no," she said, biting her lip. "I think I see what happened. That unit... might've been double booked. I'm so sorry—I really thought it was empty."
Again.
Wow.
They groaned, pressing a hand to their forehead.
Of course.
Of course this was happening. Nothing in the last twenty-four hours had gone remotely according to plan. First the old landlord kicks them out. Then the city is a chaos tornado. And now? Double booked rooms.
Sooo...
Perfect.
"So... what now?" they muttered. "There's nothing else available, right?"
The landlord shook her head with a tiny sigh. "Nope. Every other room is full. But don't panic, I have an idea. You two can... live there together!"
Their brain short circuited, again.
Live... together?
Like, share a space? With a stranger? Their stomach did a little flip, part disbelief, part irritation, part: well, at least I have a roof over my head and a companion.
But a stranger?!
She continued, oblivious to their internal freak out. "Honestly, it'll be fine. He's a good guy. I know him personally. You'll get along."
They blinked, muttering under their breath: Yeah... sure. Because living with a stranger in a tiny apartment always goes perfectly.
Just as the landlord was finishing her explanation, the soft scrape of shoes on the hallway floor.
Xiang appeared, phone in one hand, scrolling through pictures he had taken earlier. Calm and precise as always, but internally, just a little in a bad mood.
"Bathroom light isn't working," he said evenly, holding up a blurry photo on his phone. "The balcony lock is loose. The window hinge squeaks. Could all of that be checked?"
He looked up from his phone just in time to see someone standing awkwardly in the doorway, suitcase in hand.
For a split second, his calm, precise expression faltered.
That face...
It clicked. The same person. The one who had barged in earlier, shutting the door on them like it was some mistake.
Before he could even process it further, the landlord raised a hand. "Okay, hold on! Let's do introductions first. Xiang, this is... your new roommate!"
Xiang's eyes flicked to the stranger again. The apartment that had felt like a quiet, temporary refuge now seemed impossibly small.
Of course it would end like this, he thought, calm voice with a flicker of irritation in his mind.
The one person who barged in earlier... and now we're stuck together.
They stiffened, suitcase clutched tightly. Their heart sank as they connected the dots.
Wait. That's... him.
The guy who was in the room before me.
They blinked, half exasperated, half incredulous.
Of course. Of course it's him. Having to face to face him.
Of course.
Of course.
Of course.
Xiang tucked his phone into his pocket, straightening, tone flat and precise. "Xiang."
They shifted their weight, trying to appear calm.
Just say your name.
Don't freak out.
He can't read your mind... probably.
"(Name)," they said cautiously.
Both of them paused, each silently calculating the other. Xiang already noted the potential annoyances of sharing a space with someone new-noise, clutter, bad habits.
This is going to be... interesting. Not in a fun way.
Meanwhile, (Name) forced a small laugh to cover their mounting panic.
Okay, breathe. You can do this. It's just a small apartment. How bad can it be?
The landlord, oblivious to the tension radiating between them, clapped her hands. "See? Already getting along! You'll be fine. I know you two personally. Trust me! Xiang and (name) both of you are a good person, and you'll both manage together just fine. Plus, both of you will be only be living until there's a room available."
Xiang's lips pressed into a thin line. Manage. Right.
They let out a soft, almost inaudible groan. Sure. I have to deal with them for more than a day... Perhaps even weeks. Hopefully not months.
What a wonderful night. they both thought.
And just like that, two strangers—one calm, precise, and secretly powerful; the other frustrated, exhausted, and having some personal issues—were now forced into a tiny apartment, each silently wondering how long they'd last before driving each other completely insane. Probably the both of them at rhe moment.