Archive of Our Own

For Vein, the world wavered. It wasn’t just a rescue; it was the moment when a visceral fear invaded him upon realizing that Xia Fei was seconds away from becoming a memory.

“Félix.” —Vein’s voice was heard only once. There was no response. He moved forward with hurried steps, his pulse pounding hard in his temples. Broken glass on the floor. A chair falling. And, finally, him.

Xia Fei was sitting against the wall, breathing with difficulty and with trembling hands bound by painful restraints. He had marks on his wrists. They were not deep wounds. But they were enough to provoke Vein’s anger. He crossed the space between them and knelt in front of Félix.

—Look at me —he ordered firmly, but in a low voice. Xia Fei lifted his head—. Vein… I…

Vein took his face in his hands without letting him finish, examining him with his gaze, as if searching for something he didn’t want to find. Dried blood. More recent tones. But he was alive. Alive. Vein allowed himself to breathe, exhaling slowly.

“Breathe,” he said. “With me.” He waited and counted. He didn’t let go until Xia Fei’s rhythm stabilized and his breathing adjusted.

—I thought you wouldn’t come… —Xia Fei whispered. Something broke inside him; Vein looked away, without removing his hands yet.

—Don’t ever think that —he said with a tense voice—. Never.

He stood up and took off his coat, placing it over Xia Fei’s shoulders with almost excessive care, as if he were porcelain between his fingers.

“Did they do anything else to you?” he asked. Xia Fei hesitated. “Just… they held me. They wanted information.”

Vein’s fingers tightened into fists. What information would they want? Xia Fei didn’t know anything about his business; he was just a model from his agency. Had they seen him with Xia Fei very often? That must have been why they thought he knew something.

Did you say anything?

“No.”

Vein rose. He didn’t praise him. He didn’t hug him. But his posture became rigid, dangerous.

“Good.”

Silence. Xia Fei hesitated for a moment before speaking. —“…You were worried, right?”

Vein turned slowly toward him. His eyes were dark, without a trace of his usual humor. —“Don’t use that word,” he replied. He crouched in front of him again, at eye level. Staring at him without looking away, Vein felt that if he looked away, Xia Fei would crumble in an instant.

—Don’t disappear like that again —he said, lowering his voice—. Don’t make me go looking for you like that again. Xia Fei swallowed with difficulty. —I’m sorry…

Vein closed his eyes for a moment. Just a moment. —No —he corrected—. —Don’t worry, the important thing is that you’re okay. —He stood up and extended his hand.

—Let’s go home. —Xia Fei took it. As they left the warehouse, Vein stepped half a pace ahead, keeping watch from outside. Vein decided in silence that he would never make that mistake again. Not with Félix.

Xia Fei realized it on the second day. Vein simply… was there all the time. Too much, for Félix’s taste. It wasn’t that he disliked it; it was just, in a way, worrying for him. Not because Vein’s presence indicated that something was wrong, but because there was something going on with his boss.

Vein did not explain these things, much less to him. He hated explaining to Xia Fei what was going on; mainly, his responses to any situation were always based on: “Don’t worry, Félix, I’ll handle it.” “Félix, relax, I’ll solve it.” “Félix, it’s none of your business.”

Day 1

Xia Fei woke up on the studio couch, dazed, with a dull ache in his body, his face, and his wrists. He felt as if a truck had run him over without even stopping out of mercy. A different blanket, heavier, was on top of him. Someone had left a glass of water and painkillers on the table.

—Laoban..? —Xia Fei murmured, groggy. His throat was in pieces. He coughed painfully, sat up halfway, and obediently took the glass and the painkillers that were on the table.

—Here. —Vein was sitting in the chair, with his back to the window, checking his phone. He didn’t look like he had slept at all that night. Xia Fei felt guilt invade his insides, writhing like fish inside a lake, devouring everything within reach.

—You didn’t have to stay…

Vein looked up. He narrowed his eyes, observing Xia Fei. He didn’t look away for a second, checking his current condition. Satisfied with his analysis, he turned his gaze back to the phone.

—I’m not “staying” —he corrected—. I’m watching.

Vein left no room for discussion. Xia Fei did not refute.

Day 2

Xia Fei tried to go out alone to buy food and stock up enough for the following week. Once he put on his characteristic jacket, he prepared to walk out. Xia Fei didn’t make it to the door.

—Where to? —Vein asked from behind. He stepped between the door and Xia Fei, blocking his exit. —Just to the corner…

Vein took the keys before he could.

—I’ll go. Send me the list by message —he ordered.—Laoban… I’m not a child, you don’t have to—

Vein stopped. He didn’t turn around immediately. He did so slowly and looked at Xia Fei with wild eyes, the eyes of someone desperate not to lose everything.

—No —he finally said—. You’re someone who almost didn’t come back.

Silence. Vein headed for the door and repeated:

—Send the list by message. Xia Fei didn’t insist anymore. Vein didn’t bring it up again.

Day 3

Xia Fei woke up from a nightmare. The blows, the noise, the mockery, and the chains flashed before his eyes like a film reel. He jolted awake, breathing fast, without screaming. He felt himself starting to hyperventilate.

—Fei… —Vein was already on his feet. He approached slowly and sat in front of him, resting his hands on his shoulders, soothing him. On his face, concern was etched in; he had no intention of hiding it.

—Look at me —he asked. Xia Fei did, looking at him with the eyes of a frightened puppy. —You’re here —Vein continued—. You’re still here… it’s over now.

It wasn’t a hug. But Vein didn’t move until Xia Fei’s breathing calmed. That night, Vein didn’t return to his room. He didn’t sleep either. Xia Fei felt the guilt inside him grow even more.

Day 4

Xia Fei noticed it immediately. The active cameras. The doors checked twice, no omissions. Vein always walking half a step ahead, as if he feared Xia Fei might disappear at any moment, like dust.

—…How long are you going to keep this up? —Xia Fei asked in a low voice. Concern was written on his features; he didn’t try to hide it. Vein took a while to respond. He ran his hands over his face, trying to calm himself.

—Until imaginary scenarios stop appearing where I don’t arrive in time. Xia Fei felt his chest tighten, between guilt and an infinite worry.

—Laoban… —Vein looked at him and silenced him by raising a finger in front of his view. —Don’t disappear like that again —he repeated, softer than that night—. Don’t make me learn this again. Please, Félix.

Xia Fei nodded. —I promise. —Vein held his gaze for a second longer than normal.

—Good.

The city slept. The bustle of cars and the rain was a dull sound that calmed the surroundings where Xia Fei was. The studio was dim, lit only by the hallway light. Xia Fei woke up thirsty. He walked slowly toward the kitchen, without making noise. On his way, he saw him.

Vein was sitting on the floor, his back against the wall, still wearing his coat. The phone, turned off, hung from his hand. His head was tilted to one side. Xia Fei looked at him from head to toe, without looking away. Vein was not keeping watch, nor on alert like in the past few days, where he had grown intense to the point of excess.

He was calm.

—Laoban…? —Xia Fei whispered.

Vein did not respond. Xia Fei took another step, unsure whether to get closer to see how his boss was or continue on his way and pretend he hadn’t seen him. He spoke again:

—No… didn’t you sleep again?

The silence stretched. Too long. Xia Fei shuddered when, at last, his boss’s voice broke the silence of the studio.

—Fei —Vein said—. Go back to bed.

The voice was steady. Too steady. Xia Fei did not move. —No.

Vein closed his eyes, trying to hold everything in. He felt that if a few more minutes passed, everything would shatter, that he would lose control completely. —I’m asking you.

Xia Fei approached slowly and sat down in front of him, on the floor. He didn’t touch him. He just looked at him, keeping him company, as if that were exactly what he needed. —What are you doing here?

Vein pressed the phone against his temple, trying to regulate his breathing with long exhalations. His knuckles turned white from the pressure. —Counting —he replied.

—Counting what?

Vein swallowed. —The times I arrived late —he said in a low voice—. The times I thought: “just one more minute.”

Xia Fei felt a knot tighten in his chest. —But… this time you arrived. You arrived on time, Laoban. What’s going on exactly?

Vein let out a brief, hollow laugh. —Yes —he admitted—. This time.

Xia Fei lifted his gaze. Vein’s eyes were reddened, not from crying, but from exhaustion. A weariness that showed in every muscle of his body. Xia Fei felt a dull ache in his heart.

—Do you know what was the first thing I thought when I saw you sitting there? —Vein continued—. It wasn’t relief.

Xia Fei slowly shook his head, listening carefully, urging him to continue. —I thought: “This is how it starts.”

The silence grew dense. —I thought about how I would tell you I was sorry —Vein said—. What words I would use so they wouldn’t sound empty.

His voice broke there. It didn’t collapse. It fractured. —I don’t… —he took a deep breath— I don’t know how to lose you.

Xia Fei extended his hand, hesitated… and placed it over Vein’s, squeezing it in comfort. Vein did not pull away. He interlaced their fingers and clung to it like a lifeline.

—I don’t know how to keep functioning —he admitted—. I don’t know what rules to set for this.

His shoulders dropped a little, as if something inside gave way. —I always thought control was enough —he whispered—. That if I watched closely… if I reacted quickly… nothing would break.

Xia Fei squeezed his hand. Vein barely shook his head, exhaustion spreading through all his limbs. —No —he said—. But I can’t allow myself to fail either.

He fell silent. Then, lower:

—Promise me you won’t disappear like that again. —I promise —Xia Fei replied without hesitation.

Vein closed his eyes. For the first time in days, he rested his forehead against Xia Fei’s shoulder and let out a sigh. He didn’t cry. But he stopped holding everything together. Xia Fei stayed there with him, without saying anything. That night, Vein did not keep watch. He allowed himself to lower his guard, trusting in the comfort of his counterpart, and closed his eyes. Silence settled back into the studio.

Xia Fei was still there, sitting at his side, not daring to move. Vein’s hand was still beneath his, no longer tense… just tired. —Laoban… —he whispered—. You can sleep a little.

There was no response. Xia Fei thought he had been ignored, until he noticed something different. The breathing was slower. Irregular at first… then deep. Vein had tilted his head to one side, resting it against the wall. His shoulders, always straight, had yielded just a few centimeters.

He had fallen asleep. Right there. No alarms. No vigilance. Xia Fei swallowed. He had never seen him like this.

He stood up slowly, careful not to wake him. He took the blanket from the couch and knelt in front of him again. He hesitated for a second… then placed it over Vein’s shoulders, adjusting it clumsily. Vein moved slightly.

—…Fei —he murmured, unconscious—. Don’t go.

Xia Fei’s chest tightened.

—I’m not going anywhere —he replied softly—. I’m here.

He sat down beside him, resting his shoulder against his. Vein did not react. He just breathed… as if, at last, his body had decided to give in.

Minutes passed. Maybe hours.

When Xia Fei thought he was also going to fall asleep, Vein spoke again, half dream, half truth:

—If I stay still… are you still here?

Xia Fei closed his eyes. —Yes.

Vein’s body relaxed a little more. For the first time since the warehouse, since the fear, since the “almost”… Vein slept. And Xia Fei stayed awake, doing for him what Vein had done all those days:

Not leaving him alone.

The light was the first thing. It wasn’t bright or aggressive. It simply… was there. Vein frowned and opened his eyes slowly. The ceiling felt strange. Too low. Too white. He blinked.

Where…?

He tried to sit up abruptly…

And something held him.

Warmth. He lowered his gaze. A blanket covered his shoulders. The memory came suddenly, like a silent collision: the cold floor, the wall, the night… Xia Fei. Vein remained still. He hadn’t fallen asleep like that in years.

—…Fuck —he murmured, running a hand over his face. He sat up slowly, assessing as always: steady breathing, intact body, no immediate threat. But something was… out of place.

Then he saw him. Xia Fei was sleeping beside him, leaning against the couch, his head tilted at an uncomfortable angle and an expression of peace that Vein did not remember having seen in days.

Vein stayed watching him. For a long time.

—No… —he whispered—. You shouldn’t stay awake.

He leaned carefully so as not to wake him and adjusted the blanket over his shoulders, returning the gesture from the night before. His movements were clumsy, as if he didn’t fully trust his own hands. Xia Fei shifted slightly.

—Laoban…? —he murmured, half asleep.

Vein froze.

—Here —he replied immediately—. Easy. Xia Fei’s eyes opened slowly. —…You slept.

Vein looked away. —It was… a miscalculation.

Xia Fei blushed faintly. —It was human.

That, he did look at.

—Don’t say that again —he asked, but without harshness. He stood up carefully, stretching his stiff muscles. He looked around the studio: nothing had happened. No alarms. No urgency. The world hadn’t collapsed because he slept a few hours. That unsettled him more than any threat.

—How long? —he asked. —About three hours —Xia Fei replied—. Nothing happened.

He walked slowly, processing it. —Good.

He paused for a second before adding, lower:

—Thank you… for staying. Xia Fei blinked, surprised.

—Was that a…?

—Don’t get used to it —Vein interrupted, regaining part of his composure—. Have breakfast. You look pale.

But before walking away, he stopped again. He hesitated.

—Fei.

—Yes?

Vein spoke without looking at him. —If I get lost like that again… wake me up.

Xia Fei smiled.

—I will.