Work Text:
When Jiang Xi wakes up, the first thing he notices is the sensation of a dozen little ice picks being jammed into his skull.
The second thing he notices is an arm over his chest, one that definitely doesn’t belong to him. Though he knows what he’s going to see when he turns his head to look at the figure beside him, a part of him hopes that he’s misremembering the events of the previous night. Perhaps he’d met some other handsome blonde with a wicked smile, who’d only seemed familiar through the haze of alcohol, and the worst consequence he’ll face is the annoying task of kicking the man out.
Because the gods are never that kind, he’s greeted by the sleeping face of Mei Hanxue.
Fuck.
Jiang Xi closes his eyes and presses his palms against them, hard. Normally, when a problem arises, he approaches it with a clinical, considering eye. Nothing good has ever come from panicking, and he can’t abide the aimless flapping about that often accompanies it. Under the circumstances, however, it’s a bit difficult to grasp his usual calm; he can barely think, let alone problem solve, when the best solution would be to go back in time and not sleep with his son’s fiancé. Drowning himself in the nearest fishpond comes to mind as a close second, but he doesn’t want to inconvenience the resident koi.
Despite every part of him rebelling against it, he knows that what he actually needs to do is get up, shower, and wash down several paracetamol with a strong cup of coffee. He also needs, very much, not to be lying next to Mei Hanxue.
Carefully, Jiang Xi wriggles away from Mei Hanxue and slides out of bed, wincing when a throbbing pain in his backside makes itself known. A few particularly vivid memories of last night’s activities surge to the forefront of his mind, memories that he tries hard to ignore; he absolutely cannot think about surprisingly strong hands squeezing his waist while he’s trying to get himself together. To his dismay, he can’t ignore his reflection in the bathroom mirror. There are hickies all over his neck, his shoulders, his chest—he can’t recall a single other instance in the past of having left a sexual encounter looking like he’d been attacked by leeches. Even after the shock fades and he tears his gaze away from the obscene image before him, Jiang Xi can still feel his cheeks burning.
A hot shower doesn’t do much to improve his disposition, but it helps his physical ailments, at least. Mei Hanxue is still asleep when he exits the bathroom, so he dresses quietly before padding out to the kitchen, unable to face him until he has something resembling a plan. To that end, he makes himself an espresso with less sugar than he’d like, leans against the kitchen counter, and tries to think.
Unfortunately, even with a clearer head, the situation doesn’t become any less fucked.
They could try to hide it, he supposes. Pretend it never happened, never speak to each other again unless absolutely necessary, and Xue Meng could get married without ever knowing that he’d been betrayed in the worst possible way.
Alternatively, they could tell Xue Meng and deal with the repercussions head on. With a face as expressive as Xue Meng’s, it’s not difficult to imagine the hurt and fury he’d respond with. Perhaps he would forgive Mei Hanxue, eventually; they’ve known each other most of their lives. There’s no doubt in Jiang Xi’s mind that Xue Meng, with whom he has a contentious relationship at the best of times, would never speak to him again. That thought sits unpleasantly in his stomach, all the worse because just a day ago, he wouldn’t have thought he’d care.
The last few sips of Jiang Xi’s coffee are so acrid that he can barely stand it, any fleeting ideas of eating swept away in the ensuing wave of nausea. The only real option, in the end, is telling Xue Meng the truth, however disastrous the aftermath will be. With grim determination and no small amount of dread, he finally returns to the scene of the crime. As it were.
Mei Hanxue is still asleep, looking almost angelic in the morning light, and the sour taste filling Jiang Xi’s mouth is definitely not just from the coffee.
“Wake up,” he says. “Mei Hanxue, wake up.”
Green eyes blink open, surprisingly alert, until they fall on Jiang Xi. Then his whole body seems to relax, a warm, inviting smile on his lips as he says, “Oh, good morning.”
Something in Jiang Xi’s chest twinges at the memory of Mei Hanxue pulling him into his arms with that same smile; the absurd feeling of longing that follows only makes his mood worse. “Get dressed. I want you out.”
The smile doesn’t leave Mei Hanxue’s lips, though he raises an eyebrow at Jiang Xi’s tone. “Already? I was hoping we’d have breakfast first.”
“Excuse me?”
“Breakfast,” Mei Hanxue repeats. “Unless you prefer brunch?”
He says it so casually, as if it’s a perfectly normal response, that Jiang Xi can’t help but ask, “Do you remember anything about last night?”
That was a critical mistake, because Mei Hanxue’s smile turns decidedly sensual as soon as the words leave Jiang Xi’s mouth. “I doubt I could ever forget. Your nails were much sharper than I expected, you know. I can only imagine what my back looks like.”
Jiang Xi’s mouth falls open, the shock of such brazen words briefly robbing him of speech. “You—Have you no shame at all?!”
“Never,” he says, winking. “Shame is bad for your health.”
It’s not as though he knows Mei Hanxue especially well—ultimately, they’re little more than acquaintances. He’s not sure, then, why he feels so disappointed by the utter lack of remorse.
“You’re revolting,” Jiang Xi says. “Get the hell out of my bed and out of my house.”
Mei Hanxue sighs. “Do you really regret last night that much?”
“Yes,” he hisses. “And so should you. When Xue Meng finds out—” He breaks off there, unable to vocalize exactly what he imagines Xue Meng will do.
“Mengmeng will get over it,” Mei Hanxue says, waving a hand.
Jiang Xi stares at him in disbelief. He’s known Xue Meng properly for almost a year now, and if he’s capable of getting over anything, Jiang Xi has yet to see evidence of it.
Whatever expression he’s making prompts Mei Hanxue to continue, “Yes, he’ll be insufferable about it for a while, but he already knows how I feel about you. To be honest, I think he’ll mostly be surprised that you gave in.”
“How you feel about me,” Jiang Xi repeats.
“Mmhm. Surely you noticed before last night? I haven’t been particularly subtle.”
Jiang Xi wants to deny that he’d noticed any such thing, but the words won’t come out. There were times, perhaps, when they’d been left alone together and Mei Hanxue had behaved in a manner that could be described as flirtatious. There were times when Xue Meng was in the room and Mei Hanxue directed sly smiles and suggestive comments towards him, and Jiang Xi had pretended not to hear it when Xue Meng smacked his fiancé on the arm and hissed at him to knock it off. Certainly he’d never responded to such attention, even if he’d occasionally—very occasionally—been betrayed by an uncontrollable bodily reaction that he refused to acknowledge. He’d been so sure it was all meaningless teasing, especially since there were just as many occasions where Mei Hanxue treated him with perfect, if not cold, indifference.
It would never have occurred to him that Mei Hanxue could be this cruel.
“You were serious. You’ve been flirting with me, trying to get me into your bed, all while you’ve been engaged to Xue Meng?” Anger, shame, and disgust form a tight knot in his chest. “What is wrong with you?”
That, at last, wipes the smile off of Mei Hanxue’s face. “I’m sorry, what?”
“Did you really expect me to fall into your arms like some swooning maiden and not care at all?”
“Wait—”
“I realize I have a reputation for being heartless,” he says through gritted teeth, “but even I have my limits. Are you under the impression that I’d happily ruin Xue Meng’s life for this?”
“No, that’s not—”
“After what you just said, how can you possibly deny it? You made a fool of Xue Meng, of me, and then you have the nerve to ask me if I’d have breakfast with you!” Jiang Xi fairly spits the words out. “Do you think I have no self-respect at all?”
Mei Hanxue’s eyes are wide, and how dare he look so shocked? He really must have thought that Jiang Xi was entirely without morals to be so taken aback by his reaction. For some reason, that makes him even angrier.
“I will not be your mistress, Mei Hanxue. This was a mistake, never to be repeated, and if you even think of approaching me again, I—”
“Jiang Xi.” Mei Hanxue doesn’t shout, but his voice is loud enough to make Jiang Xi pause. The shock on his face has melted into incredulity and, to Jiang Xi’s outrage, something that looks very much like amusement. “I’m not engaged to Xue Meng.”
“What?” is all Jiang Xi can manage in the face of such a blatant lie.
Very calmly, Mei Hanxue says again, “I’m not engaged to Xue Meng, and I never have been. My brother is.”
“Since when do you have a brother?!”
“Since I was born,” he replies. “We’re twins.”
If he didn’t want very much to strangle him, Jiang Xi would almost be impressed by his ability to say that with a straight face. “Twins. And you expect me to believe that your twin has the exact same name as you?”
“Not the exact same.” Mei Hanxue offers a small smile. “The spelling is a bit different.”
The story is so ludicrous that it can’t possibly be true; on the other hand, it’s so easy to disprove that it can’t possibly be a lie. As if sensing his thoughts, Mei Hanxue rolls away and reaches for something on the other side of the bed, pausing there a moment before rolling back and holding up his phone. “See?”
It takes a moment for Jiang Xi’s eyes to focus on the photo in front of him, in which Mei Hanxue is grinning and flashing a peace sign at the camera, an arm around what appears to be his unsmiling mirror image. Their clothing is different, and the happier Mei Hanxue’s hair is a little longer, but it’s that vague frown on the other one’s face that convinces Jiang Xi he’s looking at two different people. Now that he sees them side by side, it’s hard to believe he’d ever thought the carefree Mei Hanxue in his bed could be the same person as the one who looked at him without the slightest trace of humor or affection.
When he finally looks at Mei Hanxue again, his expression is serious, but there’s something in his eyes that makes Jiang Xi feel like he’s being laughed at anyway.
“Get out,” he says, trying to ignore how hot his face has become. “This is ridiculous. You’re ridiculous. Having a secret twin like this is some sort of trashy novel—”
“It wasn’t a secret,” Mei Hanxue protests. “Honestly, I thought you knew.”
“How could I have? I never saw you in the same room!”
Looking both helpless and exasperated, Mei Hanxue says, “You and Xue Meng really don’t talk, do you?”
“Haven’t I already told you to get out?” he snaps.
“You have.” For some reason, probably having to do with an incurable disease of the mind, Mei Hanxue smiles. “But I really would like to have breakfast with you, now that we’ve established neither of us is ruining Xue Meng’s life.”
Setting aside the question of whether or not Xue Meng would agree with that statement, Jiang Xi scowls and turns away. “Put some clothes on if you’re going to keep talking nonsense.”
“Is that a yes?”
He doesn’t dignify that with a response, stalking off to the kitchen to make at least another six cups of coffee; he’ll need them all if he actually intends to let Mei Hanxue stay. Something only an idiot would do, mind you, when there are so many reasons to send him away. He may not be Xue Meng’s fiancé, but he is his future brother-in-law, and Xue Meng would be absolutely unbearable about it, which is to say nothing of the age difference between them. Last night had been…enjoyable, but it’d be best for both of them to leave it there.
When Mei Hanxue emerges in his rumpled clothes from the night before, Jiang Xi fully intends to tell him all of that. What actually comes out of his mouth, however, is: “We’re not going out to eat with you dressed like that.”
“Of course not,” Mei Hanxue agrees, lips twitching. “I was thinking we could order in?”
Jiang Xi makes a noncommittal noise, as if that will absolve him of his stupidity, and takes a very long sip of coffee. Regrettably, he doesn’t actually look away from Mei Hanxue, so he’s still hit with the full effect of the bright, devastating smile that breaks out across his handsome face.
Not for the first time that morning, Jiang Xi comes to the realization that he may, in fact, be fucked.