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Feng Xiao is starting to wonder if he’s been warped into a very unfortunate alternate universe where he’s a mere side character in someone else’s love story instead of the main character he was obviously born to be. He certainly is handsome and charismatic enough for it, if the yearly company “most eligible bachelors” list is anything to go by. The list is determined based on employees’ votes, with votes passed surreptitiously on sticky notes and compiled by Bing Xuan from H.R. Said eligible bachelors are not supposed to know about the existence of the list but Feng Xiao makes his subordinate, Pei Jingzhe, forward the final results to him every year, just to make sure.
That’s how he’s certain that he tops the list every year he’s been working in the company, even before he became the head of sales. He’s also quite literally the face of the company’s cosmetics line and he’s always the first in sales so he’s sure he is measureably competent too. He had never met anyone he couldn’t make swoon until, of course, he was introduced to the head of product development, Cui Buqu. The six foot, perpetually sickly, current source of all his woes.
It would have been easy to dismiss him when during their first meeting, the other man had only smirked and pulled out a 120 slide powerpoint pinpointing the flaws in his meticulously crafted promotional campaign for the company’s new product. However, over the course of long hours of unbillable overtime spent cramped together in either one of their offices and a couple of spontaneous makeout sessions in empty filing rooms; Feng Xiao had come to learn the man was not only extraordinarily intelligent, frustratingly contradictory and endlessly vindictive. Essentially, he was Feng Xiao’s walking wet dream of a man, in spite of his permanent eyebags, bad posture and attitude issues.
After the critical success of their campaign, the company had continued to assign the both of them to the same projects in hopes of replicating the same success. Although project meetings had basically become battlefields of endless squabbling, Feng Xiao was secretly glad for any legitimate pretense to continue meeting Cui Buqu. Disregarding the fact that he had long forgone searching for probable excuses to drop by the project development department and had since just waltzed in whenever he felt like metaphorically, and sometimes literally, poking the bear.
Feng Xiao liked to think they had developed a sort of understanding of the flirtatious sort, that their banter and back and forth of harmless pranks was leading someplace of the romantic variety. He could tell Cui Buqu was not entirely unaffected by his stunning looks by the number of times he had caught him staring when he thought he wasn’t looking. Who could blame him, certainly not Feng Xiao. So far it seemed like the relationship they had was essentially a very elaborate mating ritual where they both refused to be the first to cave to ask, “what are we?”, but instead worked to get the other to do so on their collective behalf.
This was making out to be the slowest inching off of pants he had subjected himself to in his life, but by God, was he determined to get into Cui Buqu’s ugly grey slacks if it was the last thing he did. And if he had a cleared out dresser drawer, hand knitted mittens and recipes tailored to Cui Buqu’s tastes and sensitivities back at home, no one had to know.
It was fun. They were having fun! Feng Xiao was sure of it, although the object of his… affections had never said as much. However uncharacteristic, Feng Xiao had once been uncertain if he was just another coworker slash fling to Cui Buqu, especially since he only seemed to sign exasperatedly and roll his eyes every time he found himself in Feng Xiao’s presence. Ironically, he had only been more assured of his feelings after Valentine’s Day, when Feng Xiao strolled into the product development department only to find that the nine hundred and ninety-nine roses he had ordered his secretary, Qin Miaoyu, to fill Cui Buqu’s office with had been subsequently repackaged into smaller bouquets and distributed to the women in the office under his name.
It wasn’t until a couple of weeks later when he burst into Cui Buqu’s office only to be met with an empty room, that he had found any sort of confirmation that this wasn’t as one-sided as he feared it was. With no one to stop him, he had searched the desk for any material to give his quest to romance Cui Buqu a helping hand: a family photo, personal calendar, he would have even settled on just getting an idea of Cui Buqu’s preferred reading material at that point. Rummaging through the unsurprisingly sterile desk had not yielded anything other than endless piles of reports when he spies a sliver of red amidst the piles of white paper. Pulling on it freed it from the pile of papers it had been buried under, yielding a single rose pressed between two sheets of plastic; a bookmark reminiscent of a craft children would make on mother’s day. If Feng Xiao walked out of that office feeling like he had conquered the sun, he doubts anyone would have faulted him for that.
The problems began a year into their cat and mouse chase, when flies had begun swarming around his metaphorical fruit. It had begun with Yu Xiu from the IT department, close friend of the CEO’s favourite son, who insisted it was his mission to teach Cui Buqu how to use the new application their company had developed by draping himself all over his back and his hand over Cui Buqu’s on the mouse. Feng Xiao had dealt with him swiftly, by unearthing attempted corporate espionage masking as lines of bug solving code.
Then came the bigger problem, Yuwen Xuanzhu, a pretty girl with a slender build wrapped in Chanel tweed and a Birkin on her arm. She was another one of the CEO’s seemingly endless number of relatives. It was bad enough that she always seemed to be dropping by the product development department when she bothered to drop by the company that funded her lifestyle, the CEO’s wife had commented that they would make a great couple during the company’s annual celebratory dinner. Seeing as both parties had just casually laughed the comment off, it was no surprise that the office had been abuzz with rumors of their apparent engagement while Feng Xiao seethed in his office. It took him another three months of stewing on company time before he carefully orchestrated a very public “meet-cute” between the CEO’s niece and the newly hired sales intern at the photocopier and the rumor mill had finally turned in his favour. Feeling particularly vindictive, he had left Cui Buqu to clean up the mess of that on his own, for the trouble. Nobody said Feng Xiao couldn’t be vindictive in this either; all’s fair in love and war, right?
By the time it was Christmas, Feng Xiao had dealt with more of Cui Buqu’s suitors than he had his own. The thing about being outstandingly beautiful was that most people were too intimidated to even consider pursuing him, they knew their place and stayed in his peripheral vision. But an average but admittedly pleasant looking, dangerously competent man like Cui Buqu seemed to attract both men and women who swarmed him like cats to an unwitting plot of catnip.
The competition had begun to intensify when an incompetent executive had accidentally leaked the personal email of the company’s lead product developer by forwarding an email thread meant only for internal use to the press. Now there were executives from rival companies turning up in their office lobby and meeting rooms in efforts to scout Cui Buqu, professionally and intimately. The lunch and dinner dates that Feng Xiao had previously dragged a reluctant Cui Buqu away from his work for, had all but disappeared as the man seemingly acquiesced to every one who sought him out, at least for a meal or two.
The frustration eats at Feng Xiao so much, he asks. They’re lying side by side on Cui Buqu’s bed, sweaty and so close, and he feels like his heart is on the tip of his tongue; the physical proximity and cum tasting a lot like emotional vulnerability. He asks Cui Buqu if he intends to leave the company, why he bothers entertaining these people at all.
“Didn’t peg you for the sugar baby type, Ququ! What could these people possibly offer that we couldn’t?” He tries for a light hearted and nonchalant jab but finds his tone lands somewhere between scorned lover and disappointed child. What could they possibly give you that I couldn’t? Why haven’t you chosen me?
Cui Buqu turns towards him and searches his face before he can school his expression. Whatever he finds seems to delight him as he smirks, “Only insights into their latest products. Who’s above a blowjob or two to get whatever they want, right?”
It sounds a lot like a deflection and a challenge Feng Xiao won’t let himself back down from, so he does what any other mature adult would do: he gets back down on his knees and swallows Cui Buqu in one go.
Feng Xiao does not pout as he sits a couple of tables behind whichever smarmy executive that Cui Buqu deigned to entertain that day, and he definitely does NOT stew in his own misery when the bolder ones cover Cui Buqu’s hand with theirs across the table. In these cases, he winks at the waiters and tips them handsomely after they ‘accidentally’ spill glasses of wine over a couple of expensive suits.
Honestly, he’s surprised Cui Buqu hasn’t called him out on it yet. His own subordinates don’t seem to have any reservations on that front, despite him being the sole controller of the department’s purse strings. The sales department is occupying a large part of a small family restaurant near the company he and Cui Buqu frequented after long nights working on presentations together. It was sanitary and carried the best kinds of alcohol.
“I just don’t get why you don’t just say something, boss! He’s clearly into you too,” slurred a red faced Pei Jingzhe. Beside him, a clearly intoxicated Qin Miaoyu nods reservedly. Feng Xiao cocks a brow as Pei Jingzhe continues, “Although I’m not too sure if that’s even a good thing… H.R. will have something to say about it, for one.”
Clearly, he hasn’t struck enough fear into the idiots in his department for them to be comfortable openly commenting on his love life, alcohol or not. He makes a mental note to dock Pei Jingzhe’s yearly bonus but spares Qin Miaoyu on account of her slipping laxatives into the coffee of his most recent competition in the waiting room earlier this week.
It’s then he spots a lanky frame he’s spent most nights dreaming of, hunched over and being supported out of one of the restaurant's private rooms. He’s clearly out of it, the way he is leaning all of his weight onto the person currently guiding him to the exit. He recognises the man with him as Xiao Lu, a handsome freelancer who apparently used to work in one of their rival companies before it got bought out.
He had been visiting Cui Buqu frequently and they apparently had ‘a lot in common’, absent fathers and chronic illness, the whole nine yards. Feng Xiao only knew half of what he knew about this man because he’d been fed the information by Cui Buqu’s secretary, Qiao Xian, who only kept her hostility towards him verbal on a good day, apparently in hopes of gaining a stronger ally in driving the man off. Feng Xiao guessed that his past as a significant player in a rival company didn’t inspire a lot of faith in her but didn’t know if he could say the same for the man they were apparently trying to protect. He had caught Cui Buqu smiling softly at the man more on more than one occasion; a privilege he was never privy to, never even knew was on the table.
Feng Xiao figured he was allowed a little time to wallow in self-pity after that, a new and frankly unpleasant experience. He doesn’t know why this process would appeal to so much of the population, but he supposes he never really understood what it was like to feel inadequate before this. If he’s honest with himself, he barely sympathises with Cui Buqu despite the disastrous cards he had been dealt. After all, the man has never been cowed and all but spat in the face of the universe who dealt him said cards. It’s what he will always admire about the man and doesn’t see any reason to feel sorry for him or coddle him. But maybe what Cui Buqu wanted was a soft hand and some form of commiseration he could never give. Ugh, he should probably hate the man for inspiring the embers of self doubt in him but the experience is so novel, he forgives him. He supposes that chaining the man to him forever would make up for it.
Which is why he’s sort of glad when he crosses the restaurant in a short strides, for a valid excuse to trip this Xiao Lu, but not before grabbing Cui Buqu’s arm and pulling him into his embrace while his free hand presses Cui Buqu’s face into his neck. Sadly, Xiao Lu does not fall flat on his face and manages to grab onto a nearby table with his good hand.
The restaurant is strangely quiet as Xiao Lu pulls himself up and rights himself. He assesses Feng Xiao, clearly unimpressed and grabs Cui Buqu’s wrist. Cui Buqu is clearly inebriated as he barely reacts to being treated like a chew toy being fought over by two extremely territorial dogs. Xiao Lu gives the hand a small tug as he smirks condescendingly, “Mr. Feng, how kind of you to join us, but we must be going. Buqu was just telling me all about his new Egyptian cotton bed sheets and we were just going to drop by to test them out.”
At this, the restaurant buzzes back to life. He can already imagine the hushed whispers in the staff canteen tomorrow afternoon; he should probably put in a request to take off tomorrow, if only to escape whatever sordid rumours that are bound to come from this. He doesn’t bother schooling his expression and letting it sour.
“Oh? Those sheets?” Feng Xiao snarks right back, “Yes, we picked those out together. Buqu had trouble picking between the 750 and 1200 thread count, but I convinced him to go big or go home. At least one of us needs to make sure he gets the kind we’d both enjoy.”
Feng Xiao’s grip around Cui Buqu’s waist tightens as the air around them becomes heavy with tension and Feng Xiao can see nervous sweat start to bead on the forehead of the waitress standing a distance away from them, poised to break up a fight if necessary.
The stalemate is only broken when Cui Buqu makes a distressed noise from where he is pressed into Feng Xiao’s neck. The entire restaurant watches as he places his hand against Feng Xiao’s chest and pushes himself away from his embrace, squinting blearily at the face of the man who was supporting his entire body weight. There’s a brief moment where Feng Xiao experiences real fear that this is how Cui Buqu rejects him for another and his grip on the man loosens.
Taking advantage of Feng Xiao’s loosened grip, Xiao Lu tugs on Cui Buqu’s wrist again. Just as it seemed that Cui Buqu would allow his body to follow, he shakes his wrist free and brings both his hands up to cup Feng Xiao’s face.
Feng Xiao barely has the time to readjust his grip on his waist before Cui Buqu breaks into a smile so radiant, Feng Xiao feels like he’s been hit by a train. In between soft giggles, Cui Buqu sighs contentedly, “Feng-er, I’m so glad it’s you.”
Feng Xiao’s brows shoot up into his hairline and he feels his entire face turn multiple degrees warmer. Despite the shock, he feels warmth bloom in his chest and doesn’t bother fighting the grin threatening to break out on his face. Their moment is interrupted by a wolf whistle and cheers erupting from the peanut gallery of their coworkers he had forgotten. Whipping his head around to glare at his subordinates, he presses Cui Buqu’s face back into his neck. He can’t risk anyone else seeing him smile like that and gaining another rival.
Scanning the crowd, he finds Qin Miaoyu waving at him to get his attention. She gestures at the phone she’s pointing right at them and mouths that she would send him the video afterwards. He decided he needed to give his salary a significant raise, yesterday. Feng Xiao grins in response and gently fishes his wallet from his back pocket, careful not to jostle the sleeping man on his shoulder. Tossing her his company card, he tells her to put the cost of the department’s dinner on his tab before hooking his arms behind Cui Buqu’s knees and lifting him into a bridal carry; which elicits another round of cheers. He then promptly makes his way to the exit, leaving a scowling Xiao Lu in his wake.
Feng Xiao only sets the man in his arms down when he needs to get the door to his apartment open. Pushing it open with one hand while tugging on a lethargic but much more sober Cui Buqu with the other, Feng Xiao manages to manoeuvre him across the doorway of his house and onto the settee beside it. He then drops to his knees in front of the man and gets to work undoing the laces of Cui Buqu’s worn oxfords.
Feng Xiao is in the midst of pulling off Cui Buqu’s left shoe when he feels slender fingers carding through the hair on the crown of his head. The intimacy of the action gives him momentary pause but he shelves his analysis of Cui Buqu’s intentions in favour of taking off his other shoe. Honestly, he wants to be doing anything but address the oppressive, uncomfortable feeling developing under his ribs. He might have won some temporary war but he still couldn’t place the nature of his relationship with Cui Buqu and was beginning to wonder if would ever be able to even if given a map and a compass. Even now, he couldn’t begin to resent how opaque the man was, given that his unpredictability was what drew Feng Xiao to him in the first place. Cui Buqu lets the silence stretch before understanding Feng Xiao’s intention to ignore him. Cui Buqu strengthens his grip and pulls on the hair he was stroking, forcing Feng Xiao’s head to snap up and their gazes to lock.
Although still not entirely focused, the intensity of Cui Buqu’s searching gaze unnerves Feng Xiao, killing the protest on the tip of his tongue. “You’re upset,” is all Cui Buqu states before going back to stroking Feng Xiao’s hair. Feng Xiao can tell the man is waiting for him to respond and will stubbornly not continue until he does.
Feng Xiao lets out a soft sigh of frustration and moves to wrap his arms around Cui Buqu’s torso, gently pressing his face into his thighs in the process. He feels the heat of Cui Buqu’s gaze on his neck and braces himself in the face of mortifying uncertainty.
Staring at Cui Buqu’s socked feet through the gap in his thighs, he feels his chest swell from the feelings he can’t find the words to articulate. He cringes internally when he finally hears his voice spill from his mouth, shaky and uncertain, “Why not me? Why choose everyone else and not me?”
He feels raw, like he’s torn his heart out from his chest and laid it in Cui Buqu’s hands. The knife in his heart twists when all he hears in response is Cui Buqu’s bright laughter. His vision blurs and he is overwhelmed by a desire to run, so he moves to extricate himself from Cui Buqu’s embrace.
“Why would I need to choose you? Has there ever been any other choice? It’s you, Feng-er. It has always been you.”
Cui Buqu’s gentle tone causes Feng Xiao to freeze, he’s never heard him say anything so sincere in his life. The happiness that blooms wipes away any oppressive feeling in his chest; he feels like his heart is soaring. Anxious, he pulls away from Cui Buqu’s chest, heart pounding and gets ready to make his own grand declaration only to see the man already slumped over, his soft snores punctuating the silence in the apartment.
Feng Xiao can only bark a short irritated laugh as he watches the slow rise and fall of the chest of the man he loves, who loves him back. He’s suddenly overcome with exhaustion, after relief washes away the tension in his body; he decides to collect his dues tomorrow. “You had better not deny everything you said tomorrow,” he whispers to Cui Buqu’s unconscious body while lifting him into his bedroom.
Feng Xiao wakes when the morning light streams into the room, making him squint. It’s the most well rested he’s felt in months and the weight in his arms is a reminder of the night before. He can’t help the smile on his face as he looks down at the man curled into his side. He basks in the moment for a few more seconds before calling out, “I know you’re awake, Ququ.”
Cui Buqu lets out an irritated tsk before sitting up with his back towards Feng Xiao.
“Did you really think you could fool me? Have some more faith! You chose me after all!” Feng Xiao lets the smugness he feels creep into his voice as he drapes himself over Cui Buqu’s back. The skin to skin contact between his bare chest and Cui Buqu’s back feels electric and the giddiness from last night hits Feng Xiao with full force.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Cui Buqu bites back, tersely. Feng Xiao would have feared the words spoken last night were drunken nonsense if not for the blush creeping up the man’s neck, bringing much needed colour to his usually pallid face.
Turning away, Cui Buqu continues, “Director Feng, you really should keep your delusions of grandeur in check. Why would anyone choose anyone as annoying and egotistical as you?”
“Delusions of — you should be glad someone like me even noticed you!” Feng Xiao protests, pinching Cui Buqu’s chin and forcing him to look back at him. Feng Xiao recognises the look in his eyes as the one he gets before their hours long arguments in meeting rooms.
“Is that so? Director Feng —”
In that moment, Feng Xiao decides he’s spent enough time listening to Cui Buqu spout words he doesn’t mean and chooses to swallow them with his mouth. After all, he already knows he’ll have to hear them for the rest of his life.