Work Text:
Cheng Xiaoshi saw the text too late.
Running through the streets faster than he had ever before, he had his phone clutched in a white-knuckled grip. His black hair whipped around in his face, the ponytail elastic long since fallen out, left on the worn brick five blocks ago. His breath came in short bursts as he skidded around the corner— the last stretch before he could see the streaky green paint of the photo studio. The wind was cold and bone-chilling despite the scorching sun, but Cheng Xiaoshi persisted, confident that he could get there just in time. That he wouldn’t have to give it all up. His phone buzzed in his hands, but he ignored it, putting all of his focus into his leg muscles. The photo studio was coming up fast. Without much time to stop, he practically slid to a halt, which tipped his balance and caused him to fall. Catching himself on the rough road, he paid no mind to the newly scraped skin on his palms as he scrambled back onto his feet and all but burst through the door of Time Photo Studio.
The doorchime of “Welcome, customer!” Seemed to mock him as he watched the scene in front of him with horror.
Lu Guang stood at the counter, his head happily tilted back with an expression that was so serene, Cheng Xiaoshi couldn’t begin to describe how it made him feel. The sun streamed through the trees outside the window so that Lu Guang seemed to be standing in a flashing, ever-moving spotlight that made him look like an angel. Cheng Xiaoshi, in the meantime, was sure he looked like a hideous, sweaty, gross monster. His hair stuck to his face in an unattractive way, his cheeks and forehead were all hot and red, and he was huffing and puffing as if he had just run two marathons back to back. Which, to be fair, he basically did. Meanwhile, Lu Guang was standing there like he had just discovered heaven on earth. Scratch that, Lu Guang looked like heaven on earth. It didn’t matter, though. The subject of his desires? The reason Cheng Xiaoshi had run so fast from the other side of town?
“MY NOODLES!” Cheng Xiaoshi yelped, grasping the opposite side of the counter from Lu Guang. “YOU ATE MY NOODLES.”
Cheng Xiaoshi stared at the empty takeout container between the two, discarded chopsticks resting inside. Honestly, he felt like he could cry. This was complete, utter betrayal. He lowered his sweaty forehead against the cool countertop with a wail.
“Lu Guang… I can’t believe you did this to me,” he whimpered, voice breaking dramatically. Betrayal always hurts worse when it’s someone you love, Cheng Xiaoshi thought to himself. It was only after Lu Guang didn’t say anything for several long seconds that Cheng Xiaoshi turned his head so that his cheek was on the counter instead, looking up at Lu Guang.
Yellow eyes met the cold, icy blue gaze that he usually received from Lu Guang, full of what Cheng Xiaoshi chalked up to be annoyance, and, he pretended, a little spark of humor, because, of course, nobody was completely immune to his charm. That being said, something was… off with Lu Guang. It wasn’t obvious to anybody who knew Lu Guang as “that guy that never talks or smiles,” but to someone close to Lu Guang, like Cheng Xiaoshi, the problem was barely apparent. His eyes were open juuuuust slightly wider than the usual glare. It was as if he were in awe of how fast Cheng Xiaoshi ran. The black-haired boy couldn’t hide his grin. He couldn’t blame him, it was pretty impressive.
Lu Guang had been coldly staring for the better part of a minute now, while Xiaoshi had been staring back, looking at his tells for an answer. Nothing, as usual. Cheng Xiaoshi almost thought he was hallucinating the bead of sweat on his temple. Cheng Xiaoshi hated the silence, searching for something to say.
“What, nervous? Scared because I caught you in the act?” Cheng Xiaoshi challenged, just to get a reaction out of Lu Guang. It worked. He finally moved, and something between a scoff and a quiet curse tumbled out of the white-haired boy’s mouth.
“I sent you a picture asking if it was yours,” Lu Guang explained, a calmer, less intense look returning to his face. “You didn’t respond.”
“I,” Cheng Xiaoshi stressed with a tight grin, “was working, getting information from this sweet old couple about the robbery. But I should’ve known that the real thief,” he leaned forward, across the counter and into Lu Guang’s space. “Was STANDING right HERE!”
“You didn’t respond,” Lu Guang repeated, leaning backwards, presumably away from the sweaty black-haired boy.
Cheng Xiaoshi clenched his fist against the counter, pulling his phone back out and looking at the messages Lu Guang had sent him.
Guangyyyy 😾:
Someone dropped off food.
Is it yours?
[Attachment: 1 image]
(Read)
Cheng Xiaoshi opened the message he got while he was running.
(1 New Message):
Guangyyyy 😾:
I’m eating it.
(Delivered)
A long groan of despair left Cheng Xiaoshi’s lungs as he sank to his knees on the ground, his head between his hands.
“Why do bad things always happen to meeeee….” He whined. He missed the way Lu Guang tensed for half a second. He didn’t miss Lu Guang’s sigh.
“Idiot,” he breathes. “I’ll buy you another one when we’re finished with the current job.”
Cheng Xiaoshi looks up, seeing the earnestness on Lu Guang’s face before letting out his own sigh.
“Don’t bother. I only bought it and got it delivered because they would’ve closed before I had the chance to walk over there. It was their last batch ever of those particular noodles.”
Lu Guang blinked at that. He opened his mouth to apologize, but Cheng Xiaoshi stopped him.
“You can make it up to me,” the black-haired boy smirked, getting up from the floor and leaning on the counter. Lu Guang straightened again, that same look from before returning to his face. Cheng Xiaoshi grinned.
“Make me dumplings!”
-
Cheng Xiaoshi, hair now back into his signature half-ponytail, couldn’t say they were the best dumplings that Lu Guang had made. These ones were just a bit less flavorful than usual, and the filling nearly spilled out of each, as if Lu Guang had rushed the making of them so that Cheng Xiaoshi could eat sooner. There was no love put into these!
Cheng Xiaoshi had gotten the information they needed for the job, putting the robber squarely behind bars. It didn’t take long at all— the robber was sloppy at best. Lu Guang, in the (short) meantime, had made dumplings just for him.
Speaking of which, the white-haired boy was practically hovering. Cheng Xiaoshi fought off the smile on his face.
“How is it?” Lu Guang asked, uncrossing his legs from where he sat on the sofa next to Cheng Xiaoshi. “Not too salty?”
Cheng Xiaoshi hummed. He asks that every time, he thinks with a twitch of his lips.
“Compared to the noodles I didn’t eat? Greaaat.” He said, just to give Lu Guang a hard time. That earned him a slap on the arm. Cheng Xiaoshi took another bite of a dumpling, leaning back and closing his eyes, before a brilliant idea had him shooting upright and almost choking. Lu Guang gave him a couple of thumps on the back.
Once Cheng Xiaoshi had hacked enough (‘Very attractive,’ he thought to himself), he turned to Lu Guang with bright, sparkly eyes.
“Lu Guang, you’re a genius!” He exclaimed. Lu Guang blinked at him, his face the epitome of unimpressed. Cheng Xiaoshi fumbled for a second, searching for his phone, before finally pulling it from his pocket and pulling up the messages that Lu Guang had sent him. Lu Guang clearly caught on, even before Cheng Xiaoshi explained.
“No,” Lu Guang said, seriously. Cheng Xiaoshi didn’t like things to be serious.
“GuangGuannnnnggg….” He crooned, leaning in with the sweetest, most charming smile he could muster. “Come onnn, I’ve done it before, and nothing went wrong!”
Lu Guang shook his head. “It’s unnecessary,” he said, sending a short glare towards Cheng Xiaoshi.
“It’s your fault that I don’t have my noodles!” Cheng Xiaoshi shoved the picture of his dearly departed food into Lu Guang’s face, activating his puppy-eyes.
“I said, no.” The white-haired boy turned his head away. Cheng Xiaoshi could feel his oncoming victory as he saw Lu Guang’s lips twitch.
“But, GuangGuang, I’m just so hungry…!” Xiaoshi pleaded, hands clasped in a prayer-like manner. Lu Guang whipped his head back around.
”I made you food!” He raised his voice slightly, annoyedly motioning to the dumplings. Xiaoshi saw his opportunity and took it immediately with a grin, pulling back his arm quickly and bringing it down, slapping Lu Guang’s palm.
He felt the familiar free-fall of time travel immediately, the exhilarating whoosh in his stomach, coupled with Lu Guang’s angry groan that echoed in his mind. He blinked, and suddenly Cheng Xiaoshi was no longer himself, but a couple-of-hours-younger version of Lu Guang, holding up his phone in the act of taking a picture.
Cheng Xiaoshi— or, rather, Lu Guang— giggled mischievously. He picked up the chopsticks and snapped them apart, already drooling at the thought of eating those delicious noodles.
“Send the message, idiot,” Lu Guang’s voice rang out. “Don’t mess up the timeline just because you’re so distracted by food.” Cheng Xiaoshi blinked.
“Ah, right,” he mumbled, reopening Lu Guang’s messages and sending the photo and a quick text, mimicking the serious way that the white-haired boy messages people.
“Good enough, your highness?” Cheng Xiaoshi said out loud, once the picture had been sent. He heard only a scoff in return. Cheng Xiaoshi smiled cheekily at that before finally readjusting his grip on the chopsticks and taking the first bite.
“Ahh, so good…” He whispered aloud, cupping his face and closing his eyes as what must’ve been the secret to eternal happiness slid down his throat. His mind flashed unhelpfully back to when he barged into the photo studio to see Lu Guang poised basically just like this, eating the last bit of noodles. Cheng Xiaoshi couldn’t really be mad anymore, not after finally tasting it. Hell, if he were Lu Guang (which he was, right now), he wouldn’t hesitate to scarf all of this down, either.
He was basically shoving the noodles into his mouth when Lu Guang’s voice made him pause.
“You’re about to come around the corner now,” he said, voice resigned. “Send the other message.”
Cheng Xiaoshi groaned at the interruption between him and his true love (the noodles, of course), but pulled Lu Guang’s phone out and sent the message anyway. He made sure to savour the last few bites and chewed slowly. Sure enough, as he was slurping the last few noodles up, tilting his head back with a contented sigh, the movement out of the corner of his eye got closer and barged in through the door.
Cheng Xiaoshi, as Lu Guang, paused as a terrible, painful kind of adrenaline coursed through his veins. He saw Cheng Xiaoshi, as Cheng Xiaoshi, standing disheveled and, frankly, wet, and suddenly it was like his entire body was on fire. His eyes roamed past-Xiaoshi, like he couldn’t look away. Lu Guang’s heart was going a million miles a minute (it’s a super weird sensation, by the way, to feel someone else’s heart).
Past-Xiaoshi’s hair was completely wind-tossed and tangled, his bangs practically plastered to his face. Lu Guang’s hands got cold, almost clammy, and shaky.
Past-Xiaoshi was sweaty and probably even a bit smelly. Current-Xiaoshi felt Lu Guang’s own bout of sweat.
Past-Xiaoshi was breathing heavily, his face all red from over-exertion. Current-Xiaoshi would’ve been certain that Lu Guang’s face would have looked the same, like there were fire ants in his cheeks, but he had seen the look on Lu Guang’s face himself. He didn’t even realize that past-Xiaoshi was saying anything until he leapt forward, grasping onto the counter, yelling about his noodles, until he felt like his own legs were going out, his entire body wobbly.
Cheng Xiaoshi had no idea he looked that beautiful.
“Lu Guang… I can’t believe you did this to me,” Past-Xiaoshi whimpered, resting his forehead on the counter, and— with the way Lu Guang’s body reacted, his chest losing air and his stomach dropping to his feet— he had no idea how his heart didn’t just break into a million pieces right then and there.
Then, past-Xiaoshi turned his head to look into Lu Guang’s eyes, and all the painful, heart-palpitating feelings started right back up, if not stronger this time. He had to fight the insane urge to grab his chest, just to make sure his heart wasn’t phasing right through his ribs, but with the way past-Xiaoshi was looking at him, he wasn’t sure he could move at all, except maybe to faint. He didn’t want to move. He wanted to stay right in this moment, Cheng Xiaoshi looking at him like he was the only person in the world.
All of time seemed to drop away for a moment as past-Xiaoshi searched Lu Guang’s face, before a lopsided grin that made his ears burn crept onto his face. ‘Shit, shit.’ Cheng Xiaoshi thought. He couldn’t stop staring into yellow eyes.
‘...I didn’t know that Lu Guang had heart problems.’
The black-haired boy in front of him finally tilted his body up slightly. “What, nervous? Scared because I caught you in the act?” Past-Xiaoshi challenged. Past-Lu Guang somehow managed to gape with his mouth closed.
“Just- say something-” Lu Guang spoke into his mind, and current-Xiaoshi remembered how to work again, albeit while letting out a gulp, sigh, scoff, and another “Shit-” all at the same time.
“I sent you a picture asking if it was yours,” current-Xiaoshi recited, taking a few breaths. “You didn’t respond.”
“I,” Cheng Xiaoshi stressed with a tight smile, “was working, getting information from this sweet old couple about the robbery. But I should’ve known that the real thief,” he leaned forward, across the counter and into Lu Guang’s space, which made his face heat up impossibly more. Lu Guang’s heartrate picked up into something nauseating as past-Cheng Xiaoshi continued, “Was STANDING right HERE!”
“You didn’t respond,” past-Lu Guang repeated, panicked, leaning backwards, in hopes that would alleviate the pain. He didn’t really want to move away, either.
Current-Lu Guang, who was supposed to guide him, was being eerily quiet.
Past-Xiaoshi shot past-Lu Guang a short look, before pulling out his phone to check. Current-Xiaoshi took this as a perfect opportunity to get the hell out of there. Moving his hands under the counter, Cheng Xiaoshi/Lu Guang clapped quietly.
-
Whoosh went his stomach.
Plop went his ass on the sofa.
A perfectly normal rhythm of thump-thump went his heart when he put his hand to his chest.
Cheng Xiaoshi took a second to recollect himself, triple-checking that he wasn't going to pass out from the change in bodily functions, before turning slowly to face Lu Guang, trying to figure out what to even say. His best friend, the person he trusted with his life, couldn’t tell him about this big secret?
The aforementioned man had his upper body completely twisted away from Cheng Xiaoshi, hunched over with his elbow on his knee and his head in his hand. Clearly, Lu Guang was trying (and failing) to avoid him. Cheng Xiaoshi took in a breath.
“Lu Guang,” he started. Lu Guang stiffened. “Why didn’t you tell me?” Cheng Xiaoshi’s voice was quiet, patient. Lu Guang didn’t answer. The two sat in silence for a moment, illuminated only by the ceiling lamp. The dumplings sat cold and discarded in front of them.
“It’s nothing to be ashamed of,” Cheng Xiaoshi tried again, fidgeting with his hands. The white-haired boy’s body language shifted a bit, like he was paying attention. A bit of his face could be seen now, and his skin was slightly tinted red. Huh.
“I’m sure Qiao Ling’s dad could help you with paying for medication,” he said softly.
That must’ve snapped Lu Guang out of it. He sat up straighter, eyes panning over to Cheng Xiaoshi’s face, searching it for any sign that he was joking. Any sign of… facial redness… was gone.
“...What?” Lu Guang nearly whispered, a mix between incredulity and annoyance. Cheng Xiaoshi felt bad for him. How could someone go this long without telling anyone?
“I mean, dude. Lu Guang. That was painful. Have you been dealing with that all on your own?”
“What do you mean by ‘medication’?” Lu Guang asked, his eyes narrowing. It was Cheng Xiaoshi’s turn to wear an incredulous expression.
“For the insane chest pain? The palpitations?”
Lu Guang stared.
“What?” The white-haired boy asked.
“What?” The black-haired boy repeated.
Silence took hold again as they both stared at each other, growing more confused with each passing second, before Lu Guang slowly hid his face in his hands and took a deep breath, as if he were trying to stop himself from murdering the man sitting next to him.
“Why don’t you tell me what you think happened, Xiaoshi?” Lu Guang muttered from behind his hands.
“Well, to make a long story short, you ate my noodles and then started having the absolute worst blood flow known to modern medicine,” said Cheng Xiaoshi. He shifts his weight to lean towards the white-haired boy. “Okay, wait, are you telling me you don’t have a heart problem?”
Cheng Xiaoshi leans in more to where Lu Guang’s face is after he doesn’t get an immediate answer, trying to see if he’s dead or not. Lu Guang drops his hands, glaring at Xiaoshi. The tips of his ears are pink, Xiaoshi notes.
“No, you’re right, I really do need medicine,” he sighs angrily, standing up and walking out of the sunroom. Cheng Xiaoshi stares after him.
“I can call Qiao Ling’s dad tomorrow,” he calls after him. Lu Guang waves him off, starting up the stairs.
“Don’t bother,” he dismisses, before muttering something in English. Cheng Xiaoshi catches the ‘Idiot,’ and nothing else.
-
It happens again, much later, when Cheng Xiaoshi is inhabiting Lu Guang again.
The bulletwound pulls at his side, but he doesn’t care. He can barely feel it anyway.
“Oh good,” He says, breathing heavily over Cheng Xiaoshi’s face, streaked in surprise and awe. He’s practically pinning Cheng Xiaoshi to the ground, breaking whatever freaky Li Tianchen mind control he’s under.
“Right on time.”
And all Cheng Xiaoshi in Lu Guang’s body can do is muster all the strength not to collapse into a melting heap of goo and a pounding heartbeat.
-
Cheng Xiaoshi is bleeding out.
He got shot.
He’s bleeding out on the floor of the darkroom.
It’s alright though. He can’t feel anything other than a dull ache. There’s too much adrenaline pumping through him right now.
And besides, Lu Guang is here, too.
He can tell that the haze of white in his vision is moving, is speaking, but he can’t hear much. Blood spurts up from his throat. Someone’s crying. It’s probably him, because Lu Guang never cries.
There’s a pain in his heart, but it’s not from the gunshot. His legs and arms are like jello, but it’s not from running and kicking and punching and falling.
Well, he supposes, it is because he’s fallen. In a way.
He’s finally figured it out, then.
Cheng Xiaoshi moves his hand blindly for only a second before finding Lu Guang’s fingers, wrapping around them as much as he can.
His other hand comes to rest over his own heart.
“Lu Guang,” He stutters out. Cold, wet, stickiness soaks into his shirt and his hair.
“I’m sorry.”
Cheng Xiaoshi smiles. It’s difficult to hold his muscles in place.
“Lu.. Guang, please…”
Cheng Xiaoshi is a good fighter. But he’s so, so tired. Maybe a nap will be good for now.
Maybe he’ll wake up later on the couch in the sunroom, his head on Lu Guang’s lap.
Maybe those cold, clammy fingers will run through his sweat-soaked hair.
Maybe some mediocre dumplings will be cooking in the kitchen.
Maybe he’ll tell Lu Guang that his heart hurts in the same way.
Yeah, that seems nice. They’ll hurt together, like always.
“Save them.” He breathes.