Work Text:
Hold on tight, Gao Tu, or else we will fall.
The first thing Gao Tu heard was a quiet sigh. Hot, tingly, gentle, on the verge of a kiss. He shuddered. Distant car whirs and the night wind filtered into his consciousness. He was a bit cold.
But his body was on fire. Somebody was hugging him gingerly, pressing him to their chest with a whole arm. A broad palm heated his shoulder.
Gao Tu sighed into another man’s shoulder. He was being carried. Carried with tender care, like the most precious treasure ever existed. Like a loved one would be carried. Or a divinely beautiful omega.
But it was Gao Tu. Gao Tu was a “beta”.
An ungrateful beta, who felt uncomfortable despite all the efforts of the one holding him.
He unclenched his numb fingers, which were desperately clenching a gray jacket on a strong back, and tried to straighten himself up. But involuntarily pressed himself even closer to the man. Colorful street lights whirled before his eyes.
A light iris smell hit his nose.
“Hey, calm down. Stay still,” Wenlang’s voice sounded right next to Gao Tu’s ear.
Gao Tu froze. He crumpled the fabric of the jacket once again. Indeed, it felt familiar.
But… it couldn’t be, right? Even though he was completely wasted after this corporate party, the way he was carried… it couldn’t be Wenlang. There was no way. Wenlang would’ve held him by his shoulders, at worst he would’ve carried him on his back. But letting Gao Tu sit in his arms, lean tightly, body to body, hug him eagerly, crumpling his jacket, like some kind of a school loverboy? No, this is completely absurd.
Gao Tu remembered knocking back glass after glass, he remembered pouring drinks for someone. They poured him back even more, and for the first time in his career he decided to accept it, because he was sure it was his last corporate party in this department.
His previous heat never came. It was an alarming sign. A sign that foreshadowed that the next heat would be just gruesome. Protracted or, even worse, chaotic, intermittent and unpredictable. He was advised to wait it out under medical supervision, like he had time for that. Of course he didn’t.
He would take day-offs again. Timings wouldn’t fit his legend about a partner. Shen Wenlang would be furious. Something was bound to go wrong.
And he would quit. It was long overdue.
The fever was coming and going in short rapid waves for several days now. Intoxicating, flooring fever. There was no point in coming up with another lie. Enough.
That’s why he drank. He laughed off the nagging Wenlang nearby. He gave nonsensical compliments to his favorite colleagues. He called a taxi and was walked towards it by his closest friends. He kicked Wenlang out of the car, and passed out, leaning his hot forehead against the cold window.
And all of that, just everything, right down to the smell of Wenlang’s skin, felt almost like a dream. Gao Tu knew: as soon as he opened his eyes wider, the humming engine would add to the overall noise in his head, and the night city would flash past the window in a jumble of lights again.
“Why did you even drink so much? I thought you don’t drink,” rustled in his ear, cautiously and slightly worried.
Gao Tu stayed silent. Should he tell him the truth? He was scared, even in a dream. It was a nice dream, and Gao Tu didn’t want to turn it into a nightmare with his own hands.
“Gao Tu…” went on the voice almost pleadingly, with an un-Wenlang softness.
Gao Tu hugged him tighter to not fall instantly when this bliss ended.
“What truth do you want to hear?” he mumbled in a dull voice into his shoulder. “The truth for the secretariat? The truth for Gao Qing? For the doctors? Or the one for Shen Wenlang?”
“Gao Tu..?”
Gao Tu smirked.
“No one will ever know the truth for Gao Tu. It’s a ridiculous truth. But…” Gao Tu raised his head once again, with an intent to assure him that other truths are also worth listening to. But the world was flickering before his eyes, a vague anxiety in his mind mirrored the distant sign lights.
Gao Tu buried his nose again in the shoulder and began to follow the shadows on the uneven concrete road with his eyes.
“Ah, never mind. I’ll resign soon. And both of us will forget about it…”
Someday.
“Resign? Why?” he was cut off hastily.
The voice sounded unexpectedly clear, right above his ear. Trying to sound soft, as with any other question. But Gao Tu heard the voice trembling, and the more it tried to stay hidden, the more obvious was the rising panic in it.
Gao Tu smiled. It was unthinkable to hear Wenlang speaking in such a tone. As if Gao Tu had some kind of power over him. As if he wasn’t just a schoolmate to him.
As if Wenlang was into him.
With every second Gao Tu got more and more convinced it was just a dream.
Euphoria went to his head.
Should he tell him? This one time, tell him everything that had never been told and that would be buried soon under the routine, hospital bills and Gao Ming’s debt receipts.
“You wanna know why?” asked Gao Tu with a smirk on his face.
“Yes,” Wenlang answered, slightly anxious, but firm.
Gao Tu rose up a bit and reached to his very ear.
“Because Shen Wenlang despises omegas.”
His own voice sounded alien. Low-toned, wry. An involuntary chuckle escaped Gao Tu.
The back under his palms stiffened. But they kept walking.
“Did something happen to your omega?”
Gao Tu burst out laughing. He bit his lip, giggling, trying to calm down.
“There never was any omega.”
“But you told me…”
“The truth for Shen Wenlang. Remember? You can still choose one…” Gao Tu suggested. His thoughts scattered and confused, he couldn’t remember where he was leading to and what he started with.
The palm on his back crumpled his t-shirt. Then it relaxed a bit. Gao Tu got pressed a little closer to the hot chest.
“What else does Shen Wenlang not know?”
Gao Tu huffed and began following the shadows passing by the road with his eyes again.
“Shen Wenlang doesn’t know the half of it.”
The fingers on Gao Tu’s back twitched impulsively.
“That’s why I need to flee. The only thing Shen Wenlang loathes more than omegas is lies. I know that too.
“And you still…” the voice stumbled. Gao Tu couldn’t quite read the tone. But it didn’t matter now.
“You’ll never find out. So it’s okay. You never doubted that I was a beta. You never asked me about my mother. You have no idea what kind of person my father is. A-Qing will have her surgery soon, and we will leave. And it will be over. Once and for all.”
“Gao Tu, you…”
“What would you do if you knew? Would you accept me, like you accepted secretary Hua? Would you catch me when I fall, even reeking of sage? It’s hard to pretend I don’t feel pheromones, Shen Wenlang. I’m tired. Besides, I’m tired of being jealous of you.”
Gao Tu looked at his face, iris fragrance messing with his head.
“I shouldn’t have fallen in love with you, Shen Wenlang,” he concluded coldly.
And then buried his nose in his shoulder again, noticing only a shocked look.
They stayed silent for some time. Gao Tu listened to Wenlang’s ragged breathing and crumpled the jacket with his fingers, preparing for the fall.
But it was worth it. The euphoria strengthened, blending with a crushing weight in his chest.
“You could’ve told me,” a cracked voice broke the silence.
“To lose not only you, but my job too? I’m still in my right mind,” Gao Tu smirked. Then kept silent for a moment. “You have no idea how expensive the treatment is these days. For both of us.”
“Why didn’t you ask me for help? I’m always…”
“I still have conscience, Shen Wenlang,” Gao Tu cut him off.
It was nice, telling the truth without embellishing it or hushing it up. Yet it wasn’t easy. Gao Tu tore this truth out with the flesh from the very depths of his consciousness, where only he himself was allowed to approach. He would’ve gone crazy the next day if all of that had been for real.
He said too much. Too many things he was afraid to say out loud even to himself.
He sighed. His glasses fogged up slightly.
And yet, there was more.
“But, you know,” his voice still sounded dull, but calm at the same time, almost detached, “we’re not that different.”
“What do you mean?”
“You never asked me about anything. So did I. It was fair, Shen Wenlang. But you’re the same. I hide behind my lies, and you hide behind your hatred. It’s not as difficult as it seems.”
Wenlang remained tensely silent.
“Gao Tu.”
“Mm?..”
“We’ll talk later no matter what.”
“Mm-hm,” Gao Tu nodded, getting himself comfortable on his shoulder.
His head was buzzling, street light was shining through his half-closed eyelids and hurt his eyes. He felt a little nauseous.
He didn’t know if he really heard a quiet “thank you”, or he just imagined it on the verge of a dream as the iris scent enveloped him.
Street noises dissolved in his quiet breathing and in the rustle of cloth in his fingers.
And gave way to silence.