Work Text:
Lu Guang was not an expressive person.
He had his moments where he burst with rage or overflowed with worry, but he did his best to keep his emotions in check. Qiao Ling and Cheng Xiaoshi could hardly picture his smile—it was a sight so rare that the thought of it seemed bizarre. They recalled a time when he was ecstatic over chicken, but while they laughed in the moment, a sickening feeling lingered beneath it. It was weird that the happiest they’d seen Lu Guang was because of food, but that was beside the point. Other times, the slightest bit of contentment showed up when stray kitties approached him while they were out. But overall, his lips remained a straight line.
Simply put, he always looked okay.
Not booming with excitement, not drowning in sorrow—just fine.
Lu Guang was also really good at calming himself down when he did have those big emotions. Thanks to his time with Lu Dashan, he had learned how to show only the parts people “wanted to see”, and that was indifference.
If Cheng Xiaoshi or Qiao Ling were asked to describe Lu Guang’s expression most of the time, they’d answer: neutral—actually, nonchalant.
Cheng Xiaoshi would snicker. Yeah, nonchalant was definitely the right word to describe Lu Guang most of the time.
But what Qiao Ling and Cheng Xiaoshi didn’t know was that while Lu Guang was good at calming himself down and keeping a composed expression no matter the situation, that didn't mean he was stress-free. His ability to school his emotions wasn't a talent, but a skill he had acquired over the years.
Besides, how helpful was it to lie to everyone, all the time?
Lu Guang didn't know how to be open; every time he was, in his childhood home, he was met with boiling anger and harsh blows. Lu Dashan taught him that in order to survive, he had to push through and keep his struggles to himself. He was told that if an adult ever approached him and asked if he was okay, he was to reply with: “I’m fine.”
So that was what he did. If a stranger approached him in the city, someone with obviously good intentions, pointing out his bruises and black eye, he would refuse to go with them and assure them that he was alright. Although they never believed him, always two seconds away from calling the police to report an injured kid, Lu Guang insisted. When they ignored him, he ran.
Lu Guang ran and ran and ran.
It was the only thing he never failed at doing. It was the only thing Lu Dashan consistently praised him for.
He was good at pretending he was fine. Great, even.
* * *
“You’re so selfish,” Cheng Xiaoshi shouted, fists clenched at his sides. “You-! Lu Guang—how could you do this?! How could you- I don’t understand- so your rules-?!” It didn’t make sense to him.
Without thinking, he violently shoved Lu Guang against the wall. Lu Guang’s eyes widened as he tried to push himself up, but Cheng Xiaoshi easily closed the distance and pinned his arms at his sides.
No- no, no, no, no—
Cheng Xiaoshi was looming over him, far from holding back. His grip around Lu Guang’s wrists tightened; they hurt, and Lu Guang knew it was on purpose. Cheng Xiaoshi wanted to harm him. He wanted Lu Guang to know just how badly he’d fucked up.
“Guys, that’s enou—“ Qiao Ling tried to interfere, tired of watching on the sidelines, but Cheng Xiaoshi snapped at her too.
He didn’t lay a finger on her—he could never—but he yelled at her not to butt into something only between him and Lu Guang.
She scoffed from behind him. “Only between you and Lu Guang? Are you kidding me? Am I just nothing in the grand scheme of things?! This involves me too! I was the one who saw the visions—memories, I don’t know! I was trying to find the right time to bring it up, but then this- this all happened and—“
“Stay out of this, Qiao Ling!” Cheng Xiaoshi’s voice rose again; Lu Guang didn’t think that was possible. His handle on Lu Guang’s wrists burned.
His wrists were red, warm, almost what blood was like. This scene was too familiar, his mind wanting to replace Cheng Xiaoshi with that man—but he couldn’t. No, he wasn’t there anymore. He was in the photo studio, not bleeding but still hurting under different circumstances.
Why did it always end like this when he made a mistake? He’d never resort to violence if he was outraged, though perhaps that was due to his inability to put someone through whatever his childhood consisted of.
Cheng Xiaoshi hardened his glare and pushed him closer to the wall. It was getting difficult to breathe. It didn’t help that he was panicking.
Deep down, he wished he was bleeding because maybe Cheng Xiaoshi would back off a little if he noticed how aggressive he was acting. Lu Guang didn’t know what to do from here, didn’t know how to fix all of this. Cheng Xiaoshi had figured out the truth, and there was no hiding anymore.
“Lu Guang,” Cheng Xiaoshi’s words sounded like a warning. “You’re a hypocrite- why- why would you-“
“I couldn’t live without you—” The only answer he could muster, his face neutral—or at least, as neutral as he could manage.
That wasn’t a good enough reason, Cheng Xiaoshi decided.
“That’s it?! That’s it, Lu Guang?!” Cheng Xiaoshi’s grip squeezed tighter. Lu Guang winced at the pressure, Cheng Xiaoshi’s nails digging into his skin. “What happened to past and future, must remain untouched?! Was that all just some stupid rule you made for me that you’re allowed to break whenever?!”
Lu Guang tried to shake his head, although that was exactly how things were. “No- I-”
“You’re sick-” Cheng Xiaoshi grimaced, staring down at him, eyes beginning to glisten. “You’re so fucking hypocritical. I almost dived back for you, but I knew that you would never forgive me, so I didn’t- but you just-” he sucked in a heavy breath, fighting to blink away the tears.
And all Lu Guang could do was stare at him, speechless. This was the first time he’d ever heard about this. He didn’t know Cheng Xiaoshi had thought about diving back—he'd never been clued in, having never asked about Cheng Xiaoshi’s time in custody. Did Cheng Xiaoshi want to keep this a secret for life? But? It slipped out because he was charged with emotions?
They weren’t so different after all—
No. That wasn’t true. Cheng Xiaoshi didn’t go through with it; he was too good a person. Lu Guang was not even half the person his partner was. He could not resist temptation. Not when he finally had something—someone worth living for.
“I didn’t, because you always told me not to, and I care too much about you to go against your words-” Cheng Xiaoshi continued, frustratingly giving up on trying not to cry. This was so fucked up. “How could you, Lu Guang? How could you be so selfish? I don’t understand-”
He didn’t know.
“Why me? What makes me so different from everyone else who—” Cheng Xiaoshi choked on a sob.
Lu Guang’s mouth remained shut. He had nothing to say to defend his actions.
He was a hypocrite, and he knew this. There was nothing he could do to excuse his actions, nothing he could say to justify what he had done. All he could do was take the blows and hope that he would still have a family once the yelling died down.
“I need-” Cheng Xiaoshi sucked in a breath and forcefully let go of him. He ran his fingers through his hair, overwhelmed by the moment's emotions. His gaze landed anywhere but on Lu Guang; he couldn’t bring himself to look at him, afraid he’d just get angrier, wary of repeating that time after the earthquake mission. “I need space- I just-” his head turned slightly, but not enough to lock eyes with his partner. Instead, he shook his head and rushed up the stairs.
A loud slam echoed through the studio as Cheng Xiaoshi locked himself in their bedroom.
Qiao Ling didn’t miss how harshly Lu Guang flinched.
She did not point it out.
For a few minutes, silence surrounded them. Neither Qiao Ling nor he moved, both glued to their places. At one point, he caught a quiet sniffle from his friend, and the pit in his stomach grew larger.
He messed up. He messed everything up.
“I- I’m sorry-” Qiao Ling cried into her hands, sobs shaking through her body. If Lu Guang was even the slightest bit good at comforting people, he would have pulled her into his arms. But he could only stare helplessly, standing there uselessly. “I shouldn’t have told him like that- I didn’t think-” Guilt spilled out with every word she croaked out through sobs.
Forcing his tears at bay, Lu Guang shook his head and gradually fell onto the couch in the sunroom. He apologized internally for not being able to console her. “No- it’s not...” his breath hitched, and he promptly shut his mouth before a cry escaped.
It wasn’t Qiao Ling’s fault. She wasn’t the one who decided to go against the rules and try to change the past. Qiao Ling had every right to tell Cheng Xiaoshi what she had discovered, because Lu Guang didn’t think he would’ve ever done it himself if it were up to him. He wasn’t brave enough for that, even if he knew that Cheng Xiaoshi didn’t deserve to be kept in the dark.
But he did wish that he could’ve explained himself more. If he could rewind time—hah, funny—he would ask Qiao Ling to let him confess everything. Maybe he could’ve made Cheng Xiaoshi understand. Maybe he could’ve worded things in a way that lessened his partner’s anger.
Did he deserve that kind of relief?
No, probably not.
People like him shouldn’t get an easy way out. He chose to go back in time. No one coerced him into making these decisions. He had everything coming for him.
Still, that didn’t make it any easier to accept.
No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t hold back the tears. At first, he let out a tiny hiccup, until suddenly, he was openly bawling. Qiao Ling didn’t know how to react—she’d never seen him like that before. For a second, she just stood there, taking in every sob until she wiped her own tears and placed a hand on his back in an attempt to comfort him.
But he gave a small head shake and lightly pushed her hand away.
“Lu Guang…” she muttered, wanting to reach out again but knowing her comfort would only be rejected.
He choked on another cry. “I’m fine- I’m fine-” Qiao Ling tried to object, but he was stubborn and just kept going. “Go talk to Cheng Xiao- Xiaoshi… he needs it more than me-”
“But, you-”
“Please.” He begged, hiding his face from her view. He didn’t deserve her reassurance, not when he was the one in the wrong. Cheng Xiaoshi needed his sister, and Lu Guang couldn’t ruin yet another thing. “Please just- I’m fine-” he repeated, knowing Qiao Ling would never believe him, but he was frantic.
It took him a couple more pleas, but eventually, she nodded, not wanting to keep going back and forth, and quietly crept up the stairs. He heard her knock on the bedroom door before calling out to Cheng Xiaoshi. Lu Guang held his breath, waiting for a reaction, waiting to hear his partner’s voice. The silence stretched a beat too long; he almost thought Cheng Xiaoshi would ignore her, but finally the door opened, and Qiao Ling was let inside.
As the door shut, Lu Guang let out a sigh of relief (or as close to it as he could get; it was more like an airy cry), though he was still tense and shaken.
However, this was alright. This was how it should be. He wasn’t entitled to their love and support—especially not after doing something this terrible.
Not after he had been selfish for so long.
But even so, he didn’t let go of this desire. Couldn’t.
Overwhelmed by shame yet drowning in desperation, Lu Guang hoped he would still have a place to call home when he ultimately had to face Cheng Xiaoshi.