Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

His eyes rove over the last three paragraphs that he has been working on for the past hour. One fist clenches while the other hand moves up to the backspace button. At first, his finger is just strumming on it, then tapping, and by the time he finishes, he is practically pounding the key off, almost an entire page of his work now gone.

He pulls off his glasses and rubs the bridge of his nose.

“What happened now?” he hears the voice behind him and knows without looking back that Yibo is still fully immersed in whatever game he is playing on his phone. The occasional commentary is only to acknowledge each other’s presence and doesn’t really merit an answer.

And so, he doesn’t give one.

“What did Lan Wangji do now?” Yibo asks after a beat and this time he does look back, surprised.

He knows that Yibo occasionally remembers bits from whatever web novel he is working on at the time, but to actually remember a character’s name… that’s new.

“He didn’t do anything. It’s Wei Wuxian that’s the problem.” He mutters, turning back around to face his laptop screen. He should probably invest in a bigger screen, but he rarely worked sitting at a desk or really in any one place, moving all around his apartment throughout the day carrying his laptop, sometimes even while sitting on the toilet (if the story has really gotten into this head and he is in a writing frenzy), and thus had sacrificed everything else for mobility.

He is so lost in trying to salvage some semblance on any idea from the past hour that it takes him a minute to realize that Yibo had scoffed. He turns around again, with more attention this time.

“You have some specific thoughts about my story?” he asks, quirking an eyebrow, putting his glasses back on. Yibo is sprawled all over the recliner, a knee hooked over one of its arms and his back slouching against the other. It’s his standard pose whenever he comes over. And that has basically become Yibo’s recliner too, permanently cast in the basic shape of his lanky body, waiting to remold itself into whatever mood he is in whenever he arrived next. Which is at least every other day.

“Fuck Yibo, you’re going to kill your back that way.” He says, a familiar rejoinder between the both of them.

Yibo’s gaze flicks over in his direction quickly and there is a smirk on that face before he rearranges himself so that his spine is not quite so bent in half.

He is about to turn back to his screen when Yibo says, “I don’t have any problem with your story. Just Lan Wangji.”

He pauses, tilting his head for a moment, before he looks back at Yibo. Yibo is still focused on his game, his thumbs moving crazily over the screen.

“What’s your problem with Lan Wangji?” He asks, trying not to feel personally affronted. Lan Wangji is, in his own humble opinion, the best character he has ever written. Maybe a tad bit on the unrealistic side, but hey, he wrote web novels that toed the fantasy genre, not nonfiction.

Yibo shrugs and his fingers don’t slow as he replies, “The dude is boring as fuck. Why someone like Wei Wuxian would be so hung up on him is beyond me.”

His eyes narrow and he can feel his nostrils flare. Wei Wuxian is the bane of his existence. He has written 185,765 words of the novel thus far and has liked Wei Wuxian for about 50 of them.

“Wei Wuxian is a self-important impertinent prick who thinks he is single-handedly responsible for saving the entire world from itself. Spare me the woe.”

Even though Yibo’s eyes are still on his phone screen, he can still see them roll before he comes back with, “And Lan Wangji is a narcissistic anal-retentive asshole who lives in his own head. Who, by the way, has a weird relationship with pronouns.” Yibo’s fingers now still as he looks up. “What’s up with that anyways?”

“What?” he is taken aback, both by the question and the fact that Yibo knows enough about the story to know that detail. He is certain that they have never talked about any of his stories at length. Oh sure, Yibo occasionally indulged him when he went on his crazy writer’s rant, but frankly he knew that Yibo just suffered through them, taking the entire conversation in through one ear and letting it directly slip out the other.

“It’s a character quirk.” He answers, trying not to sound defensive.

“It’s odd. If one day I randomly said to you, “Xiao Zhan is so annoying!” instead of “You’re so fucking annoying!” wouldn’t you be creeped out? That’s not cute at all.” Yibo shakes his head and looks down to un-pause his game.

“Well yea, you saying it won’t be cute.”

“Dude, I’m way hotter than Lan Wangji.”

“In your dreams.” He scoffs now as he turns back around to his laptop. There is no one on Earth hotter than Lan Wangji.

“Lan Wangji is literally just a figment of your imagination, Xiao Zhan. You know that, right?” Yibo says it with all the sarcasm of stating the self-evident. Then he mutters, although Xiao Zhan still hears it, “And not even one of the good bits of it.”

“Oh, and you think Wei Wuxian is better?”

“Oh, 100%.” Yibo’s tone brooks no argument.

He grits his teeth and forces himself to ask, “How so?”

“He’s honest. Not afraid to go against the status quo. Acknowledges his faults when he recognizes them. Genuinely cares about others.”

“Lan Wangji cares.”

Yibo scoffs again. “Lan Wangji cares about his brother, for obvious reasons. And Wei Wuxian. Also for obvious reasons.”
“What’s so obvious about that?” Xiao Zhan interrupts.
But Yibo continues as if he had not. “It’s about his only saving grace. He tolerates the rest of mankind like they are some sort of pestilence that he must put up with for the sake of Wei Ying. The almighty Huanguan-jun. No man is an island, but that man certainly tries.” Yibo shudders.

Wei Ying? Huanguan-jun? How the f-- “Have you been reading my novel?” he asks finally, his surprise at that overtaking his offense at the rest.

He sees Yibo’s fingers stutter on the phone and it’s a long moment before he looks up. Enough time for Yibo to school his features into… that smirk, that stupid smirk that drives him up the wall.

It drives him insane enough that he gets off his chair with no warning, the force of his move making it swivel back and forth as he pulls on one of Yibo’s hands to him by the wrist.

“Ya!” Yibo shouts a warning, although given how many times they have done this throughout their life, it’s hardly a surprise.

Yibo attempts to pull his hand back, much to Xiao Zhan’s surprise, because usually Yibo – for all his bluster – will stand relatively still – that fucking smirk still in place – while Xiao Zhan pressed two fingers over his pulse. In all the times that they have done this, that pulse has only ever been anything other than eerily steady a handful of times.

Which must mean… he pulls Yibo’s wrist back, turning around so that his back is pressed into Yibo’s chest, allowing Yibo’s arm to be locked under his. He waits a moment to make sure that Yibo is not moving before he presses his fingers over the pulse. He feels it almost immediately. He knows Yibo’s pulse better than his own and it’s going double-speed now.

A gleeful smile is tugging at his lips as presses down on that little blue vein one more time before letting go. His grin is wide by the time he faces Yibo and says, “You liar. You do read my shit.”

“You just startled me. That’s all.” Yibo says now, falling back onto the couch, his eyes back on the screen.

His gestures show that he could care less, but Xiao Zhan has only known Yibo his entire life to really buy into the show of indifference.

Well, this is news indeed. His best friend has been reading his new novel. New-ish, he amended. 185,765 words could hardly be considered new. Although now he wondered exactly how long Yibo has actually been reading it. To have such strong opinions about Xiao Zhan’s fantasy idol and web novel hero, Lan Wangji, the one that had sprouted one night from his dreams, the one that he had written about so much that he is certain it’s become an obsession… the man that he may slightly be in love with…

Chapter Text

“You tell him.” Mrs. Wang whispers now, tugging on his elbow – a bold choice given that he is holding a butcher knife in his hand and about to handle the full chicken trussed up on the cutting board. He opens his mouth to say ‘no’ once more, but is forced to close it around the slice of cucumber that Mrs. Wang sticks in his mouth as if anticipating his denial.

“Yea, you tell him.” his own mom pipes in from the other side of the kitchen, pausing in cutting carrots at sonic speed. Her knife skills are unparalleled and he has always been frankly in awe; as good as he has gotten in the culinary department under the long tutelage of all three of the women in his life (his mother, his grandmother, and Mrs. Wang), his mother’s knife skills simply could not be replicated.

“Tell me what?” he hears from the doorway of the kitchen and watches Mrs. Wang turn to her son with a mutinous expression. Yibo and his mother have almost the exact same personality. Which means that they butt heads a lot. Which also means that Mrs. Wang relies on him to pass messages to Yibo that she thinks Yibo will not take kindly to coming from her.

“They don’t want you to race.” He says neutrally, and now that the message is relayed, turns back to focus on his chicken.

There is a moment of silence and he knows without looking back that this is where Yibo and Mrs. Wang shoot eye-daggers at each other.

A full two minutes go by before he hears Yibo greet Mrs. Xiao. And then footsteps as Yibo walks into the kitchen.

“Don’t even think of coming near me if you don’t want raw chicken bits all over your person.” He warns without looking back as he whacks into one of the thigh bones.

This does not faze Yibo, although he does stand behind Xiao Zhan to peer over his shoulder at the chicken.

“What are you guys making?”

“Nothing you’re going to eat.” Mrs. Wang replies unceremoniously as she walks away to join Mrs. Xiao.

“Mom, I have told you a million times already. The kind of racing I do is completely safe. They don’t even allow those bikes on actual roads, only on the track. It’s a well-controlled arena with a million safety measures.” Yibo says with some level of exasperation.

This is a conversation that the Wang kitchen’s walls – as well as the Xiao kitchen’s walls – have heard many times over since Yibo had first started racing three years ago. There had been a lull about a year and a half ago when Mrs. Wang had thought Yibo wouldn’t qualify for ARRC and would drop out after scoping out the competition. Xiao Zhan could have told her that simply wouldn’t happen. If you tell Yibo he couldn’t do something, that only made him do it with 800x the force and doggedness. It’s something he admired and abhorred in Yibo in equal measure. It’s always exhausting – and sometimes even a little painful – to watch.

And just as he had predicted, Yibo hadn’t given up. He had continued. Had qualified. And now the ARRC is in three weeks and Mrs. Wang has gone into last-ditch-effort mode. Roping Xiao Zhan in to do her dirty work. He didn’t know on what planet she thought Yibo would listen to him if he didn’t listen to her.
Besides, resistance is futile with Yibo. It’s better to just leave him alone and let him do what he wanted.
“Don’t withhold food from him. That’s too much.” Mrs. Xiao says quietly. He sneaks a look at Mrs. Wang and sees the clench of her jaw. He looks back at Yibo and sees that he is watching his mother too. They share a brief look and Xiao Zhan shakes his head slightly and it’s all the preparation Yibo gets before his mother speaks again. He should have known Mrs. Wang would have something else up her sleeve.

Her tone is different now, more serious, as she says, “You can go do your racing. As long as Xiao Zhan is there with you to report back to us.”

“Done.” Yibo cuts in. Xiao Zhan shakes his head again, knowing that that was not it. There’s bound to be more. This is hardly a condition that’s new. Yibo’s parents were too nervous to go see his races. As were Xiao Zhan’s parents. So, Xiao Zhan had been tagged, “it” whether he wanted to go or not. The official reporter back to the family. He had to text them at regular intervals during the race to let them know how Yibo was doing. Although now that it’s the actual ARRC, it would be on TV. And he says as much. “Mrs. Wang, the ARRC will be on tv. You can see him without going to the track.”

“No!” she says firmly. “No one is watching that on tv here.”

Xiao Zhan sneaks a look at his own mother and sees her quick shake of head. Alright, he guessed a mother really did have final say in watching – whether on tv or not – her child indulge in dangerous hobbies. He turns to give Yibo a look and sees him shrug. “Sorry dude, you are destined to watch all my races no matter how bored you get.”

He sighs, mainly for show, and shakes his head. He didn’t mind them so much. Yibo is a natural on a bike and given how unathletic he is himself, he did enjoy being a spectator, especially of someone like Yibo who put his body to maximum use, whether through racing, or his other hobby that had become a part-time profession, dancing (full-time occupation = professional gamer). For someone with a one-room career that requires long stretches of solitude such as himself, being life-long friends with Yibo seems nothing short of a miracle. He had often wondered if he and Yibo would have become friends had they not grown up together and had essentially been a fixture in each other’s life since the beginning of time when their mothers – best friends themselves - had delivered them just ten months apart from each other. He used to try to lord it over Yibo every chance he got, especially when they were younger and technically one full grade apart, insisting on being called Zhan ge. Yibo had been born a recalcitrant SOB and had only ever said, “Zhan ge” with a heavy dose of mockery dripping off of every syllable. And so he had stopped asking him. Yibo still called him Zhan ge on occasion, those being when he was using his pretend charms to get Xiao Zhan to do something for him – which almost never worked – or when he cockblocked Xiao Zhan in clubs, deliberately wooing away any girl who showed interest in him by coming up with some bullshit like, “Oh, Zhan ge is too old for you. I, on the other hand, …” fill in the blanks. The reality was that every time that happened, he would laugh it off and pull back, because lord knew when Yibo turned his charms on, most girls didn’t stand a chance. And they quickly forgot about Xiao Zhan thereafter. It was such a long-formed habit now that he didn’t even question why he didn’t take offense. What if Yibo pulled that shit on some girl he actually liked? Well, then, he was sure he would fight for it. Wouldn’t let Yibo just move in on someone just like that.

It wasn’t that Xiao Zhan hadn’t dated before. He had. He had even had one serious relationship the first year of college that had somehow lasted almost a whole year. But it likely only made it that far because he had made sure that Yibo and his boyfriend never met. It had helped that Yibo had been finishing up his last year of high school then and for that whole year they had, for one of the few times in their life, not been in the same location pretty much all the time. That had helped to keep his boyfriend detached from his real life. It had been exciting in the beginning, hiding something from Yibo, sneaking around in a way that he didn’t even feel the need to do with his parents. But it had gotten old quick. His boyfriend had been a sweetheart, but given that Xiao Zhan didn’t live in the dorms and he did, he had balked at the limitations on their time. Xiao Zhan had never had any free weekends – he ended up hanging out with Yibo and a few of their other friends – and his boyfriend couldn’t really understand how a freshman in college was not invested in more time for… well, sex. He didn’t think he could explain it in any way that made sense. The sex was good, that was not it. It was… he got tired just thinking about it. Breaking up had been easier. On both of them.

To this day, Yibo didn’t know, even though he had joined the same college a year later and had stuffed his summers with enough classes that he had earned enough credits to graduate in three years, at the same time as Xiao Zhan. That was four years ago.

Their friend Ji Li knew, but Xiao Zhan had sworn him to secrecy to never tell Yibo. Ji Li was quite familiar with Yibo’s cockblocking, so he was in full support, saying something like, “Dude, I thank the good Lord that I’m full gay and he doesn’t swing that way and try to do it to me. I would have to cut him off for good if he did that shit to me!”

Xiao Zhan had shrugged. Guys didn’t even hit on him when he was out with Yibo. They just automatically assumed that he and Yibo were together. And given how good-looking Yibo was, no one would even attempt to try to hit on someone they thought was with him. It was only the girls who got waylaid by Yibo’s machinations. But this was all beside the point because, as far as he knew, Yibo wasn’t interested in cockblocking anyone other than him.

Xiao Zhan didn’t even know what Yibo did with all those numbers that he got from girls. Aside from hooking up, that is. Ji Li had told him, unsolicited, mind you, that he had it on good authority that Yibo is, “One Hung Motherfucker.”

“Okay, TMI.” He had tried to stop Ji Li from continuing, not that Ji Li had really cared to listen. “Like for real, thick and long…”

“Ji Li, seriously though, I don’t…”

That had been cut off as well, as Ji Li had added, “and can go all night.”

“Who the fuck have you been talking to?” he had asked then, curious.

“Cao Yuzhen’s cousin is one of the girls that Yibo hooked up with.”

“What?? When?”

“Irrelevant. Let’s just say that she had some very good times. And remembers Yibo quite fondly. Says the man is “committed” in bed.”

That had made him laugh. Although Ji Li had also added, “He is not committed in any other way, does not even pretend to want to be, but in bed, boy brings 150%.”

“Why, did she want to pursue something with him?” he had asked.

“Oh no. They both knew what they were getting into. She is in love with her brother’s best friend. Said best friend is completely against dating siblings of best friends. So, she thinks she is cursed to forever nurse an unrequited love. Yibo was just sexy times to briefly escape all the… unrequitedness.”

Xiao Zhan had tried to wrap his head around that whole thing. Had thought of it for months afterwards. He and Yibo didn’t talk about things like that, but Ji Li volunteered plenty, often without asking. How Ji Li found out all the things he did, not just about Yibo, but about everyone in general, Xiao Zhan had no idea.

Over the past few years though, Xiao Zhan had started to occasionally wish that he could be more like Yibo. While he was not sure about Yibo’s romantic life - Yibo had never had a girlfriend as far as he knew - he had gleaned that Yibo had a very active sex life. He seemed to be able to separate sex from romantic entanglements with an ease unlike any. Or maybe Yibo just didn’t need things like “romantic entanglements”. Xiao Zhan, on the other hand, craved emotional intimacy so much more than physical intimacy and had learned that one without the other really didn’t do anything for him. But sometimes, when he woke up in bed hard and aching from one of his dreams – increasingly all about a highly fictional, highly unrealistic character he is writing about – Xiao Zhan wished he could just treat sex as sex and not make it so complicated. Maybe that’s why he’s so hung up on Lan Wangji…

“Xiao Zhan, that chicken is already dead. You trying to kill it again?” He hears Yibo’s teasing voice behind him and focuses his eyes on the cutting board. Yup, the chicken is… he looks over at Mrs. Wang sheepishly, but she hardly seems to notice and he takes the opportunity to wash his hands and bring the cut-up pieces over to his mother to coat in marinade.

“I have one more condition.” He hears Mrs. Wang and looks up. There it is. The actual meat of the matter. Whatever it was going to be.

His gaze passes over to Yibo, who shrugs, and then over to his own mom, who is keeping her eye suspiciously focused on the squash that she is slicing into with the precision of a diamond-cutter.

“I have arranged a meeting for you. I want you to go.” Mrs. Wang says.

His eyes widen as he looks over at Yibo, who just looks confused as he asks, “What meeting? Why?”

Mrs. Wang busies herself as she answers, “With Mrs. Lee’s daughter.”

He doesn’t know if Yibo is legitimately ignorant or being deliberately obtuse as he asks again, “Why?”

“For a date. Why else?”

“For a date? Why? I don’t have any trouble finding dates. I don’t need help. Thank you though.”

Xiao Zhan coughs out loud to cover the laugh that escapes him. Mrs. Xiao shoots him a death-glare.

Mrs. Wang stops moving around and turns to Yibo. “Are you dating someone right now?”

Yibo’s one eyebrow shoots up as he asks, the syllable drawn out like a question, “Nooo?”

“Have you ever had a girlfriend?”

“Lili…” Mrs. Xiao calls, a gentle warning, and Mrs. Wang looks over and shushes her. “I’m going to have my say today, Zuzu. Whether this boy thinks he is too grown to listen to me, we’ll have to see.”

Xiao Zhan looks at Yibo in alarm and sees that his expression has iced over. Oh fuck. And sure enough, the next words out of Yibo’s mouth are, “How is that any of your business?”

Xiao Zhan can almost anticipate that exact moment the words come out and he drops to the floor in the most exaggerated coughing fit that he has ever faked in his life. It edges past comical and is bordering on bizarre – he can see his own mother rolling her eyes - but it effectively drowns out Yibo’s words and distracts Mrs. Wang long enough that she is looking over to him and asking, “You okay, A-Zhan?”

He nods - now there are literal tears running down his cheeks and his throat hurts like hell - and he pulls himself up off the floor and moves over to the sink. In the process, he pulls Yibo to him and mutters, “Shut the fuck up for once in your life. You want to forfeit before you even get to the race?”

“I will not be bullied into dating.” Yibo mutters back, loudly thudding on his back, with enough force that Xiao Zhan’s eyes tear up again.

“Asshole, stop hitting me for saving your ungrateful behind.”

“Then do not encourage her bullshit.” Yibo says back, teeth clenched, although now he is patting and not pounding.

Xiao Zhan looks at Yibo one more time, and it’s a relatively long tense moment, and that’s all the preparation Yibo gets before Xiao Zhan turns to Mrs. Wang and says, “Yes, he’ll go, Mrs. Wang.”

For a moment, there is silence. Mrs. Wang is looking at him, trying to read his expression. Her eyes go soft for a moment before her gaze swings to her son and then it hardens again. “Thank you.” She says.

Yibo doesn’t reply, but a moment later, when Mrs. Wang turns to face Mrs. Xiao, he feels Yibo pinch into the bit of flesh at his waist as he growls, “Fuck you, bastard.”

Yibo’s pinches always hurt like a bitch. This one is no exception. He tries not to whimper as he rubs the spot.

And then Yibo is gone. Out of the kitchen, his footsteps heavy on the floorboards and practically thundering on the stairs as he goes up to his room.

They hear the door slam shut and a moment later, all of them release the collective breath they’re holding, Mrs. Wang sagging into one of the chairs.

“You did good.” His mother reassures Mrs. Wang.

“You guys set me up for this ambush on him.” he remarks after a while, leaning back against the counter, taking his apron off.

“Sorry baby.” Mrs. Wang says, her voice all that is fatigue when she looks up at him. “But you know, you’re the only one he won’t refuse.”

That’s not true. If they only knew. But he doesn’t say anything else as he makes his way out of the kitchen and upstairs, preparing for the shitstorm that’s about to be unleashed on him. Wang Yibo in a snit is not something he ever has energy for. And he has a feeling that this snit is going to be worse than all other previous ones. Combined.

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Chapter Text

You’re seriously not going to talk to me?

He hits send and scrolls up to see all the other texts over the past week that Yibo has left on Read.  52 of them. 

For real?  This is day number 7.  Aren’t you bothered by all these texts? I’m starting to get annoyed by them myself.  I’ll leave you alone and stop texting if you just tell me how long to leave you alone for.  And for the fifty-third time, I’m sorry.

A minute later, he sees the Read sign.  But nothing.  No answer.  Just like the rest of them.

He throws the phone on the bed and turns back to his laptop.  He has written only three pages for the whole of last week since the day Yibo stopped talking to him. 

That day he had gone up to Yibo’s room and had stood outside, asking to be let in for almost 30 minutes and Yibo hadn’t budged. There had been no screaming, no yelling, no ‘get lost’, no nothing. Just silence.  Finally, he had come back downstairs.  He had finished cooking with the mothers and had stayed for dinner thinking that Yibo would be forced to come down then, but he hadn’t.  Mrs. Wang had told him to give Yibo some time, that he would get over it.  “I mean, how long can he really go without talking to you?”  had been her take.

Well, evidently, seven days and counting. 

They have never, in their entire life, gone a full week without talking to each other.

He gets out of his chair and walks over to his tiny kitchen to make another pot of coffee.  He’s glad that he lives on his own, that he had made the decision to move out of his parents’ house and into this tiny apartment even though he still goes home pretty much every weekend.  He needs space to move around throughout the day as he writes, with no interruptions.  Yibo doesn’t really count, because Yibo knows to be quiet in a way that doesn’t bother him.  At least that’s what he had assumed thus far.  But now that he has not seen Yibo for a whole week, and given the writing rut that he has fallen into over the same week, he was starting to wonder if Yibo’s presence is somehow necessary for writing. 

That couldn’t really be true.  He’s sure that he has written a lot without Yibo being around.  Maybe… It’s not like Yibo is his muse.  There’s really nothing about Yibo that would serve as a muse for writing fantasy fiction.  Yibo is the antithesis of all his characters.  Especially Lan Wangji.  Yibo is loud and brash – well, with him – curses like a sailor, fucks with abandon, has no real soft emotions to speak of, and generally lives life to the fullest, moment to moment.  Everything that’s the direct opposite of Lan Wangji. 

That’s right.  Lan Wangji is his muse.  No one else.  He is going to channel all his energy into that and leave Yibo alone for good until Yibo decides that he is well and ready to forgive.

It takes some time, but the power of Lan Wangji does eventually prevail and drag him in and with no Yibo to ground him, he falls into a bottomless pool of the world in his head, minutes and hours and the sun and the moon blending into each other until time as a dimension disappears other than writing and posting and writing and posting.  He thinks he may have completed the story – although it’s hard to tell because he cannot truly see off Lan Wangji as yet - when he falls into a long dreamless sleep that seems to span years in his head, filled with all hues of blue and red merging and fading into black. 

The ring of the buzzer comes to him from afar at first.  He thinks that it rings for a long time before it pulls him back out of the darkness.

When he sits up, his room is pitch dark and given that he had black-out curtains, he can’t make sense of whether it’s day or night. 

The buzzer continues and he manages to drag himself out of bed and to the door.  Everything is dark in his apartment, which he takes to mean that it must be night.

Who the hell is trying to get into his place at this time of night?

He remembers to peer through the peephole and sees the side profile, the sweep of the hair falling over the forehead in casual disarray that always looked like some expensive stylist had artfully created a teenage fantasy with just hair.

He opens the door, wondering whether this means he is finally forgiven.

“Your mom wanted me to bring you some food.”  Yibo says, lifting the enormous package in his hand, although he doesn’t lift his head.

So, not forgiven.  Just an errand.

He finds that he has barely enough energy to care right now.  He wonders how long it’s been since he has eaten.

“Thanks.”  He says, taking the package. 

When Yibo doesn’t seem intent on looking at him, much less coming inside, he pulls back in and shuts the door.

For some reason, he feels angry as he walks into the kitchen.  He doesn’t want to consult the anger too deeply, because he knows what he should be feeling is guilty.  For doing something to Yibo that actually made him stop talking to him for… lord knows how long now.  He wonders again what day it is. 

But really, he doesn’t feel guilty.  Just angry.  He puts down the package on the kitchen counter and opens it and sees his mom’s neat handwriting on a note on top.

Your phone’s out of charge, honey.  You must be writing.  I’m sending some food with Yibo.  Are you coming home this weekend?  Call me. Love, mom.

His eyes tear up suddenly and he grabs the bag right below the note that has the sweet buns that he likes.  Those are not made by his mom, but from the pastry store right next to his parents’ house.  He bites into one and leans on the counter, pressing the heel of his other palm into his eye socket, angrier now that he doesn’t know why he’s crying.

It takes almost a minute, but finally the tears do recede and by then, he is done with the bun.  He leaves the rest of the food on the counter before walking into his bathroom.  When he flicks the light on, he almost doesn’t recognize himself.  His chin is covered in the solid shading of something way beyond several five 0’clock shadows and his hair is a bird’s nest.

He shaves and then strips out of his clothes to climb into the shower, wondering how long it’s been since he’s had one.

He runs the water hot and stands under it for a long time and chalks it up to the steam in his tiny shower that his eyes turn red and his cheeks warm.  When he finally gets out of the shower, he wipes a circle into the fogged-up mirror and even in its hazy reflection, he can see how puffed up and pink his eyes are.  He rubs at it one last time as if somehow that’ll make it all better.

He wraps his towel around his waist and walks out of the bathroom and is distracted enough in his head that it takes him a moment to notice the form sprawled out on the recliner.

And when he does, he stands there stock still, blinking his eyes to see if he has started hallucinating from hunger and some shitty emotions that he wants really no part of.

Yibo’s head is tilted up and his eyes are closed as if he’s sleeping, although when he speaks, what he says is, “You going to stand there half-naked the whole day?”

The words barely register as he feels a fresh wave of anger, so strong that he can almost feel it sweep through his belly, tightening every muscle as it passes through. 

He doesn’t speak as he turns towards his room.  Yibo knows that he’ll shut the bedroom door and he’s there in a heartbeat, forcing the door open.

He tries to push it closed from his end with all his might, although he is forced to let go when his towel almost slips off and he has to grab it up.

Yibo takes advantage of the moment and gets in, moving to his bed and falling backwards onto it.

He pauses a moment to take in Yibo’s form and briefly thinks of pulling him off by the legs, but then his stomach growls in hunger and he flattens his palm against it, moving to his closet to find a pair of jeans and a clean shirt. 

He doesn’t look back at Yibo until he’s dressed, only pulling off the towel once his jeans are fully on.  It strikes him then that as much time as they spend together, this is the kind of stuff that he had somehow stopped doing a long while ago.  Ever since he had discovered that he was attracted to all genders. 

Yibo had no problem with gay people, for sure, but Yibo was also a prototypical alpha male and straight to an almost cliched degree that it had started to feel weird to do this kind of stuff in front of him.  That’s not to say that he had gone out of his way to hide his sexual preferences from Yibo – aside from hiding his boyfriend, that is, but he would have done that even if it had been a girlfriend – it’s just that Yibo had simply assumed that he preferred girls and he had never really corrected that assumption.  He wondered occasionally if Yibo even assumed that.  Yibo knew he wrote stories about both gay and straight couples and sometimes genderless fantasy beings too – not that that would necessarily reflect his actual preferences – but he did wonder if Yibo read anything into that.  If he did, it’s not something they had ever discussed. 

Either way, why is he even thinking about this kind of shit.  He’s still angry.  And really hungry. 

The hunger wins out and he walks out of the room, leaving Yibo on his bed.

He opens up everything his mother had packed and can practically feel the saliva pooling in his mouth.  It’s all his favorites, two of them dishes only his grandma makes.  They really were the best.  He resists the urge to eat straight out of the dish and makes a plate for himself.  Rolling his eyes, he makes one for Yibo too, although he leaves it on the kitchen counter as he takes his own plate into the living room, turning on the tv. 

The date is three days later than the last time he checked.  He wonders now why his mom didn’t come herself instead of sending Yibo.  She would have been worried.  He finds his phone and puts it to charge before plopping himself on the couch to flip through the channels. 

Yibo had come out of the bedroom while he had been putting his phone to charge and now brings his plate from the kitchen and makes his way over to his recliner.  He grabs the remote out of Xiao Zhan’s hand and for a moment, he thinks about fighting for it.  Then he lets go and sits back with his plate.  He wouldn’t give Yibo the satisfaction.  Yibo is spoiling for a fight, he knows.  It’s going to come any which way.  But he’ll be damned if it’s going to be about some stupid remote control.

Yibo deliberately settles on some channel with a sport that Xiao Zhan does not follow – well, he doesn’t really follow any sports – and cranks up the volume until Xiao Zhan sighs loudly and closes his eyes.

“Did you come here to drive me crazy?”  he asks finally, looking in Yibo’s direction.

Yibo doesn’t answer, and it pisses him off enough that he gets up off the couch to go finish eating in the kitchen. 

Yibo reaches over to tug at his arm and Xiao Zhan’s glad that he manages to hold onto the plate without tipping it over as he falls back on the couch.

He really thinks he is angry enough to start throwing punches when Yibo says, “I came here because you weren’t answering any of your family’s phone calls this morning and they called me to ask when I had seen you last.” 

He absorbs that for a moment and then asks, an eyebrow crooked up, “That still doesn’t explain why you came.”

“To personally strangle you to death.”  Yibo answers, his gaze back on the tv, the volume now going up again.

He puts his plate down on the table.  Yibo’s eyes whip up and he manages to put his plate down in the nick of time before Xiao Zhan launches at him with a fist pulled back.  Yibo blocks the first punch – barely – and then there’s a loud “YA!” before Yibo goes on the attack and they both tumble to the floor.  Yibo’s punches are no joke and Xiao Zhan manages to block two of them before the third one lands just under his ribs.  His breath whooshes out as he whimpers in pain.  When he finally catches his breath, he can see Yibo’s startled face.  “Ya!” he yells and grabs the back of Yibo’s hair, pulling until Yibo’s neck is almost fully bent backwards. 

“Fuck, not the hair!” Yibo shouts as he takes Xiao Zhan’s other hand and smacks it down on the floor, pinning it down.  “Let go! let go!” 

He is so mad and his wrist cannot move under Yibo’s hold that he uses the only other thing that he has as a weapon.  His teeth.  And the only place he has easy access to is Yibo’s neck.  He bites into the side of it so hard that he thinks he may have drawn blood.  And Yibo finally lets go of his hand.

For a moment, it’s just their loud breathing that fills the air and then Yibo moves off of him. 

Things are weird for a moment as they stare at each other and then his eyes fall to Yibo’s neck.  “Fuck, you’re bleeding.”  He says, scrambling up, rushing to his storage closet to get the first-aid kit.

When he returns, Yibo is at the kitchen sink, splashing water on the wound.  He can hear Yibo’s hiss at the sting and then he is patting the area dry with a paper-towel.  He tries to busy himself with the first-aid kit, putting it on the kitchen counter and getting ointment and a band-aid out, when he senses Yibo coming to stand by his side.

He avoids eye contact as he dabs the ointment on Yibo's neck.  “Sorry,” he finally murmurs. 

“What? For being a vampire?”  Yibo asks and when he looks at Yibo, that smirk is back.

“No, for signing you up for a date that you have no interest in.  It was not my place to agree.”  he says, quietly.

The smirk disappears.  “It wasn’t.”  Yibo answers.

“I know.  I’m sorry.”  He says again, his eyes now focusing on applying the band-aid.  He wonders if actual bite marks on the neck look any different from hickeys.  Like, shouldn’t your skin know the intention of the bite and show the damage differently so that there’s no confusion?

He is so focused on the bite that it takes him by surprise when Yibo lifts his shirt.

“What?” he sputters, looking down, and can see the start of a bruise already on his torso.

“Fuck.” Yibo says, and after a moment, looks up to ask, “Why didn’t you block me?”

“I blocked the first two.”  He answers, pulling his shirt back down.

“You should know how to block all of them.” 

“Why, are you planning on making this a regular event?” 

“That depends on whether you plan on agreeing to dates on my behalf.”

He closes his eyes and sighs. “You’ll still go, right?”

“No.”  Yibo answers and his eyes snap open.

“No?  But I promised your mom.”

“Why?”

“She thought you’ll listen to me.”

Yibo scoffs. 

“I know, I tried to tell her you won’t.”

“But you still promised.”

He sighs again.  “Okay, that was my bad.  I won’t do it again.  Just go this time.”

“I don’t want to.”

“Please, Yibo.  What’s one date?  If you won’t, your mom is definitely going to say that you can’t race in the competition.  But you’ll do it anyways.  And then it’s going to be mayhem and world war III.  Just go on one date and all the problems will be solved.”

“But I have no interest in Mrs. Lee’s daughter.”

“How do you know?  You’ve not even met her.”

“I just know.”

“You go on tons of dates.  How is this any different?”  he asks, trying to not sound exasperated.

“I go on dates with people who want the same thing that I do.  I do not go on dates with any intention to mislead.”

Well, this is news.

It takes him a moment to absorb that properly and then ask, “All those girls know that you only want to sleep with them?”

“Yes.”  Yibo says without hesitation.

“That’s bullshit.”  He says, pulling back a little.

“Why?” 

“What do you do? Tell them, Hey ma’am, you interested in hoppin’ in the sack for a bit of good time? and they all just nod and say, Yes, of course, Mr. Gorgeous.  We’re only happy to oblige.

There’s sarcasm and then there’s petty and he’s definitely toeing into the latter, he knows.

Yibo’s expression is unreadable for a moment and then he asks, “How many people do you think I sleep with?  You think every weekend I go out and pick someone up and think of how to get into their pants?”

“Don’t you?”  he asks.

“I spend most of my free time with you, asshole.  And the rest of the time, I live at home.  When and where am I sleeping with this harem you think I’m sleeping with?”

He pauses at this proclamation.    And before he can fully formulate an answer, Yibo asks, “And who’ve you been talking to to know with such certainty who I’m sleeping with.”

His eyes dart to the side as he thinks of how to answer.  Yibo tilts his head. “It’s that idiot, Ji Li, isn’t it?” 

“No.” he answers immediately, turning to the first-aid box now to close it.

“Bullshit.  You are not particularly interested in my sex life and would hardly seek out that information on your own.  Which means some gossip must be telling you shit without you asking for it.  And the only gossip in both of our lives is Ji Li.”

The man did have solid deductive reasoning, it could not be denied.

“Who said I’m not interested in your sex life?”  he asks now, not wanting to throw Ji Li under the bus just like that.

“You are?”

“Uh huh.”  He nods, walking away with the first-aid box.  Yibo follows him with, “Such bullshit.”

“You’re my closest friend.  Why wouldn’t I be interested in your sex life?”

“Because you’re just not a very sexual person.” 

That surprises him so much that he stops abruptly and Yibo crashes into his back.

“How do you know?” he asks. 

“Dude, you write fantasy fiction with hardly any sex in it.  You’ve even managed to discover sexless species to write about so that you don’t have to deal with sex at all.”

What??

“How do you know?”  he asks now, turning around. 

Yibo blinks, but doesn’t answer.

“What, do you really think I’m some sort of virgin?” he asks.

“Well…” Yibo starts and peters off.

“Fuck you, asshole.  For your information, I sleep with both men and women.  Fat load you know about my sex life.”

Yup, and that is how he comes out to his best friend.  Like that.  Exactly.  Like.  That.

                                                                 xxxxxxxxxxx

Chapter Text

Yibo doesn’t say anything, but stares. For a few moments, he tolerates the staring because it’s clear that this came out of the left field for Yibo, although he’s still surprised at how stunned Yibo looks. He really didn’t know. And now Xiao Zhan wonders at the part of him that must have really thought that Yibo had known, at least a little bit, but to see that he hadn’t, that he had read the situation all wrong, is…

He turns back around and walks to the closet to put the first-aid box back. He takes longer than necessary for the task, moving things around that had no need to be moved around and even after that’s done, standing there, the closet door offering him temporary protection from what he assumes to be Yibo glaring.

Eventually, he closes the door and sees that Yibo is no longer there. For a moment, there is a painful thud in his chest and he rushes to the end of the hallway to see if Yibo has left. When he opens the door and looks into the outside hallway, there’s no one there. He holds his breath as he walks back in and then hears the microwave. When he walks into the kitchen, Yibo pulls out a plate from the microwave and holds it out in his direction. “I reheated it.”

He lifts an eyebrow as he goes to take it from Yibo, and says, completely unnecessarily but from that part of him that must have dreaded ever having this conversation, “I thought my gayness scared you off and you ran away.”

Yibo’s neutral expression changes into one of anger and he takes the plate back. “That’s a stupid joke.”

His mouth feels dry and he tries not to swallow as he lowers his gaze to the plate once more and reaches for it.

Yibo pulls it out of his reach again and Xiao Zhan sighs and lifts his eyes tiredly. “You think this is easy, asshole? It’s definitely not a conversation I want to have with you after fighting with you for like 10 days. But if you’re offended and want another fight and then another period of silent treatment, go ahead. How many more days are we talking? 10? 15? A whole month?”

“Does Ji Li know?” Yibo asks, putting the plate down on the countertop.

Oh, Yibo is pissed. And Xiao Zhan can see where this line of questioning is heading.

So, he closes his eyes and leans back against the counter. “Go ahead. Stop talking to me. That’s easier.”

“You think the last 10 days were easy? Fuck you!” Yibo grits his teeth as if he’s trying not to yell.

“Fuck, I said I’m sorry, ok? I’m a terrible friend.”

“Does Ji Li know?” Yibo asks again.

“Yes.”

“You told him, but you didn’t tell me!”

“I didn’t tell him, Yibo. He figured it out on his own.” He says now, opening his eyes.

“How? I know you better than anyone on this Earth!” Yibo states it as a fact and not merely his opinion.

“Maybe you don’t.” he counters. Softly.

There’s shock and then a sort of nakedness that washes over Yibo’s face, all rapidly, before he too closes his eyes.

It makes him move closer to Yibo, although to do what, he is not sure. Before he does anything though, Yibo’s eyes snap open and he grabs him by the arm and turns him against the wall at the other end. “Did you think I would come on to you if I knew? Is that why you didn’t tell me?”

It’s such a strange question that he stares at Yibo uncomprehendingly for a moment, but then gets distracted by how red the tips of Yibo’s ears have turned and reaches over to tug at one like he always did.

Yibo flinches, startling him, and he pulls his hand back.

“No, of course not. Why would I think you would come on to me? You’re about the straightest guy I know.” he answers finally, keeping his tone soft again knowing how rattled Yibo is to have his ears turn that color.

Yibo seems taken aback by his answer, and now rubs at the end of the ear that he had touched as if willing the redness to dissipate.

“You really had no clue?” he asks again, his voice low.

There is a lost look on Yibo’s face for a moment as he shakes his head. “I don’t think of you sexually at all.”

That annoys him enough that he rolls his eyes. “Just because I’m not fucking everything that moves, doesn’t mean…”

“No.” Yibo interrupts. “I…” he starts, and then stops as if he doesn’t know what comes after.

“What, you think of me as some pre-pubescent nerd, writing sexless fantasies with no knowledge or experience of anything?”

“No!” Yibo sounds frustrated now.

“Then?”

“You’re like this… romantic… waiting for true love, happily ever after, that kinda thing…” Yibo gestures with his hand as if that would help fill in for the rest of the words.

For a moment, he just breathes. He bites his tongue as something seizes his throat and he thinks that it will get his eyes too.

“Why would you think that?” he asks finally.

“You’re writing about this guy who waits sixteen years for a dead man to come back alive. With no confession, no promises, no anything… just whatever he nurtured by himself in his heart…” Yibo says as if stating something self-evident.

“And in the story before that, the man falls in love with the same woman again and again, even though she doesn’t remember him and would likely hate him if she knew that he caused her death.”

“It’s fantasy fiction, Yibo.” He reminds him gently, although, fuck, how many of his stories has Yibo read exactly?

“Yea, but it’s you. It’s your fantasy.”

“Well, it’s what I think my readers want to read.”

“True. But it’s what you like to read too.”

He inhales deeply. This is a lot to take in. Whatever they think they know about each other. Some of it not exactly true. And some of it maybe truer than he gave it credit.

“So, for that reason, you think I’m a romantic who is saving himself for the right girl to come along.”

“Or guy.”

“Well, you know that now. But you didn’t before.”

Yibo closes his eyes, but acknowledges it with a tiny nod.

“And how was I supposed to find this “right girl” with you cockblocking me all the time?”

Yibo’s eyes open and his expression is all that is disbelief as he says, “You’re too pretty to not be hit on by all and sundry and too nice to say no thanks. I just do you a favor.”

“What the fuck?” he asks, his mouth falling open. “Is that how you’ve been explaining that away all these years?”

“Hey hey, there was that girl last year that I did not interfere with. And there was another one two years ago. And another one maybe a year before that. All lovely lasses I thought would be perfect for you. It’s not my fault that you didn’t even try to get their number.”

He sort of remembers the last one, but has no particular recollection of the others, which likely means the attraction had not been strong enough to make an impression.

“Aah, I see, so you’ve been curating potential girlfriends for me.”

He says it sarcastically, but Yibo nods as if that’s exactly what he has been doing, as if that is only to be expected.

“Yibo, I don’t need you to pick out my girlfriend.”

“Or boyfriend.” Yibo adds now.

“Or boyfriend.” He nods.

“Yea, because apparently, you’ve been hopping beds behind my back, unlike any of your heroes. Even horny Lan Wangji held out.”

“Oy, I’m not Lan Wangji.”

“No. You just want a Lan Wangji.”

“What the fuck!” he says, and a moment later, pushes Yibo back. “I’m hungry. And this is the most asinine conversation that I’ve ever had in my life.”

He opens the microwave door and moves back and Yibo is right behind him, crowding the small space between the two countertops. He elbows Yibo out of the way to put the plate back inside the microwave, but Yibo captures both his elbows and asks, “You’ve never been attracted to me?”

He can feel his nostrils flare again and he shuts the microwave door harder than he needs to before turning around to face Yibo’s smirk. He pushes at his chest as he says, “Now I know why I didn’t tell your narcissistic ass. Contrary to what you sincerely believe, not everyone in the world is attracted to you.”

“Is that a yes or a no?” Yibo asks, smirking wider now.

“You know what? You can go back home. I’m all good now. Thanks for the food. I’ll finish both our plates.”

He pushes Yibo some more, out of the kitchen, but Yibo just grabs his hand and pulls him closer. “Why aren’t you answering?”

“Are you for real right now?” He asks, tugging on his elbow when Yibo won’t let go. “No, I am not attracted to you. If I was, I wouldn’t be friends with you. Despite what you think about my characters and stories, I’m not into angst and pining and I’m definitely not a self-defeatist masochist who would seriously entertain any romantic entanglement with someone who has such enormous issues with both fidelity and commitment. So there. Does that ease your worries?”

Yibo’s smirk disappears and there is something like hurt in his eyes for a moment, but then he laughs and lets go of his elbow. “Fair enough.”

He knows that he went overboard, but the words had tumbled out of his mouth before he could stop them. Besides, they couldn’t really continue in the same way as before if Yibo had any notion that he was secretly in love with him. If he ever felt anything like that for Yibo, he knows he would cut the relationship off. In that, he had spoken the truth before. Angst and pining were good for reading, not for living. And in this reality, he has no intention of being the stupid idiot who falls in love with his best friend. Certainly, if said best friend is someone like Wang Yibo.

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Chapter Text

Yibo had walked out of the kitchen while Xiao Zhan went back to reheating their plates and he wonders now if Yibo will leave. He wouldn’t really blame Yibo, he knew he had been harsh. 

He puts the second plate into the microwave, sets the time, presses start, and stands there, slouching a bit to put his elbow on the counter.  And moans a little when the bruise under his ribs sends out flashing lights. He lifts his shirt up to look and, yea, he should have thought to slap some ice on it.  Way back before he decided to have life-changing conversations with the dude who had beaten him black and blue.  Okay, maybe that was an exaggeration.  It was going to turn a little green and purple, and then fade into oblivion.  He rubs at the spot a bit and then opens the freezer to grab a bag of peas when Yibo walks in with a towel and takes the bag from him, wrapping it in the towel. 

“I thought you left.”  He says, as Yibo holds the towel-wrapped peas against his bruise. 

“Why, because you have such a high opinion of me?”  Yibo asks, letting him take over holding the towel in place.

He sighs as Yibo goes to grab the plate that’s already heated.

Too many weird conversations were happening on the same day.  Why can’t they parse this out over a few months?  Maybe years?

He opens his mouth to offer his rebuttal and Yibo sticks a spoonful of noodles in and he closes his mouth around some garbled nonsense.

What was it with the Wang family and their tendency to shut him up by shoving food into his mouth??

Yibo pulls out the other plate from the microwave and takes both the plates to the living room and he has no choice but to follow.

He takes his place on the couch and grabs the remote control before Yibo can get it and as he flips through the channels, Yibo gestures for him to open his mouth for another spoonful.

He chews and keeps flipping the channel while Yibo gets up to go back to the kitchen.  “I’m grabbing a beer, you want some?”  he hears him yell out. 

Only Yibo’s brand of beer was in stock in the kitchen.  He had forgotten to refill the ones he liked and either way, he has too little food in his belly to attempt alcohol right now.

By the time Yibo comes back and sits down, he has settled on some comedy show that Yibo likes – he frankly thought the humor was a bit lowbrow, which Yibo tended to counter with, “I like lowbrow humor with my beer, ok?  I’m very clichéd that way!” – and so, he leaves it on before grabbing his plate and balancing it on top of his belly to start eating.

They eat in silence for a while, although Yibo doesn’t laugh at any of the jokes like he usually does.  It makes him lose his appetite and he stops eating halfway through and moves the plate back to the coffee table.

“You’re done?”  Yibo asks, looking.

He nods.  “It was a lot of food.”

“Hardly.  Finish the whole thing, or I’m going to go back to feeding you.”

He sighs and puts his head back, feeling his glasses pop off a little with the movement.  “I can’t really eat when you’re mad.”  He says finally.

“I’m not mad.”  Yibo says quietly, putting his own plate down.

“Bullshit.”

“I’m not.  Maybe a little taken aback that you have such a poor opinion of my character, but I’m not mad.”

“I don’t have a poor opinion of your character!”  He says, turning in Yibo’s direction, twisting his torso in the process, and yelping and turning back around.

Yibo reaches over to hold the towel in place and his face is closer than it needs to be when he says, “You said I have Enormous Issues With Fidelity And Commitment.  That sounds like a poor opinion.”  His eyes widen at the end to exaggerate the emphasis.

“No.  It’s not.  That’s only an issue for people who are in romantic relationships with you.  That has no bearing on your ability to be a friend.  You are a great friend.  The best kind.”

Yibo’s one eyebrow quirks up.  “Fidelity and Commitment have nothing to do with friendship?  Really?”  he asks.

Xiao Zhan closes his eyes and puts his head back against the sofa.  When he doesn’t say anything for a whole minute, Yibo presses his hand over the towel a bit as if nudging him for an answer. 

“You’re right. I’m sorry.  As a friend, there is no one more loyal or committed than you.”  He finally says, his voice soft with regret.

“Thank you.”  Yibo murmurs.  And a beat later, “Now will you eat?  I know you must have not eaten for days.”

He opens his eyes and sees that Yibo is still leaning close, his face softer than comfortable.

“Yibo, I’m pan.  You’re not.  When you tease me by asking if I’ve ever been attracted to you, I’m the only one put on the spot.  By asking that question, you’re alluding to the way in which I can be vulnerable where you can’t.”

Yibo doesn’t say anything, but he can see the chagrined gaze.  Yibo lets him see it, doesn’t speak or turn away.

It makes him think of Yibo as younger than he has ever seemed before and he reaches over to push a lock of Yibo’s hair back that had fallen over his forehead as he says, “Don’t do that again, mm?”

He thinks that will be the end of it and starts to pull his hand back when Yibo holds onto his wrist.  “But what if I start to like you?”

He narrows his eyes as he tugs at his wrist.  Yibo lets go.  He would like to think Yibo is joking but he seems serious.  And genuinely curious.

“Okay, I’m going to assume you’re asking me seriously and I’m going to answer seriously too.  Have you ever been attracted to a man before?” 

Yibo shakes his head.

He smiles.  “There you go.  Case closed.”

“How?”  Yibo asks.

He almost whines in frustration.  “Yibo. You’re not gay.  I think we can be assured that you’re safe from developing any sort of attraction to me.”

“Why?” 

“Why what?”  he asks.

“Why do I have to be gay to like you?”  

He stares at Yibo for a moment as if seeing him for the first time.  “Are you trolling me?”

“No, make me understand why I have to like other men to like you?”

He thinks his brain has short-circuited.  Yibo’s certainly has.  “What’s in that beer?  What sort of questions are these?”

“Clearly ones that make you uncomfortable!”  Yibo says, with some feeling now, starting to feel annoyed at how Xiao Zhan is responding to his questions.

“Yes, Yes! It’s making me uncomfortable that we are casually discussing a hypothetical situation in which the presently straight Yibo may or may not magically turn gay in the future and develop an attraction to another dude and what then?  What then? I don’t know.  How would I know?  If you find that you like guys too, date them.”

“I’m not going to like other guys.”  Yibo answers, gritting his teeth as if struggling for patience.

“Yibo, I have no idea what we are even talking about.”

“Can I kiss you?”  Yibo asks suddenly.

“What? No!”

“Why not?”

“Oh my freaking… I’m going to lose my mind.”

“It seems like you’re afraid.”

“No! I’m flabbergasted that you would risk our friendship like that!”

Yibo is quiet for some time, but then says, “Okay” and sits back in his chair.

“Okay?”

“Okay, fine.”

“Okay fine what?”

“Okay fine, we won’t talk about this anymore.”

There is another silence for several moments but then Xiao Zhan turns to Yibo and throws his hands up, “Well, now that things have become really awkward!”

“Why does it have to be awkward?”  Yibo asks with a mirthless laugh, turning his way.

“You don’t feel awkward?”  he asks.

“No, I feel confused.  Not awkward.  Why can’t we just talk about shit that we feel instead of hiding it?”

He has no words.  No thoughts either.  Because… what do you say to that?

He doesn’t answer and a moment later, Yibo speaks again.  “Yes, you’re right, I have never looked at our relationship from this particular angle before, but I’ve also never felt close to anyone like I feel with you.  Sex is… you know, sex.  What does that have anything to do with anything?  I can’t really think of anyone else who I want to see every day other than you.  I can’t think of anyone else whom I would rather be bored with other than you.  I can’t think of anyone else who would put me through the hell that you put me through the last ten days just because we didn’t talk…”

He feels flushed under his collar and his chest feels like… fuck.   Wang Yibo.  Master seducer.  So effortless at this kind of shit.  And he cannot believe it’s now happening to him.

“Yibo.”  He calls his name to get him to stop.  Before Yibo says anything else and fucks shit up even more. 

Yibo stops and looks at him.

Xiao Zhan takes a quiet breath before he speaks, trying to say this clearly and concisely.  “That’s friendship.  Nothing else.  I feel the same way about you.  We both feel the same.  There’s no need to make it weird by adding something to it or taking something away.  It’s perfect the way it is.”

Yibo sighs. 

He is not going to question that sigh.  He knows when to leave well enough alone.

They watch the rest of the show in silence, each lost in thought.  By the time the show is over and he looks over, Yibo is asleep on the recliner.  He makes Yibo get up and go to the bedroom to sleep.  And for the first time in all the times that Yibo has slept over, Xiao Zhan doesn’t climb into bed with Yibo, but comes back out to the living room to sleep on the couch.

Because, awkward or not, weird or not, shit has changed.

And he hates it.

                                                                     xxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Chapter Text

The next morning, he wakes up to Yibo nudging him.

He is groggy and his neck has a crick and he thinks his back is going to suffer for the rest of the day as he opens his eyes, although all those thoughts disappear when he sees how hurt Yibo looks.

“You want me to stop sleeping over?”  Yibo asks.

“Why?”

“Because evidently, if I do, this is what you’ll be doing from now on.  What, you’re afraid that I’m going to jump you or something?”

“No, of course not.” He says, trying to sit up, his neck protesting.  He holds it carefully and tries not to twist it as he moves his whole body to face Yibo, but then his ribs bitch about it and he presses a palm flat against it.

“Fuck, what did you do to your neck?”  Yibo asks as he moves him down the sofa and scoots in behind him, pulling his hand off to rub the kink out of that area.

He holds still as Yibo rubs, trying not to breathe.

“I’ve done this a million times before, grandpa.  Don’t tell me I can’t do this anymore because of the conversation that we had yesterday.”  Yibo remarks, pushing down a bit hard on the area that he is rubbing on, although it only makes the massage better, not worse.

“Do you have no filter between your brain and your mouth?  Ever?” he asks, at a loss for words.  It’s too damn early without coffee to have yesterday, part 2.

“Why do I need a filter between my brain and mouth with you?  Unlike you, I don’t think to hide gargantuan secrets from my best friend.  It seems a bit counterintuitive to the entire concept.”

“For the eightieth time, I didn’t hide anything from you on purpose.  It just didn’t seem like a big enough deal to have a whole discussion about it with you.”

Yibo’s hand pauses on his neck.  “Wait, you didn’t think it’s a big deal that you like to sleep with both men and women?  You didn’t think that was an important enough part of you that I needed to know about?”

He doesn’t answer, but bends his head a bit.  Yibo resumes his massage.  Yibo’s hands are strong and firm and XL, they certainly know how to work out kinks, and it hurt too much to resist such magic freely offered.

“We’ve had two-hour discussions about Arabica vs. Columbian, dude!  Hell, we spent an entire day arguing about whether bubble tea tapioca pearls are actually a gelatinous plastic and whether we – as a continent overindulging in the substance – are likely to take the most amount of time to decompose!”

Okay, yes, the man had a point, they did get into it about the most bullshit topics on the planet, egging each other on for a truly atrocious amount of time with the most preposterous theories.  It’s fun.

Yibo’s thumb presses into a knot right below his skull and he has to bite down on his lips so he won’t moan out loud from the release from whatever deathly pressure had accumulated there from the apprehension of the past ten days.

Even though he is quiet, Yibo’s thumb pauses and presses in a little more and now he can’t help but let out a tiny squeal. 

“You’re wound up so tight.” Yibo says.

“No shit, Sherlock.”  He mutters, although he can almost feel it when Yibo’s mouth twists into a smirk at his back.

“Aww… did not talking to me for all that time do this to you?”  Yibo asks, his thumb rubbing in circles now and it is… so nice. 

“Does that make you feel better?”  Xiao Zhan asks, drooping his head even more so that Yibo has better access.

“Were you crying in the shower yesterday?”  Yibo asks suddenly, his voice low and near his ear, and it startles him so much that he straightens abruptly, smashing his head back into Yibo.

“Oww. Fuck, Xiao Zhan!” Yibo yelps and he turns around with a grin to rub Yibo’s forehead.

“Serves you right.”  He says as Yibo pushes off his hand at first, irritated.

He persists and finally Yibo removes his own hand and allows Xiao Zhan to rub at the spot.

“You were?”  Yibo asks after a moment, his voice now quiet.

“Of course not.”  He answers.

“Your eyes were all red and puffy when you came out of the bathroom.”

“Yea, well, that happens when you’re sleep deprived.” 

“You’re so full of bullshit.  Why is it so hard to admit that you were crying?”

His hand pauses in its rubbing for a moment before he pulls back and turns around.  Yibo takes it as cue to return to his neck massage.

“If I was crying, it had nothing to do with you.”  He remarks as he gives over once more to Yibo’s solid hands.

“I didn’t say it did.”

“Then?”

“Okay, yea, maybe.  I thought you were upset when you thought I left.”

That makes him go quiet and Yibo nudges him again after a moment.

“Have you always been so needy for my attention, but I’ve just never noticed?”  he asks then.

He thinks that’ll make Yibo mad, but he hears a laugh instead as Yibo says, “You know, for a writer, you’re curiously unobservant.” 

He looks back at Yibo in profile, lifting an eyebrow, and Yibo answers, “Yea, obviously, I need your attention all the time.  How is this a mystery?  Don’t you need mine too?” 

He thinks for a moment and answers, “Not all the time.”

“Bullshit.”

“You really think I need your attention all the time?”

“Yes.”  Yibo says without hesitation.   “Frankly, I’m surprised you finished that novel without me around.  Although you can tell from reading it that I wasn’t.”

This makes him turn back to face Yibo fully, twisting Yibo’s arms at an angle.  “What do you mean?”

“Ugh, Lan Wangji was excruciating by the end.  Come on, dude, you spent all this time with Wei Wuxian and you still can’t see that that dude is all about you.  He literally thinks the sun rises and sets on your oblivious ass.  And just because he said, “Thank you” after a roll in the sheets – or whatever that was – you freak out like a little chicken and throw him out of your room?”

“He did not!”  he says with some feeling, pulling Yibo’s arm down so that he can turn around to see him better.

“Well, he didn’t really call him back when he left.  Where was he going to go?  The whole freaking world is against him.  He is sort of completely dependent on Lan Wangji.”

“Maybe that’s why he didn’t like being thanked.  Maybe he just feels like Wei Wuxian thinks he owes him.”

“Since when has Wei Wuxian repaid gratitude with a hand-job?”

“Okay!” he says, turning back around so that he doesn’t face Yibo anymore.

“I mean, it was much more tastefully and carefully worded in your chapter, but basically what’s what happened, isn’t it?”

“I’m not talking about this with you.”  He says, knowing that his neck is starting to flush.  Goddamnit.

But Yibo just pulls him back in by the shoulder, getting back to the massage as if nothing amiss is happening.   “Why not?”

“Because you have very strong feelings about Lan Wangji.” He answers, hoping Yibo will leave it there.

“Yea, because you have very strong feelings for Lan Wangji!”

“He’s my character!  Obviously I’m invested!”

They pause for a moment as his 6:30 alarm goes off and he grabs his phone to shut it off. 

“Are you jealous?” he asks, as if that thought only just occurred to him.

“Fuck, yes.”  Yibo admits so readily that Xiao Zhan giggles.  It’s silly.  The whole conversation is silly.  Half of their conversations are utterly ridiculous.

They are quiet for some time after, Yibo really putting some strength into his fingers until Xiao Zhan feels his muscles turn to silly putty and he leans back without thought.  He catches himself at the last moment before he sways fully into Yibo’s chest, although he looks back slightly to say softly.  “Yibo…”

“Hm?”

“I like this too much to lose it.”

Yibo is quiet, although his hands slowly move down Xiao Zhan’s shoulder and down his arms, kneading the last bits, finishing off his work.

“Like you said before, sex… is just sex.  But it also makes things weird.  You like sex the way you like it because it allows you to just enjoy it without worrying about the other shit that could come with it.  You like me the way you like me because things between us don’t have to be complicated that way.  There’s always room to repair and reconnect even when things go wrong.  But with sex, the damage might be final.  Besides, with sex, you’ll get bored.  You’ll want to stop, try new things.  New people.  And that’s not a judgment.  That’s just who you are and what makes you you.  I like that about you.  Sometimes I live vicariously through you.  In most ways, you’re more honest than I’m ever brave enough to be.  But that’s sort of why our friendship has survived over decades and with such different personalities.  Let’s not ruin it over a momentary curiosity.”

“Momentary curiosity?”  Yibo asks, his tone merely an inquiry with no real ire attached.

“Hm…” he nods.  “You’re so used to having all of me, and all of a sudden there is this new way to have me too, so you want to know what that’ll be like.  To have me that way too.  Even if it’s not something you usually want.  And you’re open and honest enough with your feelings to think of that scenario with no real unease or judgment.”

Yibo seems to be listening intently.

“Just because we have thoughts, doesn’t mean we should follow all of them to fruition.  What if we try something like that and I get totally weirded out and want nothing to do with you anymore?”

“Oh please, you can’t live without me.” Yibo answers easily.

It surprises him, how quickly and absolutely Yibo makes such a devastating proclamation.

He turns back to look at Yibo and sees the grin. Not a smirk, but an actual bonafide grin. Yibo style.  It’s pretty deadly. 

He has seen it used on others; Yibo used it regularly with his mother to get out of trouble.  When he was in the mood to indulge her, that is.

He has seen it used on girls that Yibo wanted to sleep with. 

He had used it in school with teachers to pull Xiao Zhan out of class for something.  

He used it on puppies and bunnies and kittens too. 

And occasionally, he used it on him, just like this.

“I can’t?” Xiao Zhan asks.

Yibo’s grin deflates a little at the underlying challenge in his voice.   “Maybe you can. I don’t want to find out, okay?  I don’t want to live without you.  There, better?”

He thinks of it for a moment, then gives in, and smiles.  “Save the pretty talk for all your girls.  Don’t waste it on me.”

He starts to turn back and Yibo seizes him around the waist into a hug. “Ya! that’s not pretty talk.  I don’t waste words.”

“No, you just throw them around willy nilly.”  He says, although he doesn’t move away from the embrace.  There’s a little hesitation in it, like Yibo’s not exactly sure he will indulge him, and so he leans back a bit and Yibo tightens his hold.

“Does it mean you won’t sleep on the couch anymore?”  Yibo asks.

“That depends.”

“On what?’

“Are we going to have a repeat performance of last night at some point in the future?”

“No, I think you shot me dead and then fired a few more just to be sure.  So, I think we’re good.”

“Okay then.”

“Okay then?”

“Okay then, I won’t sleep on the couch anymore.”  He says with a grin, pulling off Yibo’s hands and turning around again.  “I’ll make you breakfast before you go.”

Yibo smiles his pretty smile.

It’s a little blinding and he averts his eyes before he knows not to, but is saved from it being obvious when his phone beeps.

He looks at it to see that it’s his mother’s reply to his text to her last night, thanking her for the food and Jojo’s sweet buns.

I’m glad that you have risen from the dead, you hermit.  I was going to come and check in on you when Yibo called offering to bring you food.  He must have gotten you Jojo’s buns.  That boy, he is sweet in the most unexpected ways.  Maybe I should tell Lili to call off the date if Yibo’s really not interested.

He looks up and sees that Yibo is looking at him.  “Who is it?  Your mom?  You should call her, you know.  She was worried.”

He nods and gets up from the couch to walk to the kitchen.  He takes the eggs and cheese and scallions out of the refrigerator when Yibo trails along into the kitchen, opening the cupboard to grab the salt and pepper.

“You really don’t want to go on this date?”  he asks as he turns on the stove and puts the omelet-size cast iron pan on.

Yibo takes a long moment to answer. “I’ll go.”

He stares at the pan, feeling none of the relief that he thought he would feel.

“I won’t force you.  I’ll talk to your mom.  I’m sure she’ll see reason and let you race.”

“No, it’s okay.  You gave her your word, after all.  I’ll go.  Like you said, it’s just one date.”

Right.

                                                                              xxxxxxxxxx

Chapter Text

A week later, the date happens.

He purposely goes to a movie with Ji Li that evening so that he won’t be at home trying not to think about it.  Yibo sends him a text at the beginning of it, saying, “Here goes nothing.  You owe me.”

Ji Li has dragged him to see some high-octane chase thriller and he is thankful that the movie is so loud and in-his-face in every which way possible that he can’t even hear his own thoughts.

They go to a bar afterwards and Ji Li keeps up a steady stream of conversation that he nods to here and there, glad that Ji Li sometimes seemed to know exactly what he needed. 

“So how do you think Yibo’s date went?”  Ji Li asks at the end of the night as they’re walking back to his place.  Ji Li lives three blocks down from him.

“Haven’t heard anything.  Probably went well.  Otherwise, he would have called already.” 

“Hmm…” Ji Li says.  “I hope it works out.”

“You do?”  He asks.  “Why?”

“So, you can finally date someone in peace. No offense, but Yibo really does monopolize your time.  It’s like he has the best of both worlds.  He gets sex on the regular on the side, but for everything else, he comes to you.  Because you’re not really built to do things that way, you always lose out.” 

He had an odd feeling in his stomach and he wants to cut this conversation off here, but at the same time, he wants to hear it too, what he and Yibo seem like to other people.

“What do you mean?  How do I lose out?”

“Oh, come on!  The last time you dated anyone was when Yibo was literally not around.  And even then, you came back to hang out with us every weekend.  You just cannot say no to him.  How can you meet anyone if you only hang out with him and the rest of us that you’ve known forever?  One day, he’s going to meet someone and move on.  I just want that to be sooner than later because I don’t want you to be entirely out of practice by the time that happens.”

The weird feeling in his stomach has moved up to his chest. 

“You make it sound like he just hangs out with me biding his time until it’s time to move on with his life onto bigger and better things.”

“I’m sorry it came out that way.  I think he genuinely enjoys your company.  But it’s Yibo, you know.  He’s a lot more carefree than you.  You need time to open up, feel comfortable, build something, etc. etc. and then you keep it for life.  He, on the other hand, can do that whole process in one night and be done.”  Ji Li pauses.  And a moment later, as if he has distilled all his thoughts, adds, “Time.  It passes differently for the both of you.  I adore him.  But, but when it comes to you, Xiao Zhan, if you put no boundaries on him, he will take as much as you will give and then more.  When was the last time you even went on a date?”

He doesn’t really remember, which means that it’s been some time indeed. 

“But that’s hardly his fault.  I’ve just been busy with the last novel for most of the past six months.”

“I know.  But now it’s over, right?  So, we should celebrate.  And you should go on a date.  Just like Yibo.”

There is an immediate resistance in his head to that suggestion that comes out of nowhere that makes him think that maybe Ji Li is right.  He has gotten too comfortable with just hanging out with Yibo and their friend group, with their game nights and movie nights and karaoke sessions, and random potluck dinners at his apartment where he ends up cooking mostly everything anyways…

He hasn’t even thought of the lack of a dating life for a while.  And maybe Lan Wangji had taken up too many of his thoughts in that respect for the better part of last year.  The perils of being an introvert.  He got too set into routines, too resistant to change.   Until change just descended on him, screaming and kicking.

“Maybe you’re right.  I should start dating again.”

“Yea?”  Ji Li smiles.  “I have someone perfect in mind.”

He hates being set up.  But he doesn’t tell Ji Li that because he looks so excited at the prospect.  He listens on and off for the rest of the walk as Ji Li tells him about someone named Wang Yizhou.  He owns a local gym, evidently, “but is not just a meathead.”  He’s quite sweet.  And some other things.  He will set up something soon so that they can meet.  Etc. etc. 

Xiao Zhan nods.

He gets home feeling more winded than usual and washes up for bed, ignoring his phone.  Trying to ignore his phone.

Just as he turns off his lamp, his phone beeps.  He holds his breath as he wonders if he should look at it.

Curiosity wins out and he does. 

“There. It’s done.”  Yibo has written.

“And?” he writes back.

“It wasn’t awful.”

That means it went exceptionally well.

He doesn’t ask anything else.

A week later, Yibo has another date.  Her name is Zanilia.  It takes her a bit to warm up, but she has an edgy humor.  Is skinnier than what Yibo usually likes.  Has killer comebacks.  Hates cooking.  Has a partially deaf Dalmatian for a pet. 

Yibo doesn’t want to admit it, or maybe doesn’t even know, but Xiao Zhan knows.  Yibo likes her.  Mrs. Wang is pleased.  She asks Zanilia if she has any interest in watching Yibo’s race.  She is not against it; she rides a bike herself, although certainly not professionally.  It’s enough to enlist her to go see the race. 

He wonders if that means that he is not required to go.  He doesn’t want to interrupt the couple’s time together, so he thinks of a valid reason to cry off so that everyone can be at ease.  It’s not a valid reason, but he gets one anyways.  On the day of Yibo’s race, Ji Li arranges for him to meet with Yizhou.  Instead of asking for a different day like he usually would have done, he accepts it.  Tells Mrs. Wang that something came up; she is only too happy to let him off the hook now that Zanilia will be there to watch and report back.

He thinks all is well until the morning of the race when gets a text from Yibo saying that he has two seats reserved and to collect the tickets at the arena. 

>> Didn’t your mom tell you?  It’s just Zanilia today.  I can’t come. He texts back.

<< Why not?

>> And be the third wheel?  No thanks.

<< Are you fucking kidding me?

>> Oh, come on, Yibo!  You really want me to tag along with you guys?  

<< It’s not a date, asshole.  It’s the fucking ARRC.  What I’ve training to qualify for for 3 FUCKING years.   

Fuck.  He knows where this is going.  He should have checked with Yibo.  He had just assumed that Yibo would be okay with this.  He had not thought that Yibo genuinely wanted him to be there. 

<< If you’re uncomfortable with Zanilia being there, I can just ask her to not come.  It’s not a big deal.   

>> Don’t fucking do that.  What is wrong with you?  

<< Then?  Are you coming or not?  

>> I

>> I have plans, Yibo.

<< What plans? 

He didn’t even know why he said that.  He shouldn’t have said anything.  Either way, now if he doesn’t go, Yibo’ll never forgive him.

>> Never mind. I’ll come. 

<< What plans? 

He sighs and shakes his head.

>> Nothing that can’t be rescheduled.  I’ll come.

He calls Yizhou himself to cancel; he doesn’t want Ji Li to bear that burden.  He thinks of apologizing and getting off the phone, but Yizhou ends up being sweeter than expected and asks whether he wants to meet up for coffee earlier instead.

Before answering, he texts Yibo and asks if he can get an extra ticket. 

<< Why? Are you going to bring someone?

>> Do you mind?

<< Seriously, you’re going to bring a date to the race?

>> Well, if I have to be there with your girlfriend, then why can’t I bring a date?

<< Fine.

>> Fine, you don’t want me to come?  Or fine, I can bring someone?

<< I’ll get another ticket.

And he asks Yizhou if, instead of cancelling, he wants to go to the ARRC instead.  Yizhou had been planning on catching it on TV and is thrilled to watch it in person instead.

And that’s how he ends up at the ARRC on a double-date with Wang Yibo and his girlfriend.

                                                                            xxxxxxxx

Chapter Text

Yizhou is… wow. Yea. Hm…

It’s hard to believe, and Xiao Zhan knows he certainly should be the last one brushing anyone with any broad strokes of stereotypes, but… the fact remains, it’s hard to believe Yizhou is gay. And evidently, that’s what he is. Fully. Not bi. Not any other shades of pan. But, gay. No interest in women, whatsoever. At least, according to Ji Li.

And now that he has seen Yizhou, in person, again, wow.

He has questions. Why is Yizhou still single? Why didn’t Ji Li make a move on Yizhou himself?

Even so, Xiao Zhan has to admit, the attraction for him is not immediate. Yizhou is the type of man he likes to look at in a magazine and admire, and maybe touch in a fantasy sort of way, but in reality, Yizhou is a bit larger than life and … overwhelming.

The only guy that Xiao Zhan has slept with had been quite normal. With a typical physique, not lanky or buff, a little squishy around the belly, with the rest of it all adequate and proportional.  He had been into it, obviously. Not the body, he was hardly ever into anybody just for their body. But he had been into the total package. He had been funny and sweet and had been relaxing to be around. And Xiao Zhan thinks that he needs to be relaxed to be turned on. Not intimidated, no matter how good looking the guy is. And Yizhou really is good looking. Quite intimidatingly good-looking. And evidently bestowed with the manners of a saint. Ji Li has really procured him the stuff of dreams. Which once again begs the question, why hasn’t Ji Li snatched him up himself? Yizhou was exactly Ji Li’s type. Was there a history there, he wonders? Had they hooked up, but it hadn’t worked out? He should check in with Ji Li to make sure. He is not about to date his friend’s ex- boyfriend or hook-up. He didn’t want that sort of complication.

“Hey…” Yizhou says when they are finally near each other to greet properly. They had agreed to meet at the arena, which is way more crowded than usual. In all the times that he has been here before to watch Yibo’s practices and qualifying races, it’s never been like this.

“Hey…” he returns with a smile. Up close, Yizhou is even more handsome. With a deep voice. Not quite as deep as Yibo’s, but almost. With a distinct lack of the perpetual smirk that was attached to Yibo’s tone… as if he found everything in the world slightly amusing.

“Ji Li had warned me that I might be blinded by the smile. I’m glad I was prepared.” Yizhou says.

It takes Xiao Zhan a moment to recognize it for the compliment that it is and his cheeks flush in surprise. Not that it’s the first time someone has complimented his smile, but this… this is such direct flirting that it catches him off-guard. Ji Li’s right, he is out of practice. And suddenly he wishes that he had not suggested the first date being in such a public place. What had he been thinking?

This had been a terrible idea, he realizes, when he catches the green of Yibo’s suit a distance away.

He looks back at Yizhou and Yizhou seems to realize that he has not quite recovered from the compliment, and so he smiles and looks toward the track and says, “This is prime viewing. You know a racer?’

He nods and gestures to where Yibo is standing. “85. That green one.”

Just when Yizhou looks over, someone taps Xiao Zhan from behind and he turns to find a cute petite girl with big eyes. She looks uneasy, although she looks at her phone and then up at him and asks, “Xiao Zhan?”

He nods and smiles. It takes a moment, but then she smiles back too. And he realizes that she is quite beautiful. With the prettiest smile.

“Nice to finally meet you.” He says, ushering her close to him when someone bumps into her from behind. She looks behind and then forward and seems a bit overwhelmed by the crowd. He brings her in between him and Yizhou, Yizhou effectively blocking her from the rest of the crowd. “This is Yizhou” he introduces, as if he had not met Yizhou just five minutes before. “Yizhou, this is Zanilia, Yibo’s girlfriend.”

He’s not sure if the ‘girlfriend’ status is official, but when Zanilia doesn’t correct him or seem surprised, he assumes it is.

Yizhou smiles at her, a disarming smile, and she smiles back.

He breathes a sigh of relief and nudges her, gesturing in the direction of Yibo. “The green one. 85. That’s the man.”

Yibo looks in their direction at that moment and he smiles seeing him. His helmet is on and the visor is down, so he’s not sure if Yibo is actually looking at them, but he gives a short wave anyways, and Zanilia follows suit. It takes a moment, but then Yibo waves back too. And then he’s off.

From the start, he can feel the knots in the pit of his belly. Practices and qualifying rounds were one thing, but this was something else entirely, and for a moment, he wishes that it was just him here. So, he doesn’t have to worry about others and just focus on Yibo. He is thankful when both Yizhou and Zanilia seem similarly absorbed in the race and there is little in the way of conversation once the starting signal goes off. He texts Mrs. Wang every five minutes to assure her that everything is fine. There are ten laps in total and by the sixth lap he thinks his muscles should be less wound up. But instead, he finds that he is unable to focus even though by then Yibo is in the top five. He feels there are winding roots in his belly, like those in horror movies that strangle people to death, and he is fully holding his breath by the time Yibo is in his ninth lap, now in third place. He texts Mrs. Wang that everything is going well for the n-th time and looks up just in time to see Yibo round a turn, crash into the rider in front of him, and fly off the bike. For a moment, he thinks his entire chest cavity has ejected out of his mouth as he watches in surreal slow-mo as Yibo hits the ground and roll three times before stopping and jumping up.

“Oh my God!” he hears Zanilia next to him. Yizhou gasps at the same time.

His throat doesn’t work at all, even when he sees Yibo walk towards the other racer, his hands splayed out, clearly upset, but all limbs intact and ambulatory.

Everything inside him feels like they’re coming apart, the gears all simultaneously going out of alignment, falling this way and that, a coldness spreading through all the gaps left exposed. He watches Yibo try to start the bike, and fail, and thinks that his heart may be failing. Literally. The next ten or fifteen minutes are a blur. There is a commotion when the race is over and Yibo’s teammates are holding him back when it looks like he wants to jump someone.

His phone keeps vibrating in his hand and he finally looks at it, seeing the texts that keep scrolling up. Many are Yibo’s parents and his own, but a fair number of them are from their friends too.

“It’s Yibo’s mom. What should I say?” Zanilia asks him then, showing him her phone screen.

He stares unseeingly at it and then at Zanilia and he thinks his stare may be a little blank because she looks alarmed. He blinks his eyes and tells himself to get it together. “I’ll take care of it.” He says before calling Yibo’s mom. She answers, frantic, and he has to remember to take deep slow breaths to convey some sort of calm to her.

“Yes, yes, I see him Mrs. Wang. Yes, he looks okay. Just angry. Physically there doesn’t seem to be anything wrong. Oh, you can see him on tv? Yea, yea, okay. Yes, I will have him call you as soon as he comes out. Yes, definitely.”

He hangs up then and sees that Yizhou and Zanilia are both looking at him.

“Well, things are usually not this exciting.” He says, splaying his hands out.

Yizhou gives him a sympathetic look.

“Yizhou, do you want to head home? I don’t think Yibo’s going to be very good company when he comes out.”

Yizhou nods in understanding and reaches over for a hug and says that he will call to check in later.

Once Yizhou leaves, he turns to Zanilia. “I’ll wait with you until he comes before heading home. He will probably want some time alone.”

She nods. And they wait.

It’s still another fifteen or twenty minutes before Yibo comes out, now changed into street clothes, his hat and aviators entirely covering the top half of his face.

He turns to Zanilia. “I don’t know if you’ve ever seen him in a bad mood. He doesn’t really like to talk. Just let him de-stress. Be near him, but do other things. He just needs to know someone is around. He doesn’t really like to be completely alone when he is upset. He might just want to go home too. You feel okay with it? You want me to help with anything?”

“It’s okay. I think I got it.” She nods.

He nods, although he can’t help but feel uneasy. She wouldn’t really know how to take care of a cranky, irritated, upset Yibo. Hell, Yibo’s own mother didn’t know what to do with him when he was in this sort of mood.

But really, it’s presumptuous of him to assume that only he could manage Yibo. What Zanilia didn’t know, she’ll learn. That’s sort of the way relationships were built. Not with overinvolved friends who assumed they knew everything and tried to take over.

When Yibo’s close enough, he thinks of telling Zanilia to go home, that he’ll take care of things, but luckily the moment passes. He sees Yibo nod to Zanilia first and is glad then that he didn’t give into his earlier urge and overshoot his own role.

When Yibo looks at him finally, he nods, and shows his phone and says, “Call me later when you feel up to it.”
Then, before things have a chance to get weird, he looks at Zanilia and nods once more before turning to leave.

He manages to walk calmly enough until he is out of the arena, but then sprints to the bus stop, needing to get away.

He barely remembers the ride back to his apartment, although he thinks he was holding his breath the whole time when he is taking the elevator up to his floor.

He sees Yibo the moment he gets out of the elevator. Dressed in baggy gray sweats and a black hoodie, black hat still low, shielding his eyes. He is leaning against the apartment door, entirely still, so still that Xiao Zhan wonders if he’s sleeping while standing.

When he gets to the door, Yibo still doesn’t move, although now he can see that Yibo is not sleeping, but just watching him from under the curved visor.

“How did you get here before me?” he asks.

Yibo sighs. “She had her car. I had her drop me off.”

He looks at Yibo for another beat, and then moves closer to the door. Or at least tries to.

“Move. Let me open the door.”

Yibo doesn’t budge and he has to push him. Yibo lets him do it, a smirk now appearing on that face beneath the shadow of the visor.

And he finally exhales.

When he unlocks the door and walks inside though, Yibo trails behind him and hugs him from behind.

This is not unusual for Yibo, to be physically needy when upset, and Xiao Zhan stands still, breathing his way slowly through the thudding in his chest. The thudding is new. He hopes it’s because of the shock from earlier.

When it doesn’t seem like Yibo wants to let go, he eventually asks, “You okay?”

It takes a moment, but then he hears, “hmm…” Yibo’s cheek pressed against his shoulder.

“Did you have a doctor check? Did anyone there check? Did you call your mom?” Now that he has started to ask, he can’t stop the questions and he turns around to face Yibo, lifting up his hoodie. He can see the bruising right away, its shadows everywhere, some already darkening across the belly and wrapping around the back. When he turns Yibo around to survey the damage on his back, Yibo pulls the hoodie over his neck and takes it off entirely.

“Fuck, Yibo. Did anyone check? Did they have a doctor check?” he asks again. The back is even worse, large angry bruises much more visible across its expanse.

“Yes, a doctor checked. No broken bones. I walked away okay, so there.”

He traces over some of the worst ones until he feels Yibo’s muscles contract. He pulls back his hand and turns away.
“You want to take a quick bath? I’ll make a hot compress for your back. And get some painkillers.”

“I want some alcohol.” Yibo says, walking to the shower.

The shower runs for a while before Yibo comes out dressed in the new pair of sweats and t-shirt that he had given him. By then, he has already spoken with Yibo’s mother and his own parents. Yibo falls onto the couch rather than his recliner and he can then imagine how much pain he must really be in. He calls Mrs. Wang and puts the phone to Yibo ear. He doesn’t take it, but allows him to hold it there as he says, “hmm...” “hmm.” “Yes.” “Yes.” and then, “Bye.”

He leaves Yibo with the remote and goes to the kitchen to make a quick broth with chicken and scallions. By the time it’s ready and he comes back to the living room, Yibo is asleep on the couch. He momentarily thinks to leave him be, but knows that he needs food before taking medicine.

Yibo doesn’t lift his head off the armrest, but doesn’t resist when he tries to feed him. It takes ages to finish the whole soup, but eventually Yibo does, although it’s uncomfortable as shit to feed him when he won’t cooperate in any way, holding his head faced only in the direction of the tv, catching a rerun of his silly show. Xiao Zhan is glad though that he doesn’t try to flip the channels and run the risk of coming across the scenes from the race replaying on one of them.

When he brings the medicine out, Yibo finally sits up and says, “I want vodka.”

“I don’t have vodka.”

“I want beer.”

“I don’t have beer.”

“Liar.”

“Take this instead.”

“I’m not taking it. I will walk to the store to get beer if I have to, Xiao Zhan. I’m not kidding.”

He stares at Yibo for a moment. And then calls his bluff. “Go ahead.”

There is an almost pout on Yibo’s lips before he bites down on his lower lip and closes his eyes.

“Fine, have it your way.” He says after a moment, getting up from the couch, and walking to the bedroom.

Xiao Zhan gives him a few minutes before going to check in on him and by then Yibo is already under the covers with his eyes closed.

After some pushing and prodding, Yibo yields finally and takes the medicine, still putting on a good show of not wanting it.

“You’re a spoiled brat, you know that?” he asks after Yibo finishes the glass of water and gives the cup back.

Yibo smiles and slides down under the covers again.

He leaves the room, turning the light off and closing the door.

“Where are you going?” he hears from under the covers.

“I’ve to take a shower. And eat. And you know, do all the things that you already did.”

When Yibo doesn’t answer, he starts to close the door, but before he shuts its fully, he hears Yibo’s soft voice.

“Don’t sleep on the couch. Please.”

xxxxxxxx

Chapter Text

It takes him a long time to make his way to the bedroom that night. He lingers in the living room as long as he can, reviewing comments on the forum – the story is doing well, and he is glad, he is too invested in Lan Wangji to not take it personally if it didn’t – and replying back to all of their friends who has been blowing up his phone. He doesn’t even think they attempt to text Yibo, intuitively knowing that Yibo would be at his place. He had already texted back Haikuan, Ji Li, Yubin, Xuan Lu, and Meng Ziyi, assuring them that Yibo is just a little knocked up, but otherwise okay.

Yizhou had texted earlier to check in and he replies now, keeping it short and sweet, his answer not really inviting a continuation of their exchange. At least for tonight. When it’s almost midnight, he knows that he has dragged his feet enough and takes himself to bed. He puts as much distance between Yibo and him as his queen size bed allows. He tends to stay in place in sleep. Yibo tends to get warm at night, throw off the covers and flop around a bit, and it’s not unusual for one of his limbs to occasionally fall on Xiao Zhan who is used to just pushing it off and moving him away. Yibo rarely resists, but is deadweight in sleep and so he has to put some effort into the pushing.

He knows he can’t do that tonight. Hopefully the medicine’s effects are strong and long and Yibo won’t be in pain.

It takes him a while to fall asleep, the scenes from the race running in a loop in his head and when he finally sleeps, he’s restless, fighting his dreams even before they come, as if he knows what they will show. So close is he to wakefulness that he hears Yibo’s whimpers right away.

Yibo has barely moved from where he lay down and the noises he’s making now sounds like an injured little animal. He steels his heart and body as he moves closer. Yibo is sleeping turned away from him and when he gently pulls him back, he can feel the heat of Yibo’s skin. It’s unnaturally warm. The thermometer by his bedside drawer produces a forehead reading of 38c. It’s only been a little over four hours since the last dose of medicine and he knows he has to wait at least six. He goes to get a cold washcloth to place on Yibo’s forehead, but Yibo throws it off right away, irritated.

“It’s to reduce your fever.” He whispers and moves closer again to put it back on. Yibo’s hand comes up again to knock it off, but he holds Yibo’s fingers and pulls them away.

“You can’t take the medicine for another two hours, come on Yibo.”

Yibo must be partially awake, because he doesn’t try to take it off anymore, but instead pulls his hand out of Xiao Zhan’s hold and wraps it around his waist instead, pulling him close.

He closes his eyes and sighs but doesn’t try to pull away. Yibo hugs him even tighter and his forehead – with the wet cloth and all – is now pressed into his neck. He tries to sit with the discomfort of the wetness and cold until he gets used to it and like everything uncomfortable, it gets easier. It gets easier because the cloth gets warmer too, sandwiched between Yibo’s forehead and his own neck.

He thinks he won’t sleep like this, his body too stiff in Yibo’s hold to truly relax. But, then he does. He falls asleep much quicker than before.

And this time he dreams. He dreams of Lan Wangji, of all people. And contrary to what he had feared earlier, it’s not a bad dream.
Lan Wangji is looking at him in that way of his, as if trying to show everything he has ever felt all in the orbs of that gaze, and even before he catches his own reflection, he knows he must look like Wei Wuxian. And he does. It makes him sink into the dream more, knowing that Lan Wangji is not actually seeing him, but Wei Wuxian. He is not even truly Wei Wuxian, but residing in a little corner in Wei Wuxian’s head, like a visitor.

The more he can see out through Wei Wuxian’s eyes, the deeper and deeper he sinks, until there is a veritable ocean of love floating around him. He hears Wei Wuxian call out, “Lan Zhan” and then it’s not just an ocean, but the warmth of flesh and blood, of skin on skin, of the heat of open-mouthed kisses pressed into his neck, of the tip of a tongue licking against his collarbone. He feels guilty for taking even a bit of this from Wei Wuxian, but even so, he can’t pull himself out, and when he feels an insistent sucking against neck, he gives into a moan along with Wei Wuxian.

Wei Wuxian calls out, the name on his lips an intimate endearment…

Except he doesn’t hear Lan Zhan’s name… And it doesn’t sound like Wei Wuxian’s voice…

And just like that, he is pulled out of Wei Wuxian’s body, and there is a moment as he is being sucked out of their world that they both turn to look at him, Wei Wuxian with pity, Lan Wangji with something that he can no longer understand. It strikes him that he can only understand Lan Wangji when he is inside Wei Wuxian.

He opens his eyes to the darkness and to Yibo’s hot mouth all over his neck, Yibo’s body hot against his, but no longer from the fever.

He wonders if Yibo is awake or in the aftermath of a dream like him.

If Yibo’s dreaming, it’s just a matter of returning him to it and to sleep. With no real awareness of this slipup.
There is no need to overreact. It is, in fact, important not to overreact. He has just been without this sort of physical contact for a long long while. That is all.

Yibo is pulling his entire body against him and before their hips turn against each other, he has to push Yibo away and pretend to still be asleep.

At this point, he doesn’t really care if Yibo is awake or not, he just needs Yibo to think that he himself is asleep and thus make a way for them to get out of this without making it worse.

But Yibo is Yibo. When has Yibo ever behaved in a way that would be normal?

When he pretends to turn away in sleep, Yibo just pulls him back and says, “I know you’re awake.”

He sighs and mentally gathers strength before opening his eyes. “Why can’t you just let it be, Yibo? It was a dream-induced little blip. I gave us an out. Take it and go back to sleep.”

“And pretend it didn’t happen?” Yibo asks.

“Yes.” He says, starting to turn away.

“I don’t want to.” Yibo says, pulling him back.

“Oh my God, Yibo. Have some fucking sense.”

“But I liked kissing you.”

He prays for patience as he explains, as if to a child, “Kissing tends to be a pleasurable activity for most people.”

“I have kissed a lot. It doesn’t feel like that.”

“Well, I didn’t feel anything.” He answers, at his wit's end.

“You said my name and moaned. How could you do that and not feel anything?”

“I didn’t say your name. I said Lan Zhan. I was dreaming about him.”

Even in the darkness, he can see that this gives Yibo pause.

But then Yibo shakes his head. “You definitely said Yibo. That doesn't even sound like Lan Zhan.”

He shakes his head, although Yibo doesn’t really take that as any sort of resistance as he pulls him back into his arms again.

He doesn’t push him away this time. Because Yibo will just think that he is resisting because he feels the same.

He should take another approach. A more direct approach. In the event that the fever and events of the day past have erased all of Yibo’s memories of another very direct conversation they had several weeks back.

“You can’t always just act on how you feel.” He says, holding Yibo’s gaze as much as he can in the dark.

“I can, with you.” Yibo says easily.

He wants to feel irritated, but instead he feels something else entirely. He pushes it aside.

“Why? You think you can just use and abuse me as you please?”

“No. I want to kiss you some more. And then some more. And touch you too. Everywhere.”

As well as they know each other, and as long as they’ve known each other, Yibo still manages to make him speechless sometimes. Like right now. He doesn’t even know how to react.

“You’re crazy.” He finally says.

“I know. I did go a little crazy when I saw that guy next to you today. Where did you even find him?”

It takes him a moment to realize what Yibo is saying.

“Don’t tell me…” he starts.

Yibo raises an eyebrow and pulls him in closer.

“Don’t tell you what?”

He can’t even say it. There is no way…

“It didn’t cause the accident, obviously. I wanted to win. I had fully intended to at least place second. If only to show off.”

“Show off to whom? Yizhou? Why would he care? How would he even know? He met your girlfriend. It wouldn’t even occur to him to see you as a threat.”

“I know!” Yibo says in frustration, dropping his head into Xiao Zhan’s neck again.

He can feel the effect it has on his body immediately. Leave it to Yibo to fuck everything up.

“But you’re mine.” Yibo says easily, as if he said this sort of thing all the time. “It’s driving me insane to think of someone else touching you. Now tell me, is that heterosexual behavior?” Yibo asks, lifting his head.

He has no words. At least none that make a lick of sense.

Because at this rate, Yibo can only be stopped by either cutting him off for good or to just give in and let Yibo do whatever he wanted until he got bored and moved on.

“And what about what I want?” he asks finally.

Yibo lifts his head. “You… don’t want me?”

He shakes his head. “Not like this.”

Yibo’s face falls.

“I must give you everything that you ask for that you’ve just gotten so spoiled. One day you decide that there’s more to take and so you want that too.”

If his intention was to dissuade Yibo – and yes, indeed it was – it falls by the wayside because Yibo is undeterred. “I can give. I want to give. I want to make you feel good. How can I make you feel good?”

“Oh, fuck Yibo.” he says in exasperation, fighting his body’s baser urges reacting to Yibo in mutiny against his head.

“I already know that you would want a lot of foreplay, maybe months of just kissing and touching. Nothing below the waist.”

True.

He turns away from Yibo, although Yibo just spoons him from behind, taking care to keep his hips turned away as if demonstrating his previous point.

“Not true.” He says, elbowing Yibo without thinking. Yibo goes silent and he immediately turns around to see that Yibo is biting down on his lips.

“Oh fuck, I’m so sorry. I didn’t even think.” He says, pulling Yibo closer to rub against his ribs gently where he had elbowed him.

When he looks up, Yibo’s gaze is soft.

He takes in that gaze and says, he’ll recall later as a moment when he had fully lost his mind, “Three months.”

“Three months?” Yibo asks.

“You can indulge your curiosity for three months and then we’ll stop.”

Yibo’s gaze changes. The softness shutters.

“You mean, you’ll let me have a physical relationship with you for three months to get it out of my system?”

“I didn’t mean it like that.” He says, pulling his hand back.

“Yes. You did.”

He waits a moment to answer, refusing to back down now. “I told you sex would change things.”

Yibo waits a long while to answer. And then says, “You know what, I don’t want sex.”

He nods. “Good choice.”

“You can have sex with whoever you want to. Whether it’s Yizhou or someone else.”

“Okay…” Xiao Zhan says, for lack of another response.

“But I just want you. So, I can continue this same way.”

“What?” he asks now, not understanding.

“You see, I want to know too, whether you’re right about me. Whether I am someone who will get bored or frustrated if I don’t get sex. Besides, why should I not love you just because you don’t love me that way? That doesn’t make any sense. You can do whatever you want. And I’ll do whatever I want.”

“What??” he asks, his voice taking on an edge of panic. “What does that even mean?”

“I’m going to love you. In just this way. Not using my body. Well, I’ll hug you still. I hope that’s still ok. But if it’s not, I’ll see what I can do to let go of that habit.”

“Yibo, you’re not making any sense. Has the fever come back?” he puts the back of his hand against Yibo’s forehead.

“I’ve been thinking a lot over the past few weeks. I made an honest effort to move on, you know. Really thought about everything you said, that maybe I’m just curious, maybe I’m just possessive. I don’t want anyone else to have you in the ways that I can’t have you, etc. etc. I gave another relationship a chance too.”

“You barely went on three dates with her.” He cut in.

“It doesn’t matter. I only did that because I thought it was in your best interest. But when I saw you try so hard to not show me how worried you were yesterday and when you put up with all my bullshit last night, well… Why should I lie to myself? I have never even wanted to be in a relationship with anyone else. Because I always had you. I still have you. Even without this going any further than how it is, it’s still perfect. For me.”

He is quiet. Not because he doesn’t have things to say. But because… Part of him just wants to fall into this moment. And roll around in it. And give in and just kiss Yibo. And see if any of that earlier feeling would still be there now that he is not partially dreaming.

But that would be stupid. Yibo is clearly in the throes of a new passion. Undeterred and perseverant. Especially because he had been told no.
He shouldn’t have put the 3-month time limit; he should have just let it happen and then be prepared for it when Yibo grew tired and moved on. But now, because of how he had handled it, Yibo took it as a challenge.

“So you’re planning on doing what?” he asks.

“Being in a one-way relationship with you.” Yibo answers, and there is the shadow of a smirk on his face, as if the answer amused him.

“Is that funny?” he asks, irritated. “You think you can wear me down that easily?”

The smirk disappears. “No. You’re the most steadfast human alive. I could very well wait forever.”

The irritation changes to anger. “Don’t commit to something that is not you. This is not the next mountain you need to conquer.”

Yibo falls quiet. His eyes are open though. And Xiao Zhan wishes he could see them more clearly.

“Yibo.” he calls after a moment.

“Hmm…” Yibo murmurs.

“Say something.”

Yibo looks at him some more and then answers, “What more is there to say?”

He sounds so dejected that he can’t bear it. He moves closer and smooths Yibo’s hair back.

“Don’t ruin us.” He murmurs when Yibo’s eyes close and he pushes into his hand, like a puppy asking for more.

Yibo’s eyes open then. “I thought a lot about what you said before. How everything we do for each other is just friendship. And I’ve been watching other relationships. Close friends. Hell, even Haikuan and Yubin. Lulu and Ziyi. None of them are like us though. Have you never wondered why?”

No, he thinks, closing his eyes. Yes…

“We’ve known each other a lot longer than they have.”

“Hardly. We all grew up together.”

“Okay, yes, maybe we are closer than most friends.” He has to admit at least that much. Anything else is a self-evident falsehood.

“Why didn’t you tell me that you had a boyfriend in college?” Yibo asks now.

The question catches him off-guard and for a moment, he says nothing.

Yibo takes his silence as permission to continue. “Seems an enormous oversight between best friends.”

“I was afraid you would somehow ruin it.” He says.

“But you ruined it yourself before I ever even got a chance to meet him.”

A moment passes when he remembers. “Sometimes, relationships don’t work out. That doesn’t mean it had anything to do with you.”

“If I didn’t even know you were in a relationship, then it’s because you never gave me a reason to even doubt that you were in one. And for that, you must have never said no to me. Coming back from college every weekend. Allowing me to come visit you whenever I wanted. Wasn’t he frustrated that he got so little of you?”

He closes his eyes and turns around.

Yibo scoots in closer behind, but doesn’t touch him.

“If I didn’t know any better, I would think you’ve been in love with me a long time.”

He moves a bit forward to put more distance between him and Yibo before he answers, “I’m glad you know better.”

xxxxxxx

Chapter Text

By the time Yibo comes out of the bedroom the next morning, Xiao Zhan is already in the kitchen making French toast, because he is in that sort of mood. Bread and sugar and milk sounds good. Simple and familiar. No guesswork. He could do it in his sleep. The key is to get thick, sweet bread. Then it’s practically impossible to mess it up. If he wants to go the extra mile, he adds good quality vanilla essence and cinnamon. Drizzle some maple syrup on top. He loves it. The whole thing. From beginning to end. Especially savoring the first bite. And the next. And the next until he could lick the last bit of maple syrup off with his finger, standing over the sink.

The best part? Yibo hates French toast.

The water running in the bathroom shuts off and there is some shuffling around before he hears Yibo coming.

Against his specific instructions, his windpipe clogs up for a second. He tells it to stop being dramatic. It fails miserably when Yibo hugs him from the back, rubbing his wet face against the back of his thin white t-shirt.

“Fuck Yibo.” he sighs in the middle of flipping the last of the slices of the eggy bread.

“Was that necessary?” he asks, focusing his attention only on the French toast. And not on Yibo’s arms around him. They could literally wrap three-quarters of the way around his waist.

“Hmm…” Yibo rubs against his t-shirt some more. “You’re being passive-aggressive and making French toast, so I’ll return the favor and use your shirt as my towel.”

“Definitely the stuff of first-tier courtship. Annoy the shit out of the object of your affections.” he murmurs as he starts taking the slices out one by one.

It takes a moment to feel that Yibo has stilled, wrapped around him and all, and once again he holds his breath as he reviews what he just said.

“You’re letting me court you?” Yibo lifts his head and whispers right into his ear.

He should have had some coffee before embarking on this mission to make the breakfast Yibo hates the most. So, he could get his head on straight.

“As if you know how to court someone.” he says instead. As if this is somehow a better option as far as things to say to Wang Yibo right at this moment.

Yibo is not dissuaded. “You’re letting me?” he asks again.

“You mean it was an option to get you to back off?” he turns off the stove, but doesn’t dare turn around. It’s sort of difficult to do that anyways given how Yibo has him sandwiched between the stove.

“Not really. But really? You’re letting me?”

He shakes his head in answer as he tears off a piece from a slice and stuffs it in his mouth. Mainly so he won’t say anything else no matter how much Yibo provokes him.
“Oh fuck, Xiao Zhan.” Yibo mutters then and he looks back.

“What? Don’t worry, I’ll make you something else. What do you want?”

His chewing stops midway, as does his blood flow, when Yibo reaches out his index finger to draw a short line down the side of his neck.

“What?” he asks when Yibo’s finger pauses.

“I… sucked too hard.” Yibo says, almost in wonder. “Either that, or you bruise easy.”

He turns around completely now and Yibo is forced to let go. “Are you saying there is a mark there?” he asks, running his finger over where Yibo’s had been a moment ago.

“The first hickey I’ve ever given anyone.” Yibo stands back now, a smirk forming on those lips, seeming pleased.

He pushes Yibo back and walks to the bathroom to look in the mirror. He has to turn almost a full 45 degrees to see it on the side of his neck, oh but it’s there, long and purple.

“What the fuck!” he says, trying to rub at it.

“That’s not going to do anything.” Yibo says now from the open doorway to the bathroom. He sounds amused.

“I thought you said this is your first time giving a hickey. How are you an expert?” he asks in irritation, turning back to look in the mirror.

“I’ve gotten one or two before. Had to wear a turtleneck for a few days.”

“It’s summer, asshole. And all our friends are coming over to see your idiotic behind tonight.” he says, opening the cabinet behind the mirror to get the fine hair comb that’s there.

“Oh, don’t tell me…” Yibo says when he starts trying to comb out the hickey.

“You know for an educated man, you’re a real dumbass.” Yibo comes in to take the comb from him. “That’s just going to irritate the skin further!”

“Then why don’t you figure out something that won’t irritate it?” Xiao Zhan asks. In irritation.

He should have paid attention to Yibo’s expression, but he is still looking in the cabinet to see what cures it held that would magically erase the incriminating evidence for the rest of the crew to chase after in the evening. They wouldn’t suspect Yibo, but it would be a never-ending rabbit-hole of digging into Xiao Zhan’s secret sex life.

“Let me see.” Yibo says, turning him so that he is facing him. Yibo is serious as he lifts Xiao Zhan’s chin and tilts his head sideways, taking stock of how bad the bruising is.

“To not irritate it…” he starts and Xiao Zhan perks up, but Yibo just leans in to press his lips against the bruise.

It catches him so off-guard that it takes him a moment to push Yibo away.

“You think it’s a joke, Yibo?”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I just couldn’t help myself.”

“When can you ever help yourself?” he asks as he turns back to the mirror to look at the mark again. His skin in tingling.

“I don’t, do I?” Yibo asks and something about his tone makes him look sideways.

“I just help myself to you in every way you let me.”

He raises an eyebrow. “And in some ways that I don’t.”

“Hey, hey, this was done with your enthusiastic consent.” At least some of Yibo’s indignation seems not fake.

“I told you, I was in Wei Wuxian’s head and he was in the middle of being devoured by Lan Wangji. Just a case of mistaken identity.”

This is clearly the wrong thing to say because Yibo is on him in the next instant, backing him against the sliding door of the shower stall.

“Mistaken identity?” he asks.

Xiao Zhan nods.

Yibo glares some more before asking, “Haven’t you wondered why your Wei Wuxian listens to Lan Wangji’s heartbeat?”

“What?” he asks, holding both his palms against Yibo’s chest to keep him at a distance.

“Lan Wangji.”

“What about him?”

“He makes Wei Wuxian listen to his heartbeat because his stupid face doesn’t say much.”

“What about it?” he asks. Yibo should only smell like his own soap, but there’s something else too. And he’s trying not to inhale it anymore because it’s fucking with his head.

“Where did you get that from?”

“What do you mean where did I get that from? It’s not the most original idea, but it’s a very appropriate trope for them.”

He tries not to stare at the sheen on the skin at Yibo’s collarbone.

After a moment, he closes his eyes so he won’t stare, and hears Yibo whisper, “You listen to my pulse.”

Yibo has moved closer in that span of a moment, so it takes a second for the words to penetrate the haze around his head.

His eyes open wide.

“Don’t tell me it never struck you.” Yibo asks.

He feels like a fool as he shakes his head.

“You’re not Lan Wangji.” he feels the need to find his voice and point out.

“Oh, I know.” Yibo nods. “No one is Lan Wangji. For all intents and purposes, Lan Wangji may very well be a feverish dream conjured up by a delirious Wei Wuxian flickering between darkness and light, between this world and the next. This physically and morally superlative man inaccessible to the rest of the world, but endlessly loyal to Wei Wuxian. It’s the stuff of fantasies. Or hallucinations.”

He tilts his head as he looks at Yibo. As if seeing him genuinely for the first time. In some sense, Yibo seems to understand the characters better than he, their creator.

“The only thing real about Lan Wangji is this one little tidbit. His face is still impassive even when his heart is hyperventilating.”

He breathes.

Yibo continues, “You do it to me when I’m smirking or being overconfident and you want to know what I really feel like.”

Then he reaches out and takes Xiao Zhan’s hand to put it against his neck.

The pulse there is fluttering.

Hyperventilating.

They stare at each other all the while Yibo holds his fingers there.

Xiao Zhan can hear his blood rushing through his veins, its percussion loud in his ears, as he tries to fight the arousal strumming to life in the pit of his belly.

It startles him enough that he pulls his hand out of Yibo’s hold.

And without saying anything else, he sidesteps Yibo and walks out of the bathroom.

xxxxxx

Chapter Text

The French toast slices that have accumulated from all his efforts of the morning are now sitting on the counter, neatly stacked and uneaten, one slice missing a bit of its edge the only indication that someone had once shown an interest.

He no longer feels like eating. He manages to make some coffee, which he drinks slowly in the living room, sitting on Yibo’s recliner. He leaves the larger couch for Yibo in the event he wishes to lie down.

Yibo had gone into the bedroom after the bathroom and has yet to come out.

He wonders if Yibo will leave once he comes out. He wonders if he should text their friends to reschedule to another date and time. Let them know that Yibo needs more rest to recoup before he is up for a visit.

He stews in that back and forth for a while before he realizes that this is the sort of thing he hates. The sort of thing that relationships have that he does not want to have. At least with Yibo. This sort of nagging worry and loss of appetite at the slightest whiff of a conflict. And then it’s moping around, feeling on edge and antsy. He is ready to feel that with other people – some other imaginary nameless person out there can do that to him – but he doesn’t want Yibo to hurt him that way. Part of him thinks that if he felt that sort of way with Yibo, it would just do him in. He had barely gotten through the ten days of their fighting as friends. If Yibo didn’t speak to him for ten days after… it did not even bear thinking of. It’s like he intuitively knew he would suffer more. Yibo may suffer in the moment too, just like he said, but for Yibo, life always continued. Nothing was something that could not be moved on from. There was really no way of getting permanently stuck. Yibo flowed through or around; that was just the way he was built. It was something to admire in him really. He was a creature who lived fully in the moment.

Xiao Zhan didn’t know how to live like that. He has seen, read, and lived enough to know that people like Yibo, their brand of attention, is a powerful aphrodisiac to whoever comes across it. When all that charm and attention is turned onto you, it's impossible not to melt into a puddle. He feels a bit like Olaf discovering summer.

Great, now he is comparing his emotional valence to great Disney sides. And nothing drastic has even happened. He could project this out a little farther and see the sorry state of his being if Yibo well and truly broke his heart at the end of this. He would barely survive.

He thinks of getting another cup of coffee and is about to get up when he hears Yibo come out from the bedroom. He is saved from directly acknowledging Yibo when his phone rings.

He expects it to be Mrs. Wang or his own mother or one of their friends asking about the plans for the evening. They’re all going to bring some drink or dish, but he will end up making the bulk of it. He is glad that he hadn’t started on it yet. In the event Yibo is thinking of leaving.

He looks down at the phone and sees that it’s Yizhou. It’s an unexpected relief. Yibo passes by the living room just as he picks up the call. He doesn’t look in Yibo’s direction but walks towards the windows at the other end instead.

He tries to focus on Yizhou’s voice and is mostly – almost mostly – successful. Yizhou has a soothing baritone. Steady. Grounding. He asks about Yibo, which Xiao Zhan answers in some broad sweep. Yizhou says that Ji Li had asked if he wanted to come along to the apartment tonight for the evening get-together and he didn’t want to say ‘yes’ without checking in with him directly.
He is glad that at least Yizhou thought to check in with him whereas Ji Li had simply volunteered an invitation in his stead.

He looks to the side - Yibo is still in the kitchen – before he says, “Yes, sure, the more, the merrier. I don’t mind.” He is frankly a little amazed that Yizhou has no qualms about joining the get-together of a group of friends who have essentially known each other all their life. That’s a tough crowd to break into.

After they hang up, he calls Ji Li. Who insists he had only passingly made the offer to Yizhou, who had evidently ignored the subtext and accepted it graciously.

“You must have made a good impression.” Ji Li says.

“How?” he asks before lowering his voice to whisper, “Our short acquaintance was watching a catastrophic event unfold in front of our eyes. Any impression I made, I’m sure, washed away after that.”

“How is he by the way?” Ji Li asks now, serious for once.

“He is bruised all over, but you know him, recovers faster than anyone we know.”

“True.” Ji Li says. He offers to bring some sticky pastries from the bakery next to him for the evening.

“Bring something Yibo likes instead.” he moves even closer the window and says in a low voice.

“What does he like?” Ji Li asks in return. “Other than vinegar.”

“Nothing too sweet.”

“Hmm…. You’re much easier to please than him. Why don’t you make what he likes? And I’ll bring what you like.”

Yibo is not that picky with food. He just knew what he liked. “How about some dumplings then? From that place we go to?”

That’s acceptable and Ji Li agrees before hanging up.

He looks towards the kitchen and wonders what Yibo is still doing there.

When he walks in, Yibo is standing at the counter, scrolling through the texts on his phone, eating the French toast.

He stands there watching him for a moment and Yibo looks over.

He raises an eyebrow.

“It seemed a waste to not eat it.”

Yibo is about to turn away but then looks back at him again.

And he realizes he is smiling.

Yibo doesn’t smile back, but stares, and Xiao Zhan purses his lips until he is no longer smiling.

And Yibo turns to look down at his plate.

He is still standing there without moving any further into the space when Yibo asks, pointing at the rest of the French toast. “You want some?”

“I’m good.” he starts to turn away.

“Eat.” Yibo says, stopping him. And then, in a softer voice adds, “Please.”

He sighs softly as he turns to walk back into the kitchen.

Yibo gets a plate out of the cupboard and passes it to him and he gets his maple syrup out. He knows the toast is already too sweet for Yibo without adding the maple syrup and so he doesn’t offer any.

They eat in silence for a moment, although Yibo doesn’t look at his phone anymore.

Xiao Zhan’s phone beeps again and he checks his texts.

“Haikuan wants to know if you want your beer or something heavier?”

“Vodka.” Yibo answers.

“Beer it is then.” he says, texting it in and sending.

Yibo shoots him a look and he raises an eyebrow.

Another short silence ensues, a tension having stolen into the space between them despite their efforts to ignore it.

He wishes it to go away, even if not all parts of it are unpleasant.

“I have to run to the grocery store to get some stuff for tonight. What do you want to eat?” he asks, directing the conversation to something concrete that he actually has control over.

“I was thinking of heading home.” Yibo says then.

It’s immediate, the drop in his chest. He stills his hands entirely, holding his fork and knife against the plate, so that he won’t give himself away.

“Oh.” he eventually murmurs, for lack of anything better to say.

He finally puts the fork and knife down on the plate and looks up at the wall in front of him.

“Okay. That’s fine. Do you want me to text everyone and tell them not to come?”

“I can do it.” Yibo says.

Okay, that’s fine. The inside of his palm hurts and he rubs against it absently. He just has to hold it together until Yibo leaves. Which he hopes is soon.

“Okay.” he nods. He forces himself to pick up the fork and knife and start eating again even though it feels heavy and bland against his tongue and he has to talk himself into swallowing.

After two bites, he can’t really pretend anymore.

“I have some work to do, if you don’t mind locking the door behind you when you leave.”

Yibo doesn’t answer.

He doesn’t care as he walks out of the kitchen.

“Xiao Zhan.” Yibo calls after a moment.

He takes a careful breath and turns back around. “I told you what would happen. So there. I think it’s starting. Now that that’s been accomplished, go back to your life, Yibo. And live how you did before. And don’t call me for a while.”

xxxxxxxxxx

Chapter Text

He goes into his room and closes the door and locks it before turning the music on. He wishes he could take a sleeping pill or something and pass out so that his mind could be convinced away from listening for sounds of Yibo leaving. About 20 minutes go by before he thinks he hears the door closing. He waits another five minutes before turning the music down. When he listens, there are no sounds that he can hear. And still he waits.

He does eventually emerge from the bedroom and, sure enough, by then Yibo’s gone. For a moment, he stands in the middle of his living room fighting a sense of disbelief and despair. But it’s only for a moment. He won’t allow himself that sort of thing. The only distraction that would work is checking the response to his novel. And so he does.

He is pleasantly surprised that the comments are coming in sixty or seventy at a time now. It absorbs his attention enough that he stays on it through lunch. He is feeling sleepy by the late afternoon and happily succumbs to it, right on his desk. He wakes up to a knock on his door and notices that it’s already early evening. He is drooling a little and wipes it off when he hears the knock again.

For some reason, he intuitively knows it’s not Yibo even though the thought passes through his head briefly. He walks to the door and peers through the peephole and sees Yizhou.

His eyes widen and he looks at his wristwatch and notices that it’s almost 6:30 pm. Had Ji Li not texted Yizhou that the party was cancelled?

He quickly runs his hands through his hair and checks his face in the hallway mirror to make sure there is no telltale evidence of his recent slumber. Not his best look, but it could be worse. Besides, he just needs to look presentable to not offend the company, not anything else.

He opens the door.

“Hey…” Yizhou says. “Whew. I was starting to think that I got the wrong apartment.”

He tries to not let his surprise show as he opens the door wider to let Yizhou in.

He leads Yizhou to the living room and directs him to the sofa there before he says, “I’m sorry, Yizhou. Ji Li clearly forgot to text you. But the party has been cancelled. Yibo doesn’t feel up to it yet. And given that that was the main reason for the party, you know…”

Yizhou looks crestfallen and Xiao Zhan feels bad. “You’re welcome to stay for a bit though.” he says more out of politeness than anything else, only afterwards realizing how that may come across.

“I mean, no pressure. I…” he is thinking of how to back away from the whole thing now when Yizhou interrupts.

“Do you have plans for the evening?”

Well, yes in fact, he is going to work some more to distract himself, likely unsuccessfully, mope around a bit, and then go to bed.

“Not really. My original plan involved cooking a few things for the party. And now that that’s not happening, you know…”

“I didn’t eat dinner. We could cook together.” Yizhou says.

He is surprised. Cooking together is… it’s an intimate sort of thing. At least for him. But it really didn’t have to be.

Besides, he really didn’t enjoy moping. He thinks given the chance, his head would really run with the moping.

And so he says, “I haven’t even gotten any groceries.”

“You want to go together?” Yizhou asks easily.

He is taken aback, but finds himself nodding. The guy came with a personal reference from one of his oldest friends, so likely not a serial killer. That is pretty much the only requirement he needs for company tonight.

He leaves the remote with Yizhou and moves to take a quick shower. He gets dressed just as quickly, choosing a pair of jeans and a black t-shirt simply because they happened to be at the top of the rest of the clothes in his dresser. At the last minute, he notices the hickey on his neck and for a brief moment thinks of cancelling the whole thing. Then he gets over it and slaps a flesh colored band-aid to cover it.

It’s evident that Yizhou is familiar with the kitchen as they walk through the local farmer’s market picking out the ingredients for a light meal of salmon and grilled vegetables. Yizhou is easy to talk to, and when there are silences, they are natural than awkward. When they get back to his apartment, Yizhou asks if he could handle the salmon and Xiao Zhan gladly turns over the task. He gets a salad ready, which requires little effort as Yizhou also grills some asparagus in the same pan as the salmon. It’s a novelty for him to be cooked for rather than to cook for and he hangs back after dressing the salad to simply watch. Several moments later, Yizhou looks up and catches him staring at the pan and smiles. It’s the sort of smile that makes him ease back against the counter some more.

His beverage choices are beer and wine and Yizhou chooses the latter, asking him to pick a suitable white for their meal. He is not much of a wine connoisseur, so he picks a random one out of the ones he has in stock, all bought from the local wine store solely basely on price point.

By the time he turns back with the wine glasses, Yizhou is plating their meal.

Xiao Zhan picks up one of the plates, and only then thinks to mention, “Um… I don’t really have a dining area, I either eat standing at this counter or in the living room.”

“Want me to build you a table?”

“What?” he asks, not sure he heard correctly.

Yizhou smiles as he picks up the other plate. “I’m quite handy. Building a table is not that hard.”

“You’re not real, right?” he asks before he thinks to stop himself.

“Oh, very much. Maybe just a bit too smitten to hold myself back and hoping that I’m not totally scaring you off.”

“Smitten?” he asks, feeling self-conscious for the first time. He is literally in a pair of jeans that has seen much better days and a monochrome t-shirt that he’s sure came in a pack of two.

“Oh, come on, Xiao Zhan. You must get hit on all the time. Even to convince Ji Li to introduce me to you took six months.”

“What?” he asks, tilting his plate a little by accident, although Yizhou tilts it back upright easily.

“Yea, I guess he didn’t tell you. I had wondered if he did.”

“He did what?” he asks, now remembering to make his legs move into the living room.

“That he runs a tough game. It was not easy to convince him that I was worthy.”

“Worthy?” he feels like he is in some sort of weird echo chamber.

Yizhou looks back at him and smiles, taking the plate from him now to put in on the table because he is still standing there holding it without sitting down.

He finally manages to take a seat and is glad when Yizhou sits next to him rather than on the recliner.

“You don’t remember me at all, do you?”

He looks at Yizhou once more, narrowing his eyes, as he says, “I’m pretty sure we’ve never met. You’re not the sort of person someone forgets.”

This makes Yizhou smile a sort of eye-crinkle smile as he says, “Hmm… I guess you must have been distracted then.”

He tries to recall, but without success, and Yizhou takes pity on him soon enough and says, “About six months ago, when I opened up the location next to Ji Li’s apartment, he had his friends come over to the gym for the opening. You came with the group, although I think you spent most of your time watching one of your friends at some gaming competition.”

Ah yes. He remembers now. Yibo had gone to Brazil for a tournament that week and the day of the opening had been the day of Yibo’s final. He had spent most of the time there glued to his phone watching Yibo and his team eek out a second place.

“Oh, I was terribly rude.”

“Yea.” Yizhou agrees, smiling again. “But cute too.”

He flushes at the compliment. Yizhou’s brand of flirting is straightforward. But in a non-threatening sort of way. He thinks there might be some charm to it.

It takes a moment for the rest of the implication of what he said to filter in.

“Wait, you’ve been asking Ji Li since then to introduce us?”

Yizhou nods, cutting into his fish.

“What were his objections?”

Yizhou looks up, looking a bit more serious now.

“What?” he asks at Yizhou’s expression.

“Hmm…. he… he just wasn’t sure that you were… let’s say emotionally available… for… dating anyone.”

“What?” he asks, putting his fork down, feeling a cooling in the pit of his belly.

“No no, sorry, I think that came out wrong. He meant well, you know. He was just letting me know to save me some heartache in the long run.”

“What do you mean?”

“I think I’m messing up this whole topic. I’m sorry. He thinks the world of you. Thinks you’re the most loyal and caring person he knows. Not to mention, the prettiest.”

Xiao Zhan narrows his eyes at the last part. “Okay, maybe I added the last part.” Yizhou smiles. “But the fact remains, you are one of his most favorite people in the world.”

Yizhou stops there.

Xiao Zhan waits without pushing.

Yizhou seems to search for the right words before he speaks again. “He thinks that you have a best friend who takes up a lot of your time. He sort of thought of it as a setup for disappointment for me. You know, to try to compete with someone else for your attention from the get go.”

“Oh wow.” he whispers, looking down at his plate. His appetite is a thing of the past.

“No no, it didn’t have any other sort of implication. He just thinks of you as the best kind of friend. Someone who really goes out of their way and gives it their all. Which is why your friends adore you so much. He was just worried that it might be hard to break into the sort of a circle to try to claim at least some of your attention to myself.”

He fiddles with his fork and after a moment, Yizhou moves his plate away and reaches over to put his fingers over his. “I’ve made you upset. Likely ruined the evening too?”

He looks up to catch the expression on Yizhou’s face. There is uncertainty there. And maybe a tinge of sadness too, like someone who wished he could turn back time to a half hour ago.

And something about that mix pulls at him.

Because in the next moment, he is reaching over to press his lips against Yizhou’s.

Yizhou is surprised at first, and just when Xiao Zhan is about to pull back, Yizhou pulls him forward, opening his mouth to take his in fully.

He is surprised at the almost instantaneous pooling of heat in his belly.

Maybe he’s just been horny for months without realizing it. The last few weeks may have been just a sequelae of that. If he had properly taken care of his dating life, other parts of his life – and other relationships – would not have to be confused.

The kiss deepens within minutes and when Yizhou pulls him onto his lap, he goes willingly.

Yizhou’s lips drag down his neck the next moment, his arms around his waist bringing him in closer.

“Fuck…” He hears Yizhou whisper after a moment, pausing at his collar bone.

“What?” he asks, pausing, his fingers stopping at the back of Yizhou’s neck.

“I… I don’t want to come on too strong and scare you off.”

The way he is perched on Yizhou’s lap puts him in the position to look down into Yizhou’s face and there is now an endearing combination there, of yearning and control.

“I want to.” he whispers, his fingers climbing the rest of the way into Yizhou’s hair.

“Are you sure?”

He nods. Even so, he is surprised when Yizhou stands up, lifting him effortlessly, wrapping his legs around him.

Xiao Zhan laughs a little as he adjusts his hold.

“You have the prettiest smile, you know that?” Yizhou asks.

“You’re a sweet-talker, aren’t you?” he asks as Yizhou starts walking in the direction of the bedroom.

Yizhou pauses. “Are you kidding me? I saw you for the first time smiling at a phone and fell for you. I hardly think it’s sweet talk. Maybe a little corny, but… honest.”

Xiao Zhan stops smiling now and holds Yizhou’s eyes for a moment before leaning down to kiss him again.

That’s Yizhou’s cue to move again, this time with no further interruptions.

xxxxxxxxxx

Chapter Text

This…

There is a sigh emerging from the deepest recesses of his belly and he can feel it travel unhurriedly up the length of his torso and up his chest to his throat until… there is tugging at the tip of his earlobe… and out his lips…

He feels it everywhere simultaneously.

His fingers trace over the hardness beneath him… and it’s hard indeed… and he wonders why he hadn’t done this in so many years.

You’re like a dream.  He murmurs in his head, although when Yizhou’s lips pause below his ear, he thinks that the murmur may have escaped through his mouth.

Yizhou smiles against his neck and his arms around him squeezes tighter, pulling him in fully against that chest.  And it’s hard.  Yizhou is hard everywhere.  He did a little boxing on the side, he had said.  With a body like this, Xiao Zhan could only assume “a little” was a serious endeavor. 

“I’m glad I pass muster.”  Yizhou’s deep voice says next to his ear and it tickles, making him giggle a little.  

“Pass muster…” he whispers, smiling.  “That’s the understatement of the century.” 

That makes Yizhou move up to face him again, looming from above, his face everything that is desire.

It makes him sigh again as he reaches up to pull Yizhou down into another kiss. 

There is no inch of his face, neck, or any sliver of skin revealed that Yizhou hasn’t run his lips over already.  There are bite marks on his waist and his back.   They’ve both been hard for ages, although Yizhou doesn’t seem to be in any hurry to take off either of their pants.  Which makes him adore him even more as he pulls him down more fully now to deepen the kiss.  Yizhou’s body is hot.  literally… the sort of hard heat that is the stuff of x-rated fantasies.  And he kisses like he has all the time in the world.  Gentle and urgent, teasing and pulling, tugging and wanting. 

He thinks he can literally feel his muscles pulsate with the need to have Yizhou inside him.  And the bulge in those pants is so thick and long and insistent as it grinds against him that he feels a little crazy.  In the most delicious sort of way.  He has never known desire to be so… mellifluous.  He smiles to himself as that word flits through his head.  Yizhou pauses against his lips and then pulls back up to look at him. 

“You’re so beautiful, you’re definitely going to break my heart.”

He feels a little drunk as he looks up at Yizhou.  He thinks that maybe he has dreamed and fantasized about Lan Wanji so often that some God had taken it upon themselves to personally deliver him his own buff, modern, handy, sweetly addictive version.

“You could break mine.”  he says languorously, closing his eyes and pulling Yizhou back to him.  His solid warmth is so good that he can’t bear to be away from it.  Especially now that he knows what it feels like to be pressed against him.

“Liar.”  Yizhou murmurs in his ears, although it’s teasing.

“You don’t think my heart can be broken?”  he asks, lifting his hips a little when Yizhou’s cock presses against his own.

“Oh, it can.  Just not by me.”  Yizhou whispers, growling a bit at the end when Xiao Zhan presses more urgently.

By then, the words are forgotten as an urgency takes over and Xiao Zhan’s eyes close as he gasps when Yizhou bites into his neck. 

At some point, the rubbing is just not enough.

He reaches down to pull open Yizhou’s jeans and hears an expletive when his hand finally finds what it seeks.  Yizhou drops his head into the crook of his neck and he makes a sweet little moan when he grips the hard length.

“You’re… so big.” he whispers after a moment.

“Sweetheart, I’ve been hard for so long that I’m going to come right now if you touch me like that.”

He thinks maybe there is a sex God somewhere in the heavens who has taken human form and appeared in front of him.  Maybe taken pity on him for the last few years of inaction and come to him as the most gentle, sweet, well-endowed gorgeous man in flesh.  What had Yibo said, Lan Wangji was the stuff of fantasies… a hallucination.  Maybe this is one of those.  His late afternoon hallucination from which he has not yet woken up.

He wishes now he had kept up with some bottom training for exactly such Earth-shattering moments in life.  Because Lord knows, there is no way Yizhou will fit. 

He had lube for jerking off.  But it’s been ages since he went further than that.  Ages since he even tried to put a finger inside.   

It didn’t matter though. 

“Come inside me.”  he whispers.

“Fuck…” Yizhou grunts as his dick literally pulsates at his request.  “Not today.”  he adds after a moment.

Xiao Zhan’s hand stills.  “Why not?”

There is a long beat before Yizhou answers him, lifting his head finally with a teasing grin.  “Gotta give you a reason to want to see me again.”

It takes him a moment, but then he can feel himself break into that wide silly smile of his, although Yizhou seems charmed by it, dropping a kiss next to lips just then.

“You gave me that when you offered to build me a table.”

“Yea, but now it has to be solid wood and sturdy enough so that I can take you on it.”

If he could get wet, he knows he would be drowning by now.

He closes his eyes as his brain fills in an image.

“From the front or the back?” he whispers.

“Both.  And then in the kitchen.  With just an apron on.”

His hand pauses in its stroking as his head falls back and he thinks he can come from the images alone.

“While you make me French toast?”  he asks.

“Mmm…” Yizhou murmurs.  “With sticky maple syrup that I can lick off your finger.”

“Fuck…” he whispers, his hand falling limply as he feels overwhelmed by need.

“Can I touch you baby?”  he hears the question in his ear and nods, he thinks.

A moment later, Yizhou kisses him again, his tongue sweeping in gently, just as he unzips his jeans to finally give him some relief.  He starts pulling gently, his hand and tongue finding a rhythm that serves madness to his mouth and his leaking cock.

He comes before long, the hours of foreplay finally exploding in a shower of firework behind his eyelids.

                                                                                  xxxx

The next morning, he is in the shower when he hears the doorbell ring.

He hears Yizhou outside the bathroom door asking whether he should check. 

He says ‘yes’ before he thinks otherwise, the afterglow of the night definitely having muted all of his functioning brain cells. 

He shuts off the shower and is about to call him back when he hears the door open. 

He can hear talking and hurries to put on his clothes, jumping on one foot when his jeans leg gets stuck. 

By the time he opens the bathroom door, he hears the front door close again.   

He walks out into the hallway and finds Yibo standing inside the door, with Yizhou right next to him.

“Hey…” he says, his eyes widening in surprise. 

He looks to Yizhou helplessly, who seems to read some of the strain in the air and says, “I have to get going anyways.  I’ll call you later.” 

He nods, unable to speak now.

Yizhou looks at Yibo again, gives a slight smile as if to ease the tension that’s coming off of Yibo in waves, and says, “Good to see that you’re okay.”

Yibo nods the barest of acknowledgment and moves aside to open the door, catching Yizhou by surprise.  He recovers quickly enough and gives one last wave in Xiao Zhan’s direction before leaving.

“Don’t…” he starts just as Yibo almost slams the door.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?”  he asks, shaking his head.

“Me?  Me??” Yibo asks, turning around, with something like fire in his eyes.

He ignores it and walks in the direction of the kitchen.  He will not let anyone destroy his afterglow.  He thinks it could keep him going for ages.  And now that Yibo is back, Lord knows when he’ll have the chance again for any other afterglows.

“I think you were born to prevent me from having sex.”  he says, opening the fridge to take out the carton of eggs.

“You had sex?”  Yibo’s voice goes up a bit at the end.

“No, we chastely sat around and discussed the ancient classics until a half hour ago, at which point, I thought that it would be a good idea to excuse myself and take a shower.”

“You had sex?”  Yibo asks again, pulling the carton of eggs from his hand.

“You’re going to break it.”  he warns, but Yibo is careful enough as he sets it down on the counter and turns to him.

“Did you have sex?”  he asks again.

“Yes.”  he answers forthrightly.  Something about all of last night had unwound all the bullshit in his brain.  He knew how to handle Yibo now, no matter how needy he got and how selfish he became in his quest to own all that was Xiao Zhan.  Not even because he necessarily wants it, but because he thinks it’s already his.  And no one could have what he had determined was already his.

“Well, aren’t we easy?”  Yibo asks, meanly enough.

“I am.  I am extremely easy.  I couldn’t wait to get my hands on him.  He turns me on to no fucking end.  How about that?  You wanted to know about my sex life?  Well there it is.  That is what turns me on.  Like you can’t even imagine.”

Yibo glares at him, although there is nothing like hurt in his eyes.  He looks pissed instead. 

That’s what he had thought.  And he’s glad to be proven right.  Glad that he had not lost his head.  Yibo just looks like someone used his toy without asking him.  And he really didn’t like to share.

And then Yibo says, “Bullshit, I know you wouldn’t.  You wouldn’t do that.”

It didn’t occur to him that Yibo simply would not believe him.

“What do you mean?”  he asks.

“You’re full of shit.  There’s no way you would do something with him that you wouldn’t do with me.”

For a moment, he stares. 

“What?”  Yibo asks.

“I’m not your toy, Yibo.  Just because you discovered yesterday that you want to try destroying our relationship with whatever this bullshit is, I’m not going to just let you do it.  The ten months I lived longer than you weren’t entirely wasted, you know.”

Yibo pffts.  “You don’t even have any memories without me.”

“I have plenty.” 

“Name one.  And do not give me some bullshit about last night.  I just won’t believe it.”

“What the fuck kind of a question is that?  I don’t spend every waking moment with you.  I have many memories without you.”

“Yea, but you forget all of them.  The only ones that stay with you are the ones with me in it.”

He thinks his eyes will fall out of their socket at the audacity. 

“You don’t even remember meeting him when you definitely met him six months ago.”  Yibo says then and for a moment he forgets the blistering comeback that he had been preparing in his head.

“Who told you?  You talked to Ji Li?”  he asks.

“Fuck, yes!  that bastard.  Wait till I see him.”

“What did you say to him?” he asks again.

“What do you mean what did I say to him?  He’s the one who said a lot of shit to me.  About how I need to give you some space.  That there’s someone genuinely sweet and good who is head over heels for you and all that bullshit.”

He closes his eyes and inhales.  Then exhales.

This boy was legit throwing a five-year old’s temper tantrum.  At age twenty-fucking-four!

“There is someone genuinely sweet and good that I like.  That I want to try to date.  Even if it’s going to end badly, I want to try.”

“Why?”

“Yibo…” he starts, at his wit’s end.

“Okay fine.”  Yibo relents.

“Okay fine?” he asks.  He was getting whiplash from all the back and forth.

“Okay fine, get this out of your system.  Because whether you like it or not, I’m the endgame.”

His jaw drops open.

“You’re so ridiculous.”  he says finally, for an utter lack of anything else to say.

There is a moment’s pause when Yibo closes his eyes and rubs the back of his neck.  And then he opens them and says, “I know.”

The ready capitulation is unexpected and he pauses in whatever he had been about to say.

“I think I’m going a little crazy, to be honest.  I had always wondered why I didn’t feel this kind of thing that so many others seemed to feel so naturally like all the freakin’ time.  It was frankly a little annoying to watch.  All the moping around and all the jealous bullshit.  If someone didn’t like you, just let them go.  There will always be others.”  Yibo pauses, seems like he is winding down, but when he speaks, he is actually even more riled up.  “But I’m stewing in it now.  Like the real kind of jealousy.  Not the shit that I joke with you about.  Because I literally want to tear his head off.  Physically.  I can’t even handle it.”

“Yibo…” he calls, his voice soft.

“Stop! don’t do that.  Otherwise, I’ll do some shit like kiss you.  And then you’ll really hate me.”

He waits a moment, but then says, truthfully.  “I will.”

Yibo looks up in surprise.

“You will?” he sounds a little helpless and lost.

“Yes.”  he answers.  “For the past few weeks, Yibo, since I came out to you and everything that happened after that, I’ve been feeling…” he tries to think of the right word, but then gives up, and just goes for whatever he feels.  “I have been feeling suffocated.  You can easily bend me to your will in almost everything.  And for the most part, I’m happy to, I indulge you because I love you and I enjoy giving you what you want.  But this other part of me what you want to take, that just seems like stealing something I don’t want to give up.  If you take that part of me too, I will be entirely powerless in our relationship.  And I’ll start to hate you for it.  Especially if you make me fall in love with you.”

Yibo seems to absorb that for a long moment and then his eyes are wounded when he asks, “Would it be that terrible to be in love with me?” 

He fights against the need to remove that hurt from Yibo eyes as he says, “My instinct always seems to be to think of you first. Sometimes at the expense of me.”

The awareness of what he is saying seems to descend on Yibo slowly and then it’s not just hurt, but pain. 

He steels himself against it, against his need to want to erase it, fix it.

“Let me give you all those parts of me that you enjoy the most and leave a little something just for me.”

Yibo watches him for a long moment, his eyes glistening now.  And then asks, “Ji Li is right, isn’t he?” 

He tilts his head.

“I’ve always just taken you for granted.”

At this one, he smiles.  “No more than how I take you for granted.”

Yibo doesn’t seem to believe it and closes his eyes once more.

“So, what now?”  he asks.

Xiao Zhan waits until Yibo opens his eyes to answer.  “Whatever you want.”

“No.”  Yibo says immediately, almost in frustration.  “Not what I want.  Tell me what you want.”

“I want us to go back to how we used to be.   Even if it’s going to be difficult.” 

Yibo seems to take that in and then nods.  “Okay, I’ll try.  If I push my boundaries, just push me back.  Put me in my place.”  he requests, his tone earnest.  “Because if you don’t do that, I’ll always take more than you want to give.”

That seems an inevitability.  Yet he nods.

                                                                                xxxxxxx

Chapter Text

Things are awkward for a bit after that.

He thinks Yibo is half expecting him to break up with Yizhou.  He can’t blame him.  He thinks of doing it.  Because it’s hard in the beginning to manage both.  Keeping Yizhou and keeping Yibo.  As if he recognizes it, Yizhou is the one who brings it up one day a few months later. 

It was one of those days when Yibo had called for this reason or that and for nothing at all on the one day of the week that Yibo knew he would be with Yizhou.  After attending to the eighth time Yibo calls, his nerves feel frayed and the apartment feels too small with Yizhou in the living room.  He retreats to the kitchen in the guise of making tea and stares off into space, watching the water boil.  He only notices that it’s almost all evaporated when Yizhou turns off the stove from behind him. 

He sighs and looks back to murmur, “Sorry.”

“Why don’t you have him over the next time I’m here?”  Yizhou asks. 

He widens his eyes in surprise. 

Yizhou smiles.  “He’s like a wolf, trying to mark his territory.”

“More like a puppy yipping at your heels.”  He remarks.

Yizhou smiles, likely at the mental image, but raises an eyebrow teasingly and says, “You know that ain’t no puppy.”

He doesn’t acknowledge that, but says instead, “This is just new to him, is all.”

“So, was dating Zanilia just a front?” 

“No, that was real.  He’s straight, you know.”  he says, looking up now, in the event that that bit of information had somehow been lost in the subtext.

Yizhou laughs. 

“What?”  he asks, not laughing.

“Maybe he’s straight for others.  But for you, he’s definitely gay.”

To hear another member of his coven say it out loud seems surreal.  And slightly terrifying.

“That’s not a thing.”  is what he says instead.

“Says who?”  Yizhou asks.

He doesn’t answer.

“Ji Li had warned me that there is solid forcefield named Wang Yibo that is pretty immutable around you.  Repelling everything that even tries to get close to you.  He had tried to dissuade me from even attempting.”

He raises an eyebrow at this.  “Ji Li is prone to exaggeration at times.”

“He is.”  Yizhou agrees with a smile.  “But in this case, he’s onto something.”

“Yibo doesn’t repel anything that I don’t allow him to.”  he says.

There’s a more serious cast to his face now when Yizhou concurs with, “I know.”

As if realizing only then what his words implied, Xiao Zhan pulls his lower lip into his teeth.  Explaining more could only make things worse.

“I can’t give you up yet.”  Yizhou says, watching that little gnawing motion.  “And if push came to shove, you wouldn’t think twice.”

“It’s not like that…” he starts, but Yizhou shakes his head.  “Oh baby, let’s not be this much in denial.  Wang Yibo vs. anyone… hell, everyone.  It’s not even a level playing field where you’re concerned.”

He swallows.  This mirror is too clear to look away from.   Especially because of who is holding it up to his face.

“The easiest way to lose you would be to try to assert any sort of dominance over him.  So, I won’t even try.”

“But I like you.  So much.”  he says.

This makes Yizhou smile and he moves closer to grab Xiao Zhan around the waist to bring him closer.  “When the nocturnal activities are so good, what’s not to like?”

“Oh come on, I like you for more than… that.”  he moves to refill the pan with water and puts it back on the stove, Yizhou turning it back on before hugging him from behind.

“Yes, you like my table too.”  There is amusement in his voice and they both look to the corner of the living room where there is now a walnut table gleaming with new polish.

“And I like your cooking too.”  he says, which makes Yizhou drop a kiss against his neck.

“Especially if I feed you breakfast in bed.”  Another kiss right below the previous one.

“Hmm…” his eyes fall closed.

“And you like my heat on cold nights.”

“Hmmm…”  this one is a sigh.   That part was really the best.

Yizhou lifts his hand and kisses the inside of his palm.  “I really like this.  What we have.”  he murmurs.

“I do too.”  He answers, swaying into the feeling of being so openly adored.

“I want to keep it.  For as long as I can.”

“Hmm…” his eyes had drifted close at the comfort and warmth and the words now sound sort of far away.

“And for that, I have to deal with your gamer/dancer/racer.”

Xiao Zhan’s eyes open, those words pulling him out of the momentary lull that he had fallen into.

“He… he can be a lot.”  he warns, looking up at Yizhou in profile. 

“You mean, he is going to try to be as possessive as possible, to show off that he can be that way, and that you won’t stop him?”

It’s like having water thrown on his face and he turns around immediately in Yizhou’s hold, shaking his head.

“Let’s not do that.  Keeping things parallel and separate is the best.  When they intersect is when things get complicated.”

Yizhou doesn’t let go of him when he asks, “How will I ever be important to you if I don’t meet Wang Yibo?”

                                                                                    xxxxx

As if to make up for his lack of access to most of Xiao Zhan’s Saturdays, Yibo drops by at least three times during the week, sometimes more.  Their friend group do their regular get-togethers on Sundays, still mostly at Xiao Zhan’s apartment, although occasionally at one of the other’s places too, Yibo’s house being a favorite because Mrs. Wang always cooks for them like there is a feast. 

He doesn’t invite Yizhou to these Sunday dinners, not yet at least.  Besides, Yibo is there and he is still not ready for that.  

They all know though and there is the occasional ribbing he gets for not showing off his gorgeous boyfriend, because unlike him, the rest of them distinctly remember meeting Yizhou during the gym’s opening night. 

Their friends – with the exception of Ji Li – are also in the dark about the new undercurrents between him and Yibo and, thus, don’t think twice of teasing Yibo about how he is going to deal with not having Xiao Zhan all to himself.

“I don’t need him all the time.”  Yibo says.

“Bullshit.”  Yubin says, laughing.  “He’s like your battery.  You hardly function if he’s not around.”

Xiao Zhan sees Ji Li shoot him a look at this comment.  He glances away.

“Yes, Yizhou better have an enormous dick and an even more solid ego to handle dealing with this needy asshole.”  Haikuan pokes Yibo in the back as he says it.  Yibo makes a face at him.

Xiao Zhan can feel his face flush.  “Can we not discuss people who are not here?  It’s rude.” 

Haikuan and Yubin just laugh, while Ziyi asks, “Speaking of people who are not here, what happened to your girlfriend, dude?  The cute one with the deaf Dalmatian?” 

Ji Li is the one who answers.  “They broke up like two months ago.  Where have you been?”

“Jeez.  Why am I just hearing of it now?”  Ziyi looks at Xuan Lu.  “Did you know?”

Xuan Lu nods.

“Bitch, why didn’t you tell me?’

Xuan Lu just laughs.  “Come on, it’s Yibo.  Since when is he actually going to entertain a serious relationship? I’m surprised it lasted two months.”

“Two months?  How the hell is that a relationship?  Yibo has had a more serious commitment with his Nike bag.”

This sends them both into peals of laughter as they pull up a picture on their phone of Yibo’s Nike backpack that has seen far better days, but he refused to part with.

“Y’all are mad rude.”  Yibo says, kicking Ziyi’s foot with his own.

“Why?  Don’t hate on the truth.” Ziyi says, kicking him back, pulling the lollipop out of her mouth as she did so. 

“Give me a sucker.”  he asks and pulls her pocketbook up to him to look inside.  She always carries those tiny ones that came in a like a pack of 100.  There is always one in her mouth too and Yibo liked to pick on her for her oral fixation.  To which she responded with, “You do too, sucker.  Who knows?  You might be great at sucking dick and not even know.”

“Who knows, I might be.  Never had any complaints from licking pussies.”  was his answer.  That was the basic Yibo-Ziyi dynamic.  Nothing was taboo.  And eternally a source of amusement for the rest of them.

“What truth?”  he asks now, grabbing a green one and pulling off the wrapper, and then stuffing the wrapper back into Ziyi’s bag, making Ziyi kick him again.

“The truth?” Ziyi says, putting the pop back into her mouth and sucking on it dramatically while pretending to think.   She looks at Xuan Lu and raises an eyebrow and tilts her head.

“Alright, yea, I got this.”  Xuan Lu answers.  “You’re the OG of commitments.  One and done dude.  One group of friends, one BFF, one bag, one bike.  It’s like all your attachments were made at first sight.  And that’s it.  No one else can even try to get in.  You will run with that for the rest of your life.  You’ll indulge other things – casually – but that’s about it.”

Xiao Zhan looks up from where he is setting up the food on the new walnut table.  This is how the table will be christened, with dinner with this group that he has known all his life. 

Yibo looks his way and their gazes meet.   Yibo’s eyes are raw for a moment and then shuttered the next and he looks back at Xuan Lu and shrugs.  “Seems pretty fucking accurate.  If I already have the best, why search for anything else?”

“Aww….”  Xuan Lu smiles, pulling Yibo down onto her lap; she is older than him by two years but he dwarfs her by at least six inches now, although this habit of pulling Yibo down onto her lap had never really phased out.  Yibo lays back against her fully and she giggles.

Xiao Zhan looks away, and notices that Ji Li is staring in his direction.   He holds his gaze for a moment before returning to the food.  And Ji Li comes over to help.   

                                                                                 xxxxxxxx

Chapter Text

And then it was the day. 

A Saturday morning at his apartment. 

He had asked Yibo to come early.  Before 7.

Surprisingly Yibo had not resisted, even though he is not an early riser, especially on a Saturday morning. 

Yibo gets to his place that morning at 6:30, carrying a paper bag of Jojo’s sweet buns.

He smiles as he takes the bag of buns, looking inside and finding two of them.

“You’re going to have it too?  I was going to make you eggs and sausage.”

“Really?”  Yibo asks now, smiling.

“I always make you breakfast.”  he reminds with a tilt of his head, walking into the kitchen.

“That was before what’s his name took over Saturday mornings.  Where is he anyway?  Still sleeping?”

“He’s coming later.”

Yibo pauses.  “You had me over first.  Why?  Are you going to ask me to be on good behavior?” 

He smiles as he gets his cast iron pan for the sausage.  “Are you?”

“Hmm… By good behavior, do you mean…” Yibo peters off while Xiao Zhan is focused on laying the sausages in a row into the pan. 

He feels Yibo’s arms come around his waist from behind and is startled enough that he holds his breath.  

For all that Yibo still came over all the time, he had stopped touching him indiscriminately like he used to.  This is the first time in… a long while now.  Since that conversation right in this kitchen when Yibo had asked him to push back when he refused to abide by the boundaries.

“None of this stuff?”  Yibo asks, although his voice has lost its teasing edge from before and is an octave lower now.

He is frozen in place, his hand still on top of the pan and it takes his index finger accidentally touching the hot iron for him to unfreeze.

“Fuck.”  Yibo says, pulling that finger into his mouth.

He can feel the throbbing already, although he can also feel the wet heat of Yibo’s mouth, which makes him go still again.

It seems to take Yibo a moment to realize what he is doing and he pulls the finger out of his mouth.

“Sorry.” he whispers, removing his arms from around Xiao Zhan’s waist too.

He finally releases the breath that he is holding in and closes his eyes.

There is silence for several tense moments and then Yibo says,  “Things are never going to go back to how they used to be, huh?”

It’s awful to hear that. And to prove that that’s not true, he turns around to put his arms around Yibo.  Yibo doesn’t react for a moment, surprised, but then his arms come back around Xiao Zhan’s waist to pull him in closer for the hug.  Except this is not like any of their hugs from before.  And when he finally realizes the folly of what he had done, Yibo backs him up against the window ledge, pulling him in tight and burying his face into his neck.

And he realizes once again what is wrong with this picture from all of the previous ones. Yibo had always initiated the hugs, not the other way around. He touched Yibo in other ways, but never by pulling him into a hug.  That was something Yibo did. 

“Fuck, I missed you.” Yibo whispers into his neck.

Rather than push Yibo away, he holds him like that, trying not to think.  Thinking is not going to bring any good thoughts.  

He holds his breath again until he realizes that Yibo’s just holding him, there is no movement to do anything else.   And finally he eases into it, pulling Yibo in closer.

“I missed you too.”  he says back.

He hears the sausage sizzling after a few moments and reaches over – Yibo still in his hold and all – and turns the stove off, before leaning back once more into their spot against the window.

Yibo snuggles in even more now, content to simply hold him, breathing in the scent of his neck.

“Yibo.” he calls after a while.

“Hmm…”

“Have we always been like this?”  he asks, his fingers absently stroking Yibo’s hair at the back.

Yibo’s breath seizes against his neck.  He doesn’t answer.

“I’ve been trying to think of why, all this time, I didn’t tell you.”

Yibo is listening. 

“and if I’m honest with myself, a part of me likely always thought that you knew this about me.”

Yibo is still silent, although now his arms are gentle in their hold.

“and maybe even believed…” he takes another breath to get the next part out because he is not even sure that he has properly allowed himself to acknowledge this before.

“that I liked you this way.”  He finishes.  And closes his eyes.  The words seem to taunt him a bit, now that they’re out there.

There’s a long moment of silence before Yibo lifts his head from his shoulder to look at him.

He tries to hold Yibo’s gaze even though it’s difficult.   Because this is the Yibo that that part of him that had always been hidden was afraid of.  This Yibo with this gaze, who really could accomplish a great deal with just this look.  He can feel it, the fluttering in the pit of his belly.  in his chest.  Hell, everywhere he had any sensory nerves, he could feel it.  It was like being slowly eaten alive.

“What straight guy reacts to the news of his best friend coming out to him by immediately asking whether you had hidden this from me because you were afraid that I’d hit on you?”

As if even he himself is flabbergasted at his own response, Yibo asks, “Who even says that?”

“But it was like years of whatever, however, we were with each other all suddenly made sense.  All in a single moment.”

“Oh come on, don’t write off our whole relationship as just some sort of emotional foreplay.”  he says, although once the words are out, he wonders what that even means.

In Yibo though, those words seem to cause a sort of amazement.

“Emotional foreplay.  I’m capable of years of emotional foreplay.”  he says, gazing off in wonder.

He has to laugh at that and Yibo looks back at him, grinning.

The grin fades a bit as Yibo studies his face. 

“Your smiles have always made me feel some sort of way though.” 

When he tilts his head in question, Yibo adds, “No, nothing corny like I’m smitten or anything, but sometimes when I am upset, I want to see it. Your smile.”

His heart stutters so much at that, it’s almost painful. 

“But then it’s everything else too.  Even if it’s just you getting irritated at me or yelling or pulling on my hair or trying to throw punches, I like it all.  I always thought you sort of enjoyed my brattiness too, because it was my own way of giving you attention.  But I didn’t realize that it came across as me just taking and taking from you without giving anything back.  I sort of thought I gave you pretty much my all.”

Yibo says it so earnestly, he is unable to speak.

Before he can say anything in response, Yibo smiles.  “But I hear from Ji Li that Yizhou is perfect at this. He gives in a way you can understand.   That you like.  I guess I have a lot to learn.  Not even romantically.  But just in general.” 

He thinks his heart’s in his eyes at that moment and he starts to reach for Yibo’s face, when they both hear the doorbell ring.

For a moment, he doesn’t even understand the noise.

But Yibo looks to the hallway and then back in his direction, now pulling back from him fully.  “I promise, I’ll be on my best behavior. I have it on good authority that this guy is superlative.  A modern-day Lan Wangji.”

“What?” he asks, but Yibo has already turned away towards the hallway to go get the door.

                                                                                xxxxxxxxx

Chapter Text

The meeting goes better than expected – well, he had expected the worst, so really the bar had been quite low – but even so, it goes surprisingly well.  Partially because it’s not just the three of them, but Ji Li too, who keeps up a steady enough stream of conversation that any tension simmering continues to stay there and not bubble up and burst through.

But still, by the end of it, the tension has frayed his nerves raw, so he can only imagine how it must have been for Yibo and Yizhou.  As if understanding his need to be alone, Yizhou leaves late in the afternoon when Ji Li leaves, as Ji Li had been the one to give him a ride over.

He starts clearing the table from their lunch and Yibo wordlessly joins.  He washes the dishes while Yibo goes with a kitchen cloth to wipe the table down.  When he comes back, he drops the cloth into the sink and says, “A walnut fucking table.  Even Lan Wangji had enough modesty to not be such a showoff.”

He smiles, relieved.  It would have been worse if Yibo didn’t talk about it.

“Yizhou has nothing in common with Lan Wangji, you know.  He’s friendly, talks a fair amount, uses pronouns properly, runs a business for God’s sake, and is very connected to the rest of humanity.”

“Ah, I see, so he’s only built like Lan Wangji.  What does he have, like a six-pack?”

That gets him to look sideways at Yibo.  “Don’t you have one too?”

Yibo smirks. “Yea, but I’m all lean muscle baby.  Meanwhile that dude’s like a cliched gym ad.”

He shuts off the water and turns in Yibo’s direction, flicking water droplets in his face.  “Have I told you that jealousy looks good on you?”

“I know.  It adds to my charm.”  Yibo smirks wider, pulling on the tail of Xiao Zhan’s shirt to wipe his face.

He is about to make some remark about how his clothes are not a towel when Yibo’s expression changes.  He’s looking under the shirt and Xiao Zhan follows his gaze down curiously.

It takes Yibo running his fingers over the fading mark just above his hipbone for him to realize what Yibo’s looking at.

Yibo looks up and their gazes meet. 

For a long moment, Yibo just looks, and then he lets go of the shirt.

He reaches over to touch the side of Yibo’s neck, where his bite mark from what seems a lifetime ago now is all faded and gone. Yibo flinches a little and then his eyes close. 

“The only one I have ever bitten is you.”  Xiao Zhan says, his touch feather light. 

Yibo stays that way for a moment longer before pulling his hand down.

They are quiet for a beat and then Yibo blurts out, “Okay, we definitely need a game plan so you don’t cheat on him.”

He leans back against the counter and sighs.  “I don’t think I’m any good with relationships.”

“Why?  Because of me?”  Yibo asks, coming to stand next to him.

“Not because of you.  But because of how I am with you.”

Yibo looks at him.

“This morning, before they came over, when we hugged, it didn’t even occur to me that that might be cheating.  I mean, I thought of all the ways things will get complicated because of that hug, but only in the way it changes things between us.  Not once did it cross my mind that it’s also because there’s another person involved.”   He sighs again.  “That’s not fair to him.  That’s not the type of person he should be in a relationship with.”

Yibo leans against him.  “So you won’t date me, but you can’t be in another relationship either.   That sounds fucked up, Xiao Zhan.”

“I am fucked up, Wang Yibo. I thought you knew that.”  he sighs again.

“You know, call me crazy, but as much as I want to hate that guy, he really genuinely adores you.  I think he’s mature enough to understand certain things.”

“Oh, this is not a secret.”  he says with a shake of his head.

“What do you mean?”

 “Wang Yibo vs. Anyone.  Everyone.  It’s not even a level playing field where you’re concerned.”  he says now with air quotes.

“That’s what he said?”  Yibo asks.

He nods.  “Besides, Ji Li had given him fair warning that we are conjoined twins and it will take some effort to have a relationship with just one.”

“Damn!”  he says, shaking his head in amazement.  And a moment later, “How can you love me so fucking much and still hold back?” 

“Habit.  I am used to loving you a certain way.  It’s scary to upset and upend all that in one go.”

Yibo sighs now.  “I don’t claim to understand that in theory, but it’s you, so, I can see that.”

A short silence ensues as he gnaws on his lips.

“You like him, I can see that.  If I’m the distraction that you don’t need, I’ll just…” Yibo pauses and purses his lips before speaking again, “I’ll back off for real.”

Xiao Zhan looks at him in question.

“We don’t have to see each other.  I won’t come over anymore.  I won’t call you so often.  When you come over to my house, if you let me know, I can make sure I’m not there…”

Xiao Zhan straightens away from the counter and walks out of the kitchen before he finishes.

Yibo pulls him back by the hand.  “What?  I’m serious.  I’m not upset.  Look.  Look at me.  I can do it.”

“Well, I can’t.”  he shakes off Yibo’s hand and walks into the living room.

Yibo laughs and hugs him from behind, squeezing so tight that it’s difficult to breathe.  “I’m trying to help you, asshole.”  he whispers.

“I don’t need this brand of help, asshole.”  he returns, pulling Yibo’s arms outwards a little so he can speak.

“Then what are we going to do?”  Yibo asks, putting his chin on Xiao Zhan’s shoulder.

The reply is not immediate, but it comes nevertheless.  “Why don’t you start dating again?”

“Other people?”  Yibo asks, drawing back.

Xiao Zhan nods.

“And you’ll be okay with that?”  Yibo asks.

“I’ve always been, haven’t I?”  he asks, pulling off Yibo’s arms and walking to the couch.

As soon as he sits down, Yibo grabs a cushion and puts in on his lap before sprawling out lengthwise, his head on the cushioned lap.

“Maybe we can just do this.  No sex.  Just this.”

“This?”  Xiao Zhan asks.

“Emotional foreplay.  Forever and ever.”  Yibo winks, looking up at him.

It makes him smile and he smooths back Yibo’s hair. 

“You know, maybe you like me like an older brother who indulges you.  Gives you a lot of affection.  Maybe that’s all it is.”

Yibo closes his eyes and shakes his head.  “We’re back to this shit again.  My feelings for you are definitely not brotherly.”

“How do you know?  You don’t even have a brother.”

“I’ve had lovers.  I’m very familiar with wanting to fuck someone.”

Xiao Zhan’s fingers still in Yibo’s hair.

He can feel Yibo hold his breath.

“Yibo, not to belabor this point ad nauseum, but you have sex with girls.”

Yibo looks up at him.

“It’s not the same.  We are not built the same way.  We’re hard where you expect softness.  We have a noticeable lack of certain things that you get quite a bit of enjoyment out of.  We have hair where you expect none.”

Yibo’s eyes narrow.   “You do know that I am a dude, right?  I’m familiar with our anatomy.  And I’m certainly aware of its differences from the female body.”

“Yes, but you’ve never been attracted to one!” his voice rises at the end and he tugs on Yibo’s hair without thinking.

“Yes.  I have.” Yibo’s tone is offended now.

He rubs his forehead as he says, “I don’t count.”

“Why the fuck not?”

“You love me.  You’re biased.”

“Oh my God! How does that even fucking make sense?”

“It does.  You know it does.”

“I love Haikuan, doesn’t mean I want to fuck him.   Hell, I love Yubin and Ji Li and Xuan Lu and Ziyi too.  Doesn’t mean I want to fuck any of them.”

“Yea, but you love me more than you love them.”

“And that makes me biased because somehow I think that I love you so much that I should fuck you without  being attracted to you?”

He sighs long and deep this time.  “You’re spinning this in a way as if you don’t understand what I mean, but you know exactly what I mean.”

“You’re afraid of opening up to an experience where you think I’m just experimenting.  And if this experiment fails, it will make you lose me and forever scar you.  Do I have it all?”

To hear Yibo say it out loud just like that is so shocking that he almost pushes him off his lap.

He doesn’t though.

What he says instead is, “Go find some other men to have sex with, Yibo.  Come back to me if you decide you like it.  And then we’ll figure out if our attraction and love scales converge in any compatible way.”

Yibo sits up now, pissed.  “Okay nerd.  I will.  I will find some dudes who are willing to experiment.  And while we are on the topic, do you have a preference for a position?  Because I would rather not waste my time experimenting in a position that is not your thing.”

His nostrils flare in anger, but before he can answer, Yibo answers it himself, “Never mind, now that I’ve met Yizhou, you’re definitely a bottom.”

He raises his fist, which Yibo blocks immediately as if he had known it was coming, but he knows Yibo expected it, so he throws his entire weight on top of Yibo, knocking him backwards, holding both his arms down.

“How I’m with Yizhou has nothing to do with how I’m with you.”

For several moments, it’s just the sound of their breathing as they glare at each other. 

And then Yibo smirks and says, “I’ll get a plug, just in case.”

He throws off Yibo’s hands from his, mainly for effect, and gets off of him.  “That’s your cue to go home.”

Yibo still sounds amused as he gets up and asks, “Like go home forever?  Or go home now and come back tomorrow?”

He walks to the kitchen, pretending to not hear.

A few minutes later, Yibo comes up behind him and drops a kiss on his cheek as he says, “I think you mean, see you tomorrow. Cuz how will you live forever without me?”

“Fuck you.”  he says, calmly.

That makes Yibo laugh as he pulls away and leaves, yelling, “Good night.”

                                                                             xxxxxx

He breaks up with Yizhou the next day. 

And all Yizhou says is, “I knew yesterday itself you were going to do this.  Should have let you keep him and me separate.”

He looks at Yizhou with regret, not even attempting to explain in words what makes no sense even to him.

But then he admits, “I’m afraid I’ll cheat on you.”

Yizhou nods.  “I’m afraid you will too.”

He looks at the table.  The table on which nothing other than eating had happened thus far.

“Keep it.”  Yizhou says.  “I built it for you.   Besides, I’ll take some pleasure in knowing that he knows that too.”

He bites down on his lower lip so that he won’t smile.

Yizhou watches him and now sounds amused as he asks, “You love making him jealous, don’t you?”

He smooths his lips into neutral, but doesn’t answer the question.  Instead he says, “To him, you’re the superlative man.   He will forever burn in jealousy.”

Yizhou laughs.  “Silver lining.  I’ll take it.” 

Then the smile disappears and there’s a seriousness to his face as he says, “Call me if you ever get over him.”

He sighs as he answers, “If you can’t get me to get over him, I may just die this way.” 

Yizhou looks away for a moment, a sadness coming over his face.   He blinks it away and looks back, “Well, I can’t say that I wasn’t warned.”

“You’re one of the best things that ever happened to me.” he says truthfully.

Yizhou looks back, his smile now bittersweet.  “And you to me too.”

                                                                               xxxxxx

Chapter Text

“When are you going to tell him?”  Ji Li asks, unpacking the takeout that they had gotten for the Sunday dinner, which is being hosted at Ji Li’s apartment tonight.

He doesn’t really have a good answer to that, so he asks instead, “How is Yizhou doing?”

“Well, he’s okay, I think.  It’s been three months after all.  When I see him at the gym, he’s the same as always.  Friendly, busy, etc. etc.  but you know, maybe a little too busy…”

He closes his eyes and nods before he opens them.

“You’re so stupid, Xiao Zhan.”  Ji Li says after a moment, pausing in what he is doing.

It’s an abrupt outburst and he looks up in surprise.

Ji Li seems taken aback himself, although now that he has said it, he continues, “How can you give him up?  He’s perfect for you.”

“But I’m not perfect for him.”

Ji Li reaches into the bag for another box and shakes his head as he asks, “It’s because of Yibo, isn’t it?”

He doesn’t say anything.  Refuting something so self-evident would be an insult to Ji Li’s common sense.

“I don’t even get it.  What is between you two?  Does he know how you feel about him?  Because if he does, that motherfucker does not make it any easier on you to live your life.  Like maybe back the fuck off.  Jeez.  I hate straight assholes who like to play the tease.”

There is no way to respond to that without delving into things that, frankly, he would like to keep solely between him and Yibo. So instead, he says, “Let’s talk about something else.”

“Hmm. yes. Before I murder his charming ass.  You know, seeing them together that day at your apartment, I really thought Yibo was going to back off.  He seemed to sort of get Yizhou’s appeal, I thought. I mean, who wouldn’t get Yizhou’s appeal?”

Xiao Zhan pauses and looks at Ji Li curiously before answering.  “First of all, breaking up with Yizhou was my decision. Not Yibo’s.  Second of all,” he pauses again and narrows his eyes at Ji Li.  “Are you in love with Yizhou?” 

Ji Li returns his look without saying anything for a moment, but then relents and throws his hands up. “Of course I’m in love with Yizhou.  As are half the dudes and dudettes who know him.  What’s not to love?”

“Ji Li…” he calls, his tone soft.

Ji Li sighs.  “I’ve never envied you though.  I really did think you were perfect for each other.  You’re certainly the only guy I know who deserved him.”

His eyes widen for a moment as he stares.  “You had it this bad and you still set us up?  How masochistic are you?”

“Well, you know, it’s hard to compete when the rival is you.”  Ji Li gives a look that says this much is obvious.

“I wish you had told me.  Actually, I wish I had asked you.  Because I remember thinking that first time I met him and saw what he looked like, how he seemed entirely your type.  Why would you try to set someone else up with him.”

“But then you learned that the boy was a goner from the first moment he saw you.”

He pffts at that.  “It was just an infatuation.  I was likely smiling like an idiot watching Yibo get second place in that Brazil tournament.”

Ji Li exhales with a bellyful of exaggeration.  “Classic.  Mr. Dreamy falls in love with you smiling at a video of your kryptonite.”

He laughs.  “Kryptonite?  Yibo will get a kick out of that.”

“As if he doesn’t know.  Who else can murder you and resurrect you in the same breath other than Yibo?”

He scrunches up the big brown bag that is now empty as he asks, “Ya, if I’m that much of a basket-case for Yibo, why would you set me up with anyone, much less the love of your life?”

Ji Li winks.  “His happiness is my happiness.  Otherwise, how dare I call him the love of my life?”

He pauses in what he is doing, looking at Ji Li, his smile dimming.  “Wow, you really are in love with him, aren’t you?”

“It’s entirely one-sided, I assure you. His lenses are firmly platonic when he looks at me.”

He walks over to pull Ji Li into a hug and Ji Li comes in easily, hugging him back. 

“I’m sorry I was so blind that I didn’t see it before.”  he says, smoothing back Ji Li’s hair.

“And I’m sorry that I underestimated the power of Wang Yibo.  That brat always gets his way.”  Ji Li says, laughing.

“Only because I let him.” 

“Why?”  Ji Li asks, pulling back.

They study each other before Xiao Zhan asks, seriously, “Don’t you know?” 

Ji Li holds his gaze.  And then shakes his head.  “Well, hell, at least I’m in love with a gay guy.”

Xiao Zhan laughs and lets him go.  “Now, let’s get this all ready before the entire crew shows up.”

                                                                           xxxxxxxxx

“I would like to make the formal announcement that I am starting to date guys too.”  Yibo says in the middle of dinner.

His eyes widen as he tries to catch Yibo’s eyes, although Yibo is most certainly avoiding his gaze, but looking at everyone else.

He sees Ji Li looking at him, his eyes as big as saucers.

“What the fuck?”  Ziyi asks, putting her chopsticks down.

“For real?”  Haikuan asks while Yubin pipes in with, “Why, have you run out of girls to date?”

Xiao Zhan sees Xuan Lu look in his direction.  He looks at her and raises an eyebrow.  She tilts her head and looks back at Yibo.

“Why?”  Ji Li asks.

“What do you mean why?  Why not?”  Yibo asks, picking up his chopsticks again casually as if he had not dropped a bomb.

“Dude, are you even attracted to dudes?”  Ji Li asks.

“Well, we’re about to find out.”  Yibo answers, biting into a crunchy cucumber.

“Oh my God.”  for all the exclamation of that phrase, Ziyi’s tone is flat, her eyebrow raised.

Yibo looks at her, an eyebrow raised himself.

“You’re finally admitting you’re curious about sucking dick, aren’t you?  All them pops you’ve been sucking on all this time got to you. And now you want to know…”

“Stop it.”  Xuan Lu laughs, hitting Ziyi’s leg.

“This bitch is about to move in on my territory…” Ziyi says.

“And mine.”  Ji Li cuts in.

Ziyi nods in acknowledgment.  “As if he is lacking in ass, now he gotta double dip.  You’re one greedy motherfucker.”

“Ass. That’s the magical word, isn’t it?  Imma have to see how much I like ass.” Yibo zeroes in, ignoring everything else, nodding thoughtfully. 

“Are you for real right now?”  Haikuan asks, throwing a peanut at Yibo’s head.

“Yea, man.  I’m serious.  In the interest of exhausting all of life’s sexual mysteries, I’ve been thinking “Why haven’t I dated men?  That seems a grievous oversight.  To completely deprive an entire segment of the population from some good ol’ Yibo lovin’.   You get my drift?”

“I volunteer myself.”  Yubin jumps in.

Xiao Zhan looks at Yubin in surprise.  So does Xuan Lu.

“God, you too?”  Haikuan asks, looking sideways at Yubin.  “What the fuck?  Did y’all drink some gay Kool-aid and not tell me?”

“You can jump in too, that way we’ll hit two birds with one stone.”  Yubin replies.

“What two birds?” 

Yubin pffts, waving at Haikuan.  “Gay sex and a threesome.  Do keep up, grandpa.”

“Way too many dicks.”  Xuan Lu interjects.

“Said no one ever.”  Ziyi counters.

That unintentionally makes him laugh and they all turn in his direction.

“What, you’re not going to volunteer?”  Xuan Lu asks.

He sees Yibo sneak a look at him and pretends not to see it.

“I’m not about to deflower gay virgins.  Too much responsibility.  You’re in solid hands between Haikuan and Yubin.” he answers, watching Yibo’s gaze narrow at him from the corner of his eye.

“Oh please.  Xiao Zhan is getting spectacular sex on the regular from his gorgeous boyfriend.  He’s not volunteering for jack, gay virgins or not.”  Ziyi offers.

Ji Li shoots him a look, which he pretends not to see.

He knows he should tell the group that he and Yizhou are over.  And have been for several months.  But he is not sure that he is ready to tell Yibo yet.  He thinks it’s only thing that keeps Yibo on the other side of the line drawn between them.  As soon as he learns that he and Yizhou are over, he doubts that Yibo will hold back. 

He doesn’t intend to keep his silence forever, just until Yibo is fully back in the dating game.  He has to admit though, he is surprised at this announcement.  He had thought that eventually Yibo would get bored with how things were and start dating again – girls that is – he hadn’t really thought that Yibo would seriously consider dating men.  Although now that it’s come to that, he’s relieved, he thinks.  Yibo would arrive at the conclusion that he has no particular interest in dating men soon enough and that would be that. 

“I didn’t volunteer myself.”  Haikuan says now, calling back his attention to dinner.

“No, I did.”  Yubin answers.

“Yea, asshole, I’m good.”

“Well that sucks.  If it’s just two friends messing around, that’s awkward.  When it’s three, it’s company.  You can laugh about it.”

“Yea, I’m good.”  Haikuan says again, making Xuan Lu laugh.

“Yubin’s just curious about climbing you, Haikuan.  He has no interest in Yibo.”  Ziyi offers helpfully.

“Oh gee, thanks.”  Yubin shoots her a look. 

“What?’  Don’t be a prude.  I’m just saying, it’s natural to be a bit curious.  I mean, I have occasionally thought about fucking all of you, including this lovely lass over here.”  She nudges Xuan Lu with her foot.

“Oh wow thanks.  I’m honored.”  Xuan Lu bows.

“You should be.  I rock in bed.  Especially with women.”

“Wait, you’ve slept with women?”  asks Ji Li, his surprise at this news – gossip he didn’t know, a rarity in his life - trumping his surprise at Yibo’s bomb.

“Well, woman, singular.  And more like making out.”

“Making out?  What does that mean? I mean, how far…”  Haikuan asks.

“Second base.”  Xuan Lu offers, helpfully.

“Dude, do you even have sex?” Yibo asks, turning in Haikuan’s direction. 

“Wait, you got to second base with a girl?”  Yubin asks Ziyi.

“Why? Are you getting a mental picture?”  Ziyi asks and it’s Haikun who blushes while Yubin nods thoughtfully. 

“Ya! this is killing my appetite.”  Ji Li yells.

“What’s with you?”  Yubin asks.

“I have literally taken two bites of my Dan Dan noodles before I’m assaulted by naked mental pictures of the lot of you.  I could do without, thank you.”

And so it goes, all night. 

When it’s time to wrap up, he stays behind to help Ji Li as the rest of them call it a night.

“What was that about?”  Ji Li asks later, when it’s just the two of them. 

“What was what about?”  he returns.

“Yibo’s bi-curious all of a sudden?”

“He is a curious monkey.”  he nods, busying himself with washing the dishes.

“You don’t want to try?” 

“Try what?”  he asks, keeping his back to Ji Li.

“Deflowering Wang Yibo.”

“Hell no.”  he says, turning the water on even more. 

Why the hell had he not seen this trap when he stayed behind to help clean up.

“Wait, let me get this straight.  Y’all been attached at the hips since he crawled out of his mother’s womb. You fuck up all your relationships because God forbid it cuts into your time with him.  And you finally admit you’re in love with him.  What’s with the “hell no!””

“If those boundaries are so easily crossed between friends just because of curiosity, why haven’t we jumped on each other yet?”  he asks, turning back in profile.

“Listen, until Yizhou appeared on the horizon, I have definitely entertained occasional fantasies about boning you.”

“What the fuck!”  He says, turning around now.  “Is it a full moon or something?  What’s with everyone trying to fuck each other?  Throuples and pentagons, and boobs and dicks and ass.  I think I’m going to have indigestion.”  He knocks on his chest for effect before turning back around.

There is silence for a minute and when he looks back, Ji Li has a smirk on his face.

“Aww… are you afraid you won’t be any good for him?”

“You know what?”  he says, taking off the kitchen gloves.  “I’m done here.  You can finish up the rest.”

Ji Li laughs and catches his arm when he passes by.  His tone is amused but soft when he asks, “You don’t want to get railed by him?”

“He likes having sex with women, Ji Li.  This is like a phase.  You know he’s always wanting to try new things.”

Ji Li pauses, then nods.  “Fair enough.” 

He nods too, glad that he has someone validating his position.

A moment later, Ji Li laughs.  “This boy knows nothing of picking up men.  We should take him places, scope out the crop, get the hoes out of his way.  You know, protect his pretty behind.”

He smiles and tilts his head, ready to make some sarcastic remark.  But then the actual thought of Yibo soliciting guys to have sex emerges in his head and it gives him pause.  “We should.”  he says seriously. 

Ji Li looks up in surprise, but then nods in agreement.

                                                                         xxxxxxxxxx

Chapter Text

“I’m a grown-ass man.  I can pick up dudes on my own.  For real.”  Yibo says for what seems like the tenth time, raising his head off of Xuan Lu’s lap. 

“You know nothing about picking up dudes.”  Ji Li says from the kitchen where he is preparing enough alcoholic varieties to get everyone sufficiently sloshed in what he is calling Pregaming for Yibo’s Gay Expedition.

“Yo, what’s the difference from picking up like-minded girls?  You give someone the eye, they return it, and you dance a little to see if you got any body chemistry, and boom, you’re off.”

He tries to not roll his eyes at this description as he pulls the appetizers out of the oven.

“You’re so pretty, you’re like catnip for the gays.”  Ji Li calls out.

“Oh please, if they can handle Xiao Zhan, they should have no problem with me.”

“Yea, but Xiao Zhan knows how to say no, unlike you.”

“Says who?  I turn down people on the regular.  Especially recently.”  Yibo says, shaking his head, while still snuggling into Xuan Lu’s fingers stroking through his hair.

The implication is not lost on him as he passes the pigs-in-a-blanket to Haikuan to take to distribute in the living room.

“Damn, what the fuck is in this?  This shit is strong!”  Yubin says, taking a sip of the neon green liquid out of a martini glass.

“Ya! that’s not yours!  That’s Yibo’s drink.”  Ji Li says and Yibo perks up, sitting up now and looking into the kitchen. 

“Wait, did you really make a green apple martini for me?”  he asks, coming over.  Xiao Zhan sneaks a glance and sees the glee on Yibo face as he hugs Ji Li from the back.  “You do love me.”  he says.

“Definitely not.”  Ji Li says, although he takes the martini glass from Yubin’s hand to cover its rim with salt and to stick a toothpick with an olive in it before handing it over to Yibo.

“Fancy.”  Yibo says, sipping it for taste.   “Damn, this shit is good.”  his grin is wide before he smacks a kiss on Ji Li’s cheek.

Ji Li sighs and looks in Xiao Zhan’s direction.  “I told you.  This is like effortless shit for him.  Someone will take him seriously and kidnap him.”

“Bitch, I’m a grown man…”  Yibo starts.

“Yea, we heard.”  Ziyi and Ji Li says at the same time.

That just makes Yibo smile as he moves to stand against the counter watching Ji Li put the final touches on some pineapple concoction that he passes to Yubin. 

“Ooh.”  Yubin is satisfied and takes the chips and salsa to the living room.

Xiao Zhan takes a glass of wine for himself and one for Xuan Lu.

“Where’s my Baileys?”  Ziyi comes back to ask.

“Patience lady. I only have two hands.  Give this to Haikuan first.”  Ji Li says, sending Ziyi back.

“So where are we going anyways?”  Yibo asks, putting his drink down and starting on the Baileys for Ziyi.

“Shalimar.”  Ji Li says.

Xiao Zhan looks up.  That was an almost exclusive club where famous people frequented.  There was no way for regular folks to get in there.  And he says as much.

“Don’t worry.  Yizhou knows the owner.  We got a VIP booth.”

He sees Yibo’s gaze change for a moment, the playful look on his face disappearing.  “Wait, he’s going to be there?”  he asks.

Ji Li shakes his head and Xiao Zhan sits back in relief.  He sees Xuan Lu shoot him a look, which he deflects by giving her a wine salute, clinking their glasses together.

“Nah, he just has an in, which he is happy to let us use to get in.”

“Is it a nice place?”  Yibo asks curiously.

“Nice??” Ji Li exclaims as if the mere word is a synonym for understatement.

“This will be far superior to any hetero establishments you’ve been to.”

“Don’t oversell it!  Now I’m going to have some grand-ass expectations.”

“Don’t worry baby.  We’re not going to let you down.”  Ji Li says, picking up his own drink and raising it, to which Yibo raises Ziyi’s finished drink.

He grins and takes a sip of the Bayleys and whistles.  “Here you go Z.  Just how you like it.”

Ziyi walks over for the drink while Yibo turns back to Ji Li.  “You speaking now for all the gays?”

“Indeed.” Ji Li replies without missing a beat.  “Gotta show you how we get down.”

Ziyi gives Yibo a back hug as she takes a sip of her drink.  “Ooh.  Okay.  Yea.”  she nods.

She looks at Ji Li and puts on an affected sigh as she says, “Keep an eye on me, ok?  You know I’m irresistible to lesbians.”

Ji Li scoffs while Yibo grins and clinks her glass with his own. 

“Don’t worry, the gays will definitely leave you alone.”  Ji Li answers, smirking.

Ziyi laughs and looks at Yibo.  “You ready for a ride on the wild side, baby boy?”   

“Stop hyping up this place.  Now I’m starting to get overexcited.’’ Yubin yells out from the living room.

Xiao Zhan feels a pleasant buzz from the wine and sits back.

Within twenty minutes, they are getting ready to leave, but Ji Li pulls him into his bedroom when he comes out of the bathroom.

“What?” he asks in surprise.

“You’re not wearing that.”  Ji Li is looking with distaste at his beige sweater.

“What’s wrong with it?”  he asks, following Ji Li’s gaze down.

“Just trust me.”  Ji Li walks to his closet and pulls out a shopping bag.   Out of it comes a burgundy button-down that has a slight metallic sheen when the light hits it.  “I bought this for Haikuan’s birthday next week.  I’ll just get him another one.   Wear it.  You guys are about the same size.”

“That’s not even my style.”

“Yea, style is hardly your style.  So, I’m kindly offering my services.  You’re about to sit down for the night and watch your boy over there effortlessly work an entire crowd into a frenzy.  No matter how cool you’re going to play it, it’s going to sting.”

He stares at Ji Li.  Until Ji Li raises an eyebrow.

“That’s going to ease the sting?”

“No, it’s going to make your eyes pop and show off your tiny waist.”

“I don’t want…” Xiao Zhan starts.

“I know.  I know you don’t want.”  Ji Li says, turning serious for once. 

He doesn’t say anything further as he takes the shirt.

                                                                            xxxxxxxx

The place is swanky, he has to admit, as they are shown to their booth, which is an enormous curved leather couch that they all squeeze into.  The music is in full-force, some heavy and catchy beat that he doesn’t recognize.

Yibo is seated right next to him on one edge of the couch. 

“Where did you get this shirt?”  Yibo asks.

“Ji Li gave it to me.  Why?”

Yibo shakes his head and looks away.    He has on just a plain black t-shirt and ripped fitted jeans.  That, and his floppy hair, and cute grin.  He looks like a million bucks. 

Xiao Zhan can already foresee that Yibo’s mission will be a success.

Ji Li is on the other side of Yibo and now leans over.  “You let me know who you like.  And I’ll vet them, alright?”  he says seriously.

Yibo’s grin changes a bit as he looks at Ji Li.  “Why are you taking this so seriously?  You know I can watch out for myself.  What do you think is going to happen?”

Ji Li watches him for a moment, shoots a quick glance at Xian Zhan, and then looks back at Yibo.  “I don’t know why you’re doing this.  You have never shown any interest in dating men before.  I don’t know what’s changed.  But if you’re genuinely interested, then I won’t take this lightly.  No matter how you like to play off certain things, this sort of thing is not casual. Especially because you have no experience.”

Yibo tilts his head, seriously.  A moment later, a grin cracks his expression and he bumps his arm into Ji Li’s. “Well, I appreciate it.”

“Meh.”  Ji Li says, turning away, although now he too grins.

They all get a round of drinks and settle in.  The place has a good crowd, but it’s not packed, and for that Xiao Zhan’s thankful.

The music is clearly Yibo’s jam and he can feel the pulsing of all different parts of Yibo’s body as he moves in place to the beat of the music.

“Why don’t you go dance?  Take Ziyi, Ji Li, and Yubin with you.” he asks, nudging him.

The dance floor has a sizable number of people, just enough to be able to still move comfortably.

“Yea, let’s go.”  Ji Li pushes Yibo and Xiao Zhan moves out of the seat to get out of their way.

Before they get out of the booth though, there is a commotion on the dance floor and they see the crowd part as people move off to either side to let in what looks like a small army of guys.

“What the fuck!” Ji Li exclaims.

“Is that…?” Yubin starts.

“Goddamn NCT-127!”  Ziyi finishes.

“Who?” he asks, turning to Haikuan, who shrugs.  “Evidently an army.”

“Are they doing joint promotions here with WayV?”  Xuan Lu asks.

“Must be.  How fucking hot are they though?”  Ziyi answers.

“Do you know who they are?”  Xiao Zhan nudges Yibo to ask.

Before Yibo can reply, the music changes, and Ji Li exclaims, “Of course, that’s why they’ve been playing their music for the past three songs.  I was wondering at the back to back.”

The guys move across the dance floor, seemingly in random at first, although the beat of the music cues a shift in how they stand and then he can see the formation.

“What the hell?  How are that many of them in sync?”  he asks, mystified.

“All 23.”  Ji Li says.

“23?  Are you serious?  What sort of group has 23 members?”

“23 visuals…”  Ziyi’s voice has gone dreamy.

He could see that now.  They were a good-looking group.  He can hear Ji Li identifying them by name, as they move forward, “There’s Yuta, seriously, what a looker!  And Jaehyun with his dimples.  And Win-Win, one of China’s own, and Lucas from Hong Kong, and Johnny from the US, and Ten, from Thailand...” 

The guy Ji Li called Ten is looking in their direction and there is a quick smile, definitely aimed at Yibo.

“Did Ten just smile at Yibo?”  Xuan Lu asks, pulling on Ziyi’s shoulder.

“I don’t know, did he? what the fuck, how did I miss it?”  Ziyi replies, looking back in alarm.  “I was distracted trying to find… where is he, where is he?”  she says, her eyes darting back and forth.

As if in answer, the moving overhead spotlight shines directly into the crowd and…

“Lee fucking Taeyong.”  Ji Li says, his voice an open hymn of exultation.

“God-tier visual of all of fucking Asia.”  Ziyi joins in.

Now he can hear the hook of the song because it’s distinct.  The voice is distinct too. 

“I’m the biggest hit, I’m the biggest hit, on this stage…”  The God-tier visual is singing along with the audio feed as he slowly moves up to the front of the group.

That’s a bold claim, Xiao Zhan thinks.

“Damn!”  Haikuan exclaims, pushing his arms in between Yibo and Yubin for a closer look. “I never thought to see the day.  There’s someone better looking than Yibo?”

“Right?”  Ji Li asks, eyes still glazed over.

“Hardly.”  Xiao Zhan mutters. 

But then he watches as Taeyong’s eyes land on their group, zeroing in right on Yibo. 

                                                                      ----------------

Because Taeyong is a chameleon, here is this chapter's version:

Chapter Text

The God-dude has the most intense stare he has ever seen in anyone and it’s entirely trained on Yibo right now.

After a moment, God-dude raises an eyebrow.  He looks at Yibo and sees that Yibo is looking back as if he understands whatever that had been about. 

Not only he, but the rest of the group, are looking back and forth between God-dude and Yibo, mystified. 

“Wtf, do you know Taeyong???”   Ziyi asks.

Yibo doesn’t seem to hear the question as he tilts his head at God-dude and moves forward. 

“What the fuck is happening?”  Haikuan asks, leaning forward.

“Wait wait wait!”  Ji Li exclaims…

Xuan Lu is the one who yells out, “He’s gonna do it.  The move!  The Move!”

The crowd around the boys seems to know what’s about to happen as they all sing along with, “Nananana…”

“Oh shit.”  Ziyi is in awe. 

He leans forward along with Haikuan and watches as God-dude is standing one moment and then literally floats like a wave backwards until he is on the ground on his back. 

That couldn’t even be humanly possible.

Except, Yibo has done the same as well, at the same time.

They both sit up from the move at the same time, God-dude lifting an eyebrow now with a smile. 

He looks down at Yibo from his vantage point and sees the smirk.

This boy and his smirk.  He is going to rearrange it when they get home. 

If God-dude didn’t take him home first.  Well, kpop idols couldn’t do that.  He reminds himself.  They have security.  They couldn’t just kidnap gorgeous boys out of clubs just because said gorgeous boys knew how to do impressive anatomy-defying moves and had smirks that begged to be bitten and chewed off.

He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath as he feels hot under the collar.  The overhead spot lights feel like strobe lights. 

When he opens his eyes, he sees the God-dude beckon Yibo to him with his fingers extended.

“What is he doing?  Cheesy martial arts flick moves? what the fuck is that?”  his question is loud enough that Haikuan turns to him with a grin.

“How stupidly good-looking is he though?  Like legit, not a human.”  Haikuan adds when he turns back to look.

Yibo seems to have accepted the cheesy move happily as the boy is now only about ten feet away from God-dude, dancing the entire rest of the routine. 

“I thought Yibo was a purist when it came to kpop routines.  You know, super junior shinee, exo.   What’s this mess?”  he asks.

Ji Li and Ziyi turn to him in shock.  “NCT is next generation, ok?”  Ziyi says.  “Like their name literally stands for Neo Culture Technology.”

“What the fuck does that even mean?”  he asks.

The dance appears to have ended by then and he sees God-dude and Yibo do the bro-handshake.

“For real though, do they know each other?”  Haikuan asks.

“He definitely doesn’t.”  Xiao Zhan answers.  Which he hopes is true and something that he, as the formal and informal authority on everything related to Yibo, would know.   There is no way Yibo knew a dude like that and failed to mention it.

“Maybe it’s like a dancer thing?  They meet each other for the first time and it’s like, “Well, hello there, double-jointed friend, I see you.  You wanna try this crazy move with me that will kill your back?””  Ziyi offers, helpfully.

“Yibo is not double-jointed.”  he answers.

“I know.”  Ziyi rolls her eyes.  “Damn, you have no sense of humor when it comes to Yibo.” 

The comment is said in passing, but it surprises him enough that he sits back.

Not true at all.  He has humor aplenty when it comes to Yibo.

He looks to the front and thinks that Yibo will come back now that the impromptu dance number is over, but evidently, they just take the meet-and-greet as permission to launch into another one. 

“Ooh, Kick it!!!  I love this one!”  Xuan Lu says, beating her hands on the table in excitement.

“Et tu, Brute?”  he asks, looking at her in horror.

“What?” she asks, smiling at him.  “I may not stan as hard as these two, but they are really good, okay?” 

“Taeyong is the king of Swag.  Like the dude could just stand still and the Swag would be in the lines of his entire body.”  Ji Li adds in. 

The Stanning just seems nauseating at this point.  To him, at least.

“How are we going to help Yibo pick out some potentials if he spends his whole time here doing dance-offs with show-offs?”  he asks.

Yubin turns to him with round eyes.  “What do you mean?  The boy done scored a kpop idol at first try.  What is he going to do with mere mortals now?”

This takes him aback.  “Okay, let’s be real though.”

“It’s not like Yibo wants to marry a dude.  Hell, he just wants a hookup.  And you know, heterosexual relationships are basically banned for idols.  So, this is it.  Maybe they’re all here, cuz they want a lil something something too…”  Ziyi winks.  “If you ask me, this the ideal situation.  I mean, look at them.  One of them is enough, but two of them… fucking blinding.  I would pay good money to see them make out.” 

That makes him laugh.  Not in humor.

“What?  It could happen.”  Yubin says.

“Bullshit.  You know how protective those guys are of each other.  There is no way Doyoung is going to let some random dude make out with Taeyong.”  Ji Li interjects, the voice of reason. 

He has no idea who Doyoung is, but he is glad he exists.

“Doyoung?  Please, if anyone is going to stop them, it’s going to Jaehyun or Ten.”   Ziyi counters.

“Jaeyhun or Ten?  Where you been, sis?  That’s old news.  DoTae nation all the way.  They got matching Cartier rings.  They even want to go to the nursing home together in their old age.  Now that’s commitment.”  That’s Ji Li.  Evidently, he knowledge of the rumor mill is not just restricted to friends, but celebrities as well.

“It’s all fan-service.  It’s kpop, after all.”

“None of this shit even matters because Yibo is not going to do anything.”  He says.

Ji Li looks at him then, an eyebrow raised.  “How you know?”  he asks.

He doesn’t answer as he stares straight ahead at the Golden Boys.  Ziyi is right.  Looking at them together really is blinding.

“How you know?”  Ji Li asks again. 

He shrugs, but doesn’t look at Ji Li.

And then it occurs to him that at no point during this entire exercise from beginning to now has he believed that Yibo would follow through on any of this. 

And it makes him wonder if he is delusional, has some sort of blinding trust in Yibo’s affections for him, or just misguided.  And of course, he has to acknowledge the obvious.  A hypocrite. 

                                                                               xxxxx

Chapter Text

When Yibo does come back to the table, he brings Taeyong, Johnny, Doyoung, Ten, and WinWin with him. 

Ziyi almost falls out of the booth as they approach. 

“Dude, I fucking love Yibo.  What a blessed child this mo-fo is, for real.  Like who decides to start being gay just for the heck of it and lands a literal God?  Who?  Who I ask?”  She says dramatically.

There is no space at the booth for all of them, and Ji Li asks them all to take one end while the NCT boys take the other.  Taeyong and Yibo stand in the center, deciding not to sit.

He notices that Yibo purposely avoids his gaze.  Not once thus far has he looked in this direction.  

Fine.  That’s fine. 

None of them are versed in Korean, but the boys know enough Mandarin to have a basic conversation.  And WinWin is fluent enough in Korean and Mandarin to handle the occasional translation. 

“I’ve seen your videos on Douyin.”  Taeyong says to Yibo.

Such bull.  What idol sits around at home watching random hot Chinese dudes on Douyin?  He tries not to roll his eyes. 

So, yes, it’s true.  Yibo has amassed quite the following on Douyin.  Hell, he should know, he is the one who records most of them and he is certainly around for all of them.  They were all made in his apartment. 

“Really?” Yubin asks, his eyes wide. 

“You’re so hot.”  Ziyi says, as if the rest of the conversation is all white noise.

“Oh, thank you.” Taeyong says politely.  “So are you.”

Her smile is blinding.  And she’s blushing. 

Man, he must have a PR team that preps him every morning on how to gain new fans in every country.  You would think the looks are enough, but no, SM gotta be greedy.

“That bit you did on Versace on the floor.  It was really good.”  Taeyong returns to Yibo, picking up right where they left off.

“Eh?  The one where he grabs his junk?”  Yubin blurts out.  Haikuan elbows him.

Johnny laughs.  “That takes some major cojones to post that.  We all loved it.”

“Well, if you’re hung like him…”  Yubin starts again, earning another elbow from Haikuan.

“Ow ya!  These are cool peeps.  They don’t care.”  Yubin says before turning back to the boys with a smile.  

They laugh, amused more than anything.

At this point, he tries to mentally check out of the conversation, but doesn’t when Taeyong laughs, but in an awkward nervous sort of way. 

That’s interesting.

The conversation continues, Yibo doing his charming bit, which people could take as flirty or not depending on how they want to see it.  He is always so low-key about it, so it’s hard to take offense.  And very easy to take delight in. 

It takes a bit for him to realize that Taeyong seems entirely oblivious to it.  Ten is the one who is more openly flirtatious, generously complimenting Yibo on his dancing.  He gathers from the rest of their reaction that Ten is almost as good as Taemin at dancing, so this effusion could most certainly be admiration for a fellow gifted dancer.  But he knows better.  The boy is definitely flirting.  Yibo flirts back a bit. But Yibo’s attention returns to Taeyong time and again.  He can see the appeal.  Taeyong doesn’t seem anything like the dude who just yelled out to the world that he is the biggest hit on the stage.  He is… somewhat shy.  It takes him still a while to notice - although why it takes him that long, he doesn’t know - but even though one is standing and the other is sitting, the one named Doyoung is the one who gets much of Taeyong’s attention.  Not in an obvious way.  But more like little unconscious gestures.  Like there is a glass of water right next to Taeyong’s hand and Doyoung automatically moves it out of the way without even seeming to think of it.  When someone almost bumps into Taeyong from behind, his hand automatically reaches for Doyoung to steady himself.  Even though it would be much easier to grab the table right in front of him.  That sort of thing.  He watches the two of them more closely and a while later, his gaze turns to Yibo.  And now he catches Yibo looking back.

You’re barking up the wrong tree, boy.  He tilts his head and raises an eyebrow.

Yibo’s gaze is unsmiling when he returns his stare.  It seems to say I know what I’m doing.

Suit yourself.  He stares back before turning in the direction of the boys and now sees that Doyoung is staring at him.

“You’re with him in the Douyins?”  he asks in his accented Mandarin.

He is surprised.  He is there in a lot of the videos, but only his voice.  Never his face.

He looks at Yibo and sees Yibo’s surprised gaze swing to Doyoung.

“How did you know?” he asks.

“Your voice.”  Doyoung answers as if that made sense.

Like who can distinguish the voice of a random person – in another language, mind you – from random Douyin videos.

Taeyong sees their collective surprise and offers in the way of an explanation, “It’s a gift.  Doyoung is very good at identifying voices.  Sounds in general.”

“That’s uncanny.” he remarks, looking at Doyoung.

Doyoung laughs.  “It’s a little freaky sometimes.  But it has its uses.”

The conversation continues in that fashion for a bit, but soon enough the boys have to leave. 

“I’ll make sure to follow your videos.  Seriously, they’re so creative.  I love checking them out if I need some inspiration.”  Taeyong says as they leave, his fingers unconsciously seeking out Doyoung’s elbow.  Doyoung doesn’t even look back as he reaches back for Taeyong’s hand and pulls him up until Taeyong is in front of him.

When he looks at Yibo, he sees that Yibo is watching the duo too.  When he turns back to the booth, their eyes find each other and this time around, when Yibo takes a seat, he sits at the other end of the booth, away from him, between Lulu and Ziyi. 

He is at this end, and hears Ji Li whisper in his ear, “Is this all some weird game between you two?”

“What do you mean?” he asks.

“I don’t know. I would think he would be happy with everything. But now he just looks down.  If I didn’t know better, I would think he’s just pouting.  But this looks too serious to be pouting.  He genuinely looks… I don’t know.”

He looks at Yibo again as Ji Li talks.  And notices once again that Yibo doesn’t look back at him.  Instead, Yibo orders a shot. 

“Okay, there’s definitely something wrong.  When was the last time he had a tequila shot?  You know he likes to pretend to be boujie when he goes out.  What is this shit?”  Ji Li asks.  And then Ji Li turns to look at him with narrowed eyes, “Did you hurt him?  Is this whole gay thing him rebelling against some passive-aggressive shit you did?”

He tries to not make a sound as he breathes in deep through his nose, because it feels a bit like his lungs are in crisis.

“Well, hell, then get the salt and lime too.  I’ll join you.”  Ziyi says.  Yubin wants in too.  Then the chorus is for the whole table to join in and that’s how they all end up with shots of tequila and the beginning of the rest of the night, Ji Li’s eyes boring down on him from the side and Yibo’s eyes avoiding him from the other. 

                                                                               xxxxxxx

Chapter Text

He thinks he will drink, but then sees Yibo order a second shot and stops himself.  By the time Yibo orders a third shot, the rest of them are too buzzed to notice and he mumurs to Ji Li that he is going to take Yibo home. 

Ji Li nods sympathetically, although he is also smiling.  Ji Li’s emotions and expressions are entirely contradictory when he's drunk.

Yibo resists when he asks him to come, but Ziyi helpfully gets off the edge of the couch to pull Yibo off.

“I don’t want to go with him.”  Yibo says, putting his arms around Lulu’s neck.

Lulu whispers something in Yibo’s ear.

Yibo holds still for a moment, snuggling into Lulu’s neck, but then seems resigned as he turns in the way that Ziyi is pulling him.

“Damn, for a skinny guy, you’re not light.”  Ziyi huffs with the effort of pulling on Yibo and Xiao Zhan takes over, putting Yibo’s arm around his shoulder to help.

Yibo looks at him with hooded eyes and there is an unintentional pout on his mouth as he says, “I hate you, you know…” the words slurred. 

“I know.” he whispers.  He thinks Yibo will fight him, but he is surprisingly malleable as he supports him up.

Yibo walks well enough, but Xiao Zhan is glad when they’re finally in a cab and he doesn’t have to support almost all of Yibo’s weight.

Yibo sleeps in the cab even though it’s a not a long ride back to his apartment.  He is a bit steadier on the way out of the cab and to the elevator, although in the elevator, standing still, he has to hold Yibo’s entire body to him because he is essentially deadweight.

As soon as they get inside the apartment and he closes the door behind him, Yibo throws up all over their clothes and the floor. He is glad at least that there is no carpet in the vicinity.  He has Yibo sit down briefly to clean the floor.  Yibo has fallen asleep against the front door when he returns, but doesn’t resist when he takes him into the bathroom and strips them both down to their boxer-briefs so that the clothes can soak in soapy water. 

Yibo does wake up when the shower hits him, even though he had made sure it’s warm enough to not be uncomfortable.

He’s mad, his nostrils flaring, and tries to get out of the shower.

“There’s vomit all over you.  Come here.” he pulls him back, but Yibo pushes him off to try to get out again. 

This time, he doesn’t try to stop him.  Instead, he looks up into the shower and lets the water wash over him.  And is glad when it washes away the tears too.  

He does a quick shampoo of his hair and when he turns the shower back on to wash it off, his eyes scrunched shut, he feels Yibo’s arms come around his waist from behind.

“I’m sorry.” he hears the whisper.  And unexpectedly, there are more tears that start again.  He shakes them off and doesn’t say anything as he turns around to put shampoo on Yibo’s hair too.

While he is lathering and kneading his fingers in to massage Yibo’s scalp, he sees Yibo close his eyes, leaning into him.  And when the water is back on and he washes his hair clean, he knows that Yibo is crying too, a minute trembling to his lower lip that he tries to hide by pulling in and biting down.

“I love you.”  he whispers, his fingers pausing at the base of Yibo’s neck.

Yibo’s eyes flutter open and they’re red.

“I love you so much.”  he says again, holding Yibo’s gaze, willing him to see fully the sort of love he feels.  To reject it if it turns out to be too much.  Because if he crosses this line, he knows that even if Yibo could go back, he never could.

Yibo’s eyes are limpid in how vulnerable they look. 

Xiao Zhan leans in to touch their lips together.

Yibo’s mouth is hot as it opens against his, his arms going around his waist, clutching with a sort of eager desire that catches him by surprise.

He returns it ten-fold, backing Yibo against the wall, sucking hard on his lower lip. 

He hears Yibo’s gasp and wonders if he has hurt him, but is distracted when feels Yibo’s erection against his hip.

His eyes widen as he looks down, although Yibo is too gone to notice, those lips chasing after his own, bringing them together once more.

He doesn’t even have alcohol to blame when he ravages Yibo in the next moment, biting on his lips until Yibo moans and then dragging his teeth over Yibo’s neck, nipping and sucking everywhere he can get his mouth on.

The noises Yibo makes are a wonder to him and it strikes him that it’s novel to discover something about Yibo that was previously unknown to him.

Yibo’s head is thrown back as he sucks gently on his adam’s apple, the tip of it something that had teased him endlessly since Yibo hit puberty. 

By now, Yibo is rubbing against him so much that he can almost feel his frustration and he reaches into Yibo’s briefs to take his cock in hand.

Yibo's body shudders at first contact and he growls and pulls hard on his hair.

“Is this okay?” he asks in Yibo’s ear, gently, when Yibo finally eases on the hairpulling. 

In answer, Yibo ruts into his hand. 

He almost loses his mind at the motion.

He takes Yibo’s lips again as his hand restarts what it had paused before, now firm and sure. 

Yibo’s breaths come in pants soon and he speeds up the movement of his hand, his other hand slipping inside the back of Yibo’s waistband, smoothing over slope there, settling on the undercurve of his ass.

“Fuck fuck fuck fuck…” Yibo yells as he comes, his entire body jerking so much that Xiao Zhan hugs him close, holding him through the aftershocks.

“Oh my God…” Yibo says afterwards, collapsing against him, and he holds on tight so that Yibo won’t slide down.

                                                                           xxxxxxx

Chapter Text

The timer dings.  He looks to the closed door of the bedroom to make sure all is quiet before pulling off his glasses and leaving his laptop to check on the brownies.  He pulls it out of the oven and for a moment forgets everything else as he stares at the deep gooey chocolate fudge.  He is tempted to stick a finger in and taste it but resists the temptation and leaves it on the counter to cool.  Right next to the white chocolate macadamia nut cookies already cooling there.  Yibo didn’t particularly care for sweet things, but white chocolate macadamia nut cookies were the exception. 

He looks at the clock on the microwave. It’s 3:00 in the morning.  He knows he is being slightly insane right now, but he can’t sleep.  His belly has been in knots for hours and he feels like nothing is distracting enough.  Watching Yibo sleep doesn’t help.  Other than to make him feel like every emotion he has ever felt in his life is trying to burst out at the same time. 

He returns to his laptop and puts his glasses back on to look at the screen. It’s an old scene.  An abandoned version of it.

The margin of error for a mistake at this juncture is… tight.  A smidgen of a grain of sand to the right or left.  That’s it.  Too many options have already been exhausted for the remaining ones to be not limiting.  It was either sink or swim. 

But he takes too long to ponder, and then it’s too late.  He realizes that he has moved aside and Wei Wuxian is already gone. There is a helplessness that comes over him, the sheer ineptitude of living like this, with nary the words or the courage to ask for what he wants more than anything in the world.  

He closes his eyes and feels the pull of fatigue behind his eyelids.  Rest, some voice tells him.  He is still here.  Still here. 

He pulls off his glasses again and rubs the bridge of his nose before he closes the laptop. 

When he opens the bedroom door, Yibo is awake.  Sitting up against the headboard, gazing off.

His chest feels tight as he tries to see the expression on Yibo’s face.  Anger?  Regret?

And then a more horrible thought.  Does he not remember?

“Were you baking?”  Yibo asks, looking his way, turning on the lamp next to him.

His eyes widen when he sees Yibo’s neck. 

He thinks he’s going to be sick. 

He manages to nod.  “Do you want some water?”  he asks.

“I can get it.”  Yibo answers, getting off the bed before he can stop him.

“Uh…” he starts, but Yibo is already sweeping past him and out the door, heading to the kitchen.

He wonders if he should follow, but that would just make it awkward.  Maybe Yibo just needed some space.  Some breathing room.  He can stay in here if that’s the case.  He turns to the bed and climbs into his end of it, staying as close to the edge without making it obvious or awkward.  Maybe he can pretend to be asleep when Yibo returns. 

If he returns.

Maybe he wants to leave.

But it’s too early in the morning to leave.  They have to wait till 5 at least.

The door opens and closes again and he feels Yibo climb back into bed.

He forces himself to turn around in the event Yibo wanted to say something.   He could deal.  It’s fine. He will be fine.  They will both be fine.

Yibo is drinking the water now and he watches that lean throat work up and down, all the purple and pink bruising there moving along with it, taunting him.

“Yibo…” he starts, then pauses to take a breath, thinking that he should have practiced what he wanted to say in his head before he started.

“You took advantage of me.”  Yibo says now, putting the glass down, and turning in his direction.

What?

It takes a moment to understand what Yibo is saying. 

And it occurs to him that that had not even occurred to him.  That Yibo had been too drunk to... 

He clutches his belly as the knots tighten, and he feels cold all over.  He may never feel warm again.

“I’m sorry.  I… I should have recognized you were drunk.”

“What?” Yibo asks now, looking at him.

“I…” he tries to form coherent sentences against all the noise in his head and finally manages, “I should have recognized you were drunk and not…”  he can’t say it and ends up pointing to Yibo’s neck.  As if somehow that was the whole thing.  As if pulling his dick to orgasm in the shower was the same as some heavy-duty necking.

“Hmm?”  Yibo touches his neck and then looks his way in surprise.  Then he jumps off the bed and runs to the bathroom and he can hear the loud “Holy Fucking Shit!” from the bedroom. 

Then Yibo is back and literally jumps on the bed and then on top of him.

“It all fucking happened?” he asks, his eyes wide with wonder.

“You don’t remember?”  he asks, not sure what is happening.

“Fuck yes!  But I thought I just dreamed it all up.  You know, like my theory on Wei Wuxian hallucinating about Lan Wangji.”   he says, his voice a sort of whisper now.

Then Yibo leans down and asks, his smile disappearing, “Wait, did I also have the best orgasm of my life?  That really… I’m sorry, but there is no way that could have been real.  Like legit, it felt like my whole body shook.  Did that happen?” 

He doesn’t answer.  Mainly because he’s speechless.

“What else do you remember?”  he asks when Yibo runs his fingers over his neck again, his smile back.

Yibo’s gaze seems trained far away for a moment and then he looks back, his eyes now softer than fluff. 

“I love you. I love you so much…” he whispers, closing his eyes.  “In that way that only you could say it…. Can’t stand me crying, can you?” Yibo grabs onto his hand to hold it. 

Okay, the memories were all intact, Yibo was just not convinced that they were real. 

He doesn’t know how to feel about that.  How should…

Then another thought strikes him.

“Wait, then why did you say I took advantage of you?” he asks.

Yibo opens his eyes.  It takes a moment for him to understand the question.  And then, “What do you mean? How didn’t you take advantage of me? You knew I couldn’t sleep with anyone else.  You just wanted to play chicken.  To see how far I would take it.  Because you didn’t care.  You were willing to risk it that I would pick up some random dude to have sex with.”

“How can I risk it if you’re saying I took advantage of some knowledge that you wouldn’t?  Either I think you will or I think you won’t.”

“You knew I wouldn’t.”

“Did I?”

“See… see!  How can I have more trust in you than you do in me?”  Yibo asks, hitting his chest.

“I didn’t.”  he admits.  “I didn’t think you would.”

Yibo gets off of him then and lays down next to him.

“Were you really jealous though?  Tell me you were.  I would be satisfied with that.” 

“I drank more vinegar in one night than you did in your entire life.”  he says, a slight grin on his lips now.

Yibo’s face sours though as he says, “Bullshit. You don’t know how much vinegar I drank when you were with Yizhou.”

True.

But then… It takes a moment, but then it sinks in.  The use of past tense.

“You know?” he asks, turning in Yibo’s direction.

“Of course I know.”  Yibo says, as if this much should be obvious.  “I was waiting until you told me yourself given how long it’s been over, but your stubborn ass.  What did you think I would do? attack you? give up on my sexing-other-dudes plan?”

“You did almost with a kpop idol.”  he reminds him.

“Oh bullshit.  If you know anything about Taeyong, you would know he is not into that kinda stuff.  He’s shy first of all.  Polite to a fault.  Would never do something to put NCT's reputation in jeopardy given the baggage that he has from before.  His fame is hard-won and they still give him shit for every little thing.  Not to mention, he is nothing like how he is on stage in real life.  You think that’s the guy I would pick for my random hookup?”

He narrows his eyes.  “You know an awful lot about Taeyong.”

“Yes! he is one of the best dancers in K-pop.  And he’s interesting, you know.  A little awkward, but like he’s made his peace with it.  His fans say he “malfunctions” sometimes.” Yibo laughs.  “He hates heights and dark places, just like me.  Laughs like an engine that has starting trouble.  Just like me.  Loves his best friend.  Just like me.  And of course, is blessed with superior good looks.  Just like…”

He doesn’t let Yibo finish before he pulls him in for a kiss.

There is a brief sound of surprise and then immediate softening of every part of Yibo as he sinks into it.

When he pulls back, Yibo’s eyes are closed and his lips are red.

When Yibo opens his eyes, he reaches up to put his arms around his neck and whispers, “I didn’t get to say this yesterday.  But, just in case you didn’t know…”

There is a pause and he leans in without thinking, anticipation alive and well, even though he knows what Yibo will say.

“Thank you, Xiao Zhan.” 

What?

“Thank you for cleaning up after me, for literally washing the vomit off of me, for baking me cookies, for giving me the best hand-job…”

He pushes Yibo off and sits up.

And hears Yibo lose his shit behind him, cackling with laughter.

When he moves to get up, Yibo’s arms go around his waist to pull him back down. 

Yibo puts his chin on his shoulder and is still laughing when he says, “You knew I had to use that Wei Wuxian-boner-killer, come on… That literally sent Lan Wangji into a tailspin.”

He doesn’t answer, but Yibo doesn’t seem bothered.  Instead, he hugs him tighter as he whispers in his ear, “You know better than anything you’ve ever known in your entire life that I love you to pieces.”  He drops a kiss under his ear and then lingers over it for a moment.  When he speaks again, it’s a little wistful. “Watching them yesterday… I felt so envious.  And so down.  My Doyoung is sitting right there and he won’t even give me the time of day.”

His chest tightens and he says, “That’s not true…”

“Today, it’s not true.  But until yesterday, it was… I felt like I was wearing my bleeding heart on my sleeve and even they could see it, but you were just so stuck on No.  No, I want to kiss you but I won’t.  No, I want to hug you, but I won’t.   No, I want to touch you, but I won’t.  No, I want to sleep with you, but I won’t…”

“I just wanted you to be sure too.”  he says turning around.  “because how I feel, I have had a lot of time to make peace with it, while how you feel…”

“I don’t want a lot of time to make peace with it.”  Yibo answers. “I want to touch you like you touched me yesterday.  I want to kiss you and lick you and…”

He kisses Yibo again, and this time, Yibo pulls him back down, eager to waste no time indeed. 

                                                                             xxxxxxxxx

Chapter Text

The one thing that he had somehow discounted in all the scary sex scenarios with Yibo that had run through his mind over the last - however many months - had been Yibo’s personality itself.  For some reason, it had not occurred to him to think that Yibo would be the same teasing, curious, bullying, needy, affectionate Yibo in sex too.   Maybe he has never really thought of Yibo in a sexual way, actually.  Always too afraid – even in his mind – to go there.  To poke a hole in a dam that needed to stay fortified at all times.

Like now, Yibo is laughing because his ass is literally sliding in lube on the floor.

“Aiyah, we are going to slip and bash out skulls in on lube and they’re going to find our naked dead bodies…” he starts, and Yibo cuts him off with a “They’ll look at us and say, “Damn, these fuckers died happy.””

You know, that kinda shit.

He starts to go to get a towel, but Yibo just pulls him down on the floor with him.  “It’s your place, the floor is probably clean enough to eat off of.   Besides, I’m too horny to wait for mopping up.”

“We have a perfectly good bed, you know.”  he says, although he sits against the side of the bed and pulls Yibo on top of him. 

Yibo groans as the movement brings their dicks into contact with each other, his head falling onto his shoulder.  After a moment, he rocks against his hips, half a bottle of lube that Yibo had dumped out in eagerness -for what he still wasn’t sure – making their cocks slide easily against each other.  “Fuck, I don’t know why I never thought about this.   One dick is great, but two dicks.  Epic.”

“Do you always offer commentary during sex?”  he asks, smiling, holding onto Yibo’s hips.

“Hmm…” Yibo pretends to think about it seriously, even as his hips gain in speed.  “I just like talking with you. And given all your hang-ups about me and homo-sex, I figure…”

He pauses.  “You figure what?”

Yibo pauses too, and then glares at him before lifting up and moving over his dick.

“What are you doing?”  he asks, eyes widening.

“See if I can take you inside.”  Yibo says as his eyes close in concentration.

“Ya!”  he says before flipping them over so that Yibo is below him.

Yibo’s eyes flip open and he looks confused.

“You can’t just ride a dick on first try.  Come on now.”  He holds himself up above Yibo, trying not to kiss the pout on his lips.

“I’ve been practicing.”  Yibo says proudly.

“And what if I’m a bottom?”  He asks.

“Maybe.  But I know you want to top me.”

His eyes narrow. “That’s a bold assumption.”

Yibo tilts his head and smiles before pulling him down.  “Such bullshit.  You know why your Lan Wangji tops? Because boy is a Control-Freak with a capital C F.”

“And I’m a control freak with a capital CF?” he asks, trying not to groan when Yibo spreads his legs so that he can settle in between more comfortably. 

“You didn’t know?”  This with a grin.  “Besides, aren’t you the one who told me how you’re with Yizhou is different from how you’re with me? After you pushed me down and got on top of me to hold my arms down?  After all the times you’ve started fights with me, throwing the first punch?  After all that biting enough to draw blood?  You don’t want to fuck me?”  The grin is gone by now and, instead, Yibo’s legs come around his hips to cross at the small of his back. 

“Fuck…” his whispers as his head falls into the crook of Yibo’s neck.

“I want to try everything with you.  This way and the other way.  Everything with you in it.”  Yibo says in his Yibo way.

He presses down into Yibo then and Yibo’s arms tighten around him, his lips dropping kisses against the jaw and earlobe and down his neck.

He takes care to prep him, adding more lube as if the amount already liberally coating every surface, tile, and skin on and around them is not enough.  Still, Yibo clenches up a bit when he eventually slides in, although he immediately follows up with, “I’m good, I’m good.”

He starts to pull out, but as if sensing that’s about to happen, Yibo lifts his hips and then he’s all the way in. 

He holds himself as still as possible as his mouth turns against Yibo’s neck to softly suck on the salty skin there.

After a few moments, Yibo moans, raising his hips a bit before lowering them.

“You okay baby?” he whispers against Yibo’s neck.

There is a flash of surprise on Yibo’s face at the endearment, although before he can feel any particular way about the slip-up, Yibo’s gaze turns intense, pulling him in closer as Yibo starts moving more earnestly.

“Fuck, slow down…” he says, holding Yibo’s hips to still them. 

Yibo stops but is looking at him with that same look, just waiting, and he admits, “You’re so tight.  I’ll come quickly if you go like this.”

There’s a small smile on Yibo’s face as he waits for him to start moving. 

And he does, praying for control.  Although those prayers are for naught, he can sense it, so instead, he flips Yibo around and enters from the back, which allows him to reach in front to grab onto Yibo’s cock. 

Yibo jerks at the first touch, and he can tell from this angle and this amount of stimulation, he just has to keep the rhythm of his hips and hand steady and count sheep in his head to make sure Yibo comes first.

And he does, yelling his orgasm in true Yibo fashion, entirely uninhibited, and he has to drop his other elbow to the ground to slap a hand over Yibo’s mouth.  He seems to be okay with that, the vein popping out from the side of the neck the only indication that he’s still in the throes of it.  He is so focused on Yibo that once Yibo comes and collapses onto the floor, he does too, over and around Yibo.  He pulls out before Yibo notices that he’s still hard and removes and ties off the condom.

Yibo is a sweaty mess, his body all flushed pink everywhere, his forehead beaded with sweat and his hair sticking to it. 

“You okay?”  he asks, lying back down right next to Yibo.

“I think I’m in Neptune.”  Yibo mutters and he looks over at him.

Yibo is lying belly down still, his face sideways on his folded arms, and he turns his head in Xiao Zhan’s direction now, a smile on his face.

“You want to stay in Neptune?”  he asks.

“If you’re there with me, hell yea.” 

“Let’s take a detour to Neptune through the shower then. Gay sex is definitely messier than straight sex.”  he says, sitting up and pulling Yibo up with him.

Yibo is excited to recreate last night’s shower scene, although he gets stuck on the kissing part and before all the necking is over, they’re clean and then some.

He turns off the water and gets out and grabs the towel to dry off Yibo’s hair.  Yibo is hardly interested in the towel and more into continuing what he started in the shower, kissing and nibbling. 

“You know, you really have a tiny waist.”  he says, pausing in the middle.

Xiao Zhan rolls his eyes. 

“What?  Wait, you’ve been told that before, haven’t you?  All the dudes that you must have slept with must have gone crazy.”

“You know, not every gay dude is into male features that resemble a woman.”

Yibo narrows his eyes at this comeback, and then nods his head as if he understands.  “Ya, I’m not trying to see how much your body looks like a woman’s, because you know, it really doesn’t.”

“Thank you.”  Xiao Zhan says seriously.

“I’m just appreciating what you look like.  It’s not like you’ve let me see before.”

He pulls Yibo close to him to rub at the back of his hair vigorously as he says, “You literally saw me come out of the shower that day when you accused me of crying.”

 Yibo pauses at this and wraps his arms around Xiao Zhan’s waist as he asks.  “You think I’m going to be checking out your body when your eyes look all puffy and shit?”

Xiao Zhan eases the towel-scrubbing and looks at Yibo’s face, so earnest when he looks up now that the towel’s removed.

“I kept waiting for you to come see me instead of just texting, but…” Yibo says, his eyes different now as he recalls.

“I thought you didn’t want to see me.”

“Since when have I not wanted to see you?”

“I texted you like 50 times.”

“53.  But is that the same as coming over?”

“You’re so spoiled.”

“You pimped me out for a date.”

“I did not!”

“Yes, you did.  You joined forces with the mothership terror who gave birth to me and pimped me out to the highest bidder.”

He draws back from Yibo to see his face properly, “What kind of bodice-rippers have you been reading?”

Yibo is not deterred by such accusations and instead says, “And for all that, you think a price of 53 measly texts is enough?”

“Aright fine.”  he capitulates.  “I should have come to see you.”

“Yes, you should have.  Gotten down on your knees and apologized for doing your soulmate dirty like that.”

That makes him laugh.  “You weren’t even attracted to men at that time!”

Yibo kisses him suddenly, sticking his tongue into his mouth.  He recovers in a moment from the surprise and grabs Yibo to him, deepening the kiss until Yibo moans into his mouth and he can feel him start to get hard against his hip. 

“I’m yet to be attracted to other men. What does that have to do with you?”  Yibo asks when he pulls back.

He holds Yibo’s eyes for a moment before he asks, “Is it that easy?”

Yibo nods.  “Loving you has always been easy.  I’m just beyond Neptune that this is an option too.”

It takes him a moment, but he bursts out laughing, pulling Yibo back in for a hug as he says, “I never knew you were so fucking cheesy.”

He can feel Yibo’s grin against his neck as Yibo says, “However did you not?  Am I not the most excessively needy person when it comes to you?  Don’t you call me a brat?  Hell, Ji Li told me to stop being a terror with you so that you can be in actual adult relationships.”

“Ji Li just tends to be a little protective.”

“I know.  I love that about him.  Even though sometimes he can be an asshole about it.”

“He actually asked me if I hurt you yesterday when he saw you looking so down.  Asked me if I pulled one of my passive-aggressive bullshit moves?”

“He did?”  Yibo’s eyes are wide as he pulls back.

“Yea.  So see, it goes both ways.  You’re just so obviously spoiled by everyone in the group that he feels like he has to be the voice of reason.”

“Who else spoils me?  Other than Lulu?”

He wraps the towel around Yibo’s waist and gets another one for himself before walking out of the bathroom.  Yibo jumps on the couch and sprawls out, although he sits back up when Xiao Zhan returns with a plate of brownies and cookies. 

“What did Lulu say to you yesterday?  When you refused to come with me?”

Yibo picks up a cookie and bites into it as he thinks back and asks, “Oh, you mean when I said I don’t want to go with him?”

He nods, taking a piece of brownie for himself.

“She just said, “Yes you do.”  That was it.”

“That was it?”  he asks, pausing in his bite. 

Yibo nods.

“And here I thought it was some grand sage advice.”

“But that’s better than any sage advice.  Reminding me I really did want to go wherever you were.”

“Well damn, so she knows.”  he says.

Yibo sits up now and looks at him, the first cookie gone.  “She does, doesn’t she?”  his eyes widen in wonder.

Then a moment later, “If you really think about it, other than the sex thing, how can people not know?”

“Not know what?”

“That I’m madly in love with you.”  Yibo says, jumping on top of him now, and he fortunately puts the entire brownie in his mouth before it flies out of his hand.

“Yibo, I know your mind has adjusted to this news, but we were best friends for all of our lives.  That’s what everyone knows about us.”  he says as a reminder.

“Okay, so best friends who were in love but never had sex because they just didn’t think the other floated that way.”  Yibo modifies easily.

“I’m glad you’ve rewritten our entire history in your head.” 

“I’m just looking at it from a different angle.  And from this angle, it’s clear as the sun and Neptune why I’ve never found any real fulfillment in romantic-adjacent relationships.  It’s because…” he looks him in the eyes now and grins, “Prepare for some real Yibo cheese.” 

He tilts his head.

“Because you stole my heart from day one.”  Yibo says with an unabashed grin.

“Oh my God.”  he says, his jaw falling open.  “I’ve literally unleashed the corny Kraken.”

“Don’t you love me for it though?”  Yibo asks, grabbing another cookie.

“You mean, I love you despite the corny.”

Yibo finishes the cookie in two bites and says, “And…”  Yibo pauses dramatically.

“And for your loyalty.”

“And…?”

“Your sheer exuberance for life?” he asks.

“No, you fool.  Well, yes, that too, but no.  For my big dick.”  he says, moving aside the opening in his towel to show off.

Yes.  Indeed.

He purses his lips so that he won’t smile. 

“Hey hey, I do.”  Yibo thinks his smile is refuting the obvious and protests, petulantly.

He sets Yibo aside for a moment and walks to bedroom and can hear him yelling out bullshit.  Yibo stops talking when he sees what’s in his hand when he returns.

“Wait, again?”  he asks, licking his fingers off and sitting up.

Xiao Zhan gets back on the couch and gives Yibo a side eye as he pours a reasonable amount into his palm.  “Why, you don’t want to?” he asks.

“Of course, I want to.  What are we doing?  The same?” 

He grins as he looks back at Yibo.  “You just had your first anal like an hour ago.  You’re definitely not ready to go again for like at least a day or two.”

“Really?”  Yibo asks.  “Then what are we…” he stops talking when Xiao Zhan pulls him close and gives him the condom.  He starts putting it on but then gets distracted when Xiao Zhan starts fingering himself, all traces of amusement disappearing from his face. 

“Oh fuck…” he hears Yibo murmur over him a moment later.  His eyes are closed as he focuses, but he feels Yibo’s lips over his and he opens up and it’s all the encouragement Yibo needs before he starts sucking on his lower lip.  The feeling goes straight to his dick and from the simultaneous stimulation from his fingers, he moans out loud.

Yibo pulls back from the kiss and he opens his eyes to see that Yibo’s gaze is clouded over with lust.

“Come here…” he whispers, pulling Yibo back to him, guiding his lubed-up cock into him.

“Oh… fuck…” Yibo almost falls on top of him when he’s fully inside.  “Fuck, I can’t… I can’t…. How are you so fucking tight?”  And then a long moment later, “Dear Fucking Neptune.”

He would laugh and ask about this obsession with Neptune if it didn’t feel so good.

But it did, it felt so good.

So good.

This time, he comes first, Yibo’s rhythm doing part of the magic, his eagerness in finding the spot another part, but his eyes and lips are what drives it home when he moans out his release, Yibo biting into the crook of his neck as he comes a moment later.

                                                                                xxxxx

Chapter Text

The next morning greets them with a series of phone calls, the first one from his mom.

“Is Yibo with you?”  she asks without preamble.

“Yea, why?”

“Tell that boy to call home.  Seriously, he is going to put his mother in an early grave.  And while you’re at it, charge his phone, will you?  She said she called him around five times yesterday and it kept going to voicemail.”

He sucks in his lower lip in chagrin.  They had barely gotten out of bed all day yesterday.  Well, they had; he had made sure to keep them fed and hydrated, but Yibo had taken the energy intervals as just boosts to drag him back to bed.   Not that he had resisted. 

“Okay.”

He thinks that’s it, but when he is about to hang up, she calls his name softly.  “Zhan Zhan…”

“Hm?”

“Is… Yibo okay?”  she asks, hesitantly.

“Yea, why?” he asks.

“Lili says that he’s been out of it.  You know, not his usual self.  She thought things were going well with Zanilia in the beginning.  Do you know what happened?  He ended it sort of abruptly.”

He is entirely caught off-guard by the topic.

 “I… I’m not sure, mom.”

“How can you not be sure?  You’re the only one who would know.”

There’s an ache in his chest as he hears it now.  It’s not anything he hasn’t heard before, but it just seems different now.  This thing that everyone who knew them well enough seemed to know with certainty - that there was hardly anyone in the world who rivaled his position in Yibo’s life - this thing that everyone seemed to accept as an indisputable fact.

“Even if I did, I wouldn’t tell you.”  he says.  Classic.  He’s 25, but has regressed to 12.

His mother, though, doesn’t seem surprised.  She seems resigned when she says, “I figured.  Well, tell him to call home, at least.”

“Okay.” 

He finds Yibo’s phone on the kitchen counter and puts it to charge before starting on breakfast.  He is almost done with the scallion pancakes when he hears Yibo shuffle out of the bedroom, sleepy eyes, bed hair and all.  Yibo’s default position is the back hug, which he does now, resting his sleepy head on his shoulder blades.   He is quiet long enough that Xiao Zhan thinks he may have fallen asleep.

He hasn’t, because he says after a bit, “That smells so good.  I’m hungry enough to eat a whole cow.”

“Go brush.”

“Hmm…” is the answer, but Yibo just snuggles into his back more.

“Mom called.”  he says after a beat.

“Which one?” Yibo asks.

“Mine.”

“Fuck, my phone must have run out of charge.  Did mom call?”

“Mn.”

“Did you charge my phone?”

“Mn.” 

“Okay.”  Yibo seems content with that and once again leans against him.

“Yibo…”

“Hmm?”

“Your mom’s wondering why you broke up with Zanilia.”

Yibo says nothing for a moment, but then his head lifts off of his shoulder and he hears, “What?”

He turns off the stove and moves the pan off the hot metal to cool before turning to lean against the window ledge.

Yibo follows him, squeezing in to sit on his right, and asks, irate, “How is that any of her business?” 

“Stop.  You’re being unfair to her.  She’s just concerned is all.”

“This is not the way to be concerned.  This is just a way to control.”

“Control what?”

“Control who I’m with.”

Ah.  Hm…

He is not ready for this conversation.

Especially because the euphoria of the past 36 something hours has not worn off yet.

“Don’t get into a fight with her.”  he says instead.

“About…” Yibo asks.  And it seems almost a challenge.

He thinks of what to say.  He doesn’t want to control Yibo’s choices.  Or even give Yibo the impression that that’s what he is doing.  But at the same time…

“Can we just enjoy this?”

When he looks sideways, he notices that one of Yibo’s eyebrows has gone up sharply.  He’s not pissed yet… but he’s getting ready to be.

“And by that you mean…”

“Nothing.”  he looks fully at Yibo, holding his gaze.  “I just want to enjoy being with you this way.”

Yibo’s gaze softens for a moment, although in the next, he drops his gaze to the floor as he asks, “Why? You think it’s going to be some Montague-Capulet situation if our parents find out.”

He laughs.  A little.  “Why?  You have plans on being a brash, impulsive, fickle jackass who kills my non-existent cousin?  Or are you planning on being the other version that looks down from a balcony while I jump through roses and thorns to serenade you.”

Yibo doesn’t laugh, but instead says, “You dare compare a two-week relationship to ours?”

Well.  Okay. 

“For the record, I was not the one to bring up the Shakespeare comparison.”  he points out.  Then adds, “Besides, our parents are not mortal enemies.  Quite the opposite.”

Although…

“Ah, but you’re implying that if they find out, it’ll end in mayhem and bloodshed anyways.”

He smiles and bumps his shoulder against Yibo’s.  “You’re so dramatic.”

Yibo is quiet.

And finally, he admits.  “Yes, there’ll probably be a fallout.  Don’t you think?  Your mother trusts me.”

“Trusts you for what?  What does that have to do with how I feel about you?  You think your mother’s going to be happy about this?”

He doesn’t know about that.  But…

“She knows Yibo.”  he says.

“She knows what?”

“That I’m bi.”

Yibo’s face whips up at this, his eyes wide.  “She does?”

He nods.

“Since when?”

“College first year.  I told her.”

Yibo’s face falls at that.  And he wishes it didn’t hurt Yibo every time he came across evidence of how other people knew when he didn’t, even if in this instance, it’s his mother.

He doesn’t try to make it better now by explaining.  In some sense, he knows Yibo understands better than anyone why he didn’t.   Although it still doesn’t make it hurt any less.

Yibo looks up now.  “Just because you’re bi, doesn’t mean that she’ll like me for you.  I’m hardly the ideal son-in-law.”

His smile is gone just like that.  “Why not?”

“Oh, come on.  Between the two of us, it’s clear to both our mothers who’s the responsible, ideal, gorgeous, model son.”  Yibo says, matter-of-factly.

“What?”  that description is off the grid that he has to laugh.

“My mother would only be so lucky to get you to marry into the family.  She must have saved a whole goddamn continent in her past life.”  Yibo adds, not laughing.

“You’re so ridiculous.”  he says, although he now takes Yibo’s hand in his and slots their fingers together.

And kisses the back of Yibo’s hand, lingering there for a moment, before he says, “I just want you to myself for a while without other… things becoming an issue.”

Yibo watches his lips intensely for a moment, enough that it starts heating him up inside, but then looks away. 

“I’m super possessive.”  Yibo says, still turned away.

“No, you’re not.”  he reminds him.   He has watched Yibo all his life.  Yibo is not possessive with anyone.

“Of you.  Yes, I am.”  he says insistently, looking back.

Oh.  Yes, maybe a bit.

“I am too.  Of you.”  he answers.

“No, you’re not.”  Yibo counters.

He’s about to refute that, but Yibo cuts in, “You know it’s the truth.  It’s not a vice or a virtue.  Just how we both are.  If push came to shove, and you thought I would be better off, you wouldn’t hesitate to let me go. Whereas, with me, even I have to drag you into the pits of hell, I would, if it wouldn’t separate me from you.”

He looks at Yibo, startled.

Yibo looks almost combative, that gaze seeming to say, Yes, I know that’s fucked up, but that’s just the way it is.

However he should react to it, it doesn’t matter, because his body seems ahead of his head in this matter, as he gets off the ledge and moves in between Yibo’s legs.  He sees the surprise on Yibo’s face the moment before he takes his face in his hands to bring him up to his lips. 

It turns heated in a moment, Yibo’s hands snaking under his t-shirt and running along his back, and he has trouble thinking at all when Yibo’s teeth sink into his neck. 

He’s weak when he feels how hard Yibo is already and he is sure his head is completely empty save for pure desire when he drops to his knees between Yibo’s legs and lowers the waistband of his pants to take his length into his mouth.

He hears Yibo’s gasp, and then a moment later, a hoarsely uttered curse, and then Yibo’s fingers climb into his hair, his hold gentle for all that he now keeps saying, “fuck… fuck…”

He feels entirely lost to sensation, all his needs and wants contracting in that moment to just this… this pulling, as if he could suck Yibo’s soul into his and keep it safe…  all of Yibo’s passion and fury and warmth and love, all bundled together and away from where anyone else could see it, much less touch it.

When he’s close, Yibo tries to pull away, but he looks up and catches Yibo’s eyes.  There is so much in that gaze, looking back, and Yibo forgets to pull out.

After it’s over, Yibo slides off the ledge and onto the floor and when they’re at eye level, Yibo pulls him into a hug, laying his head of his shoulder, exhausted.

He holds him and whispers, “Tired?”

“If that was your way of convincing me that I shouldn’t drag you into the pits of hell with me…”

He laughs, his fingers climbing into Yibo’s hair. 

“Why would you have to drag me when I would come willingly?”

                                                                                xxxxxxxxx

Chapter Text

“18 texts, 10 missed calls, and I don’t know, like 85 Whatsapp messages.   What the hell?”  He asks, scrolling through his phone.

“We haven’t been in bed that long.”  Yibo murmurs from above him, or rather from his back where he is lying, fully stacked on top of him, neck to toe, heads side by side. 

“How do you define long?  Because it’s Sunday evening and we’ve basically been here since Friday night.”  He asks.

Yibo lays his head down on Xiao Zhan’s shoulder.  “That’s too short, in the grand scheme of things.  You know that I have to start prepping for that tournament in Japan in two weeks.  It’s going to be a busy three weeks from tomorrow on.”   He sighs as he says it.

“I thought you liked it.” 

“Meh.  The replacement asshole we got on the team is a real douche.  I’ve been thinking of phasing out of gaming anyways.   He’s just speeding up the process.”  Yibo says, absently rubbing a thumb along his shoulder blade.  He wants to turn and put that thumb in his mouth.  And he almost does too before he gives himself a mental shake.   They’ve had every shape of sex known to mankind in less than 48 hours; if he cannot have five minutes of actual conversation at this point without wanting to kiss or touch or lick some part of Yibo, some higher power is going to strike him down for being greedy.

“What do you want to do then?”  he asks, his voice sounding steady enough despite the waywardness of his thoughts.

“Hmm… I don’t know.  More dancing, maybe.  It was sorta exciting to do that bit with NCT, you know.  To actually share the space with talented dancers.  Taeyong, Ten, WinWin, Haechan.  Watching them sort of reminded me why I love dancing so much.”

“You can do more of that.  I mean, you choreograph now.”

“Yea, but it’s sort of been this side thing.  I mean, I guess I’ve always sort of had an idea to open a dance studio, but that’s like the long-term plan.  I feel like I need to expand my horizons a lot and gain more professional experience before doing something established and settled like that.” 

Yibo had never talked about long-term plans before.  He had always seemed to have enough work to keep him busy on all fronts, whether it was gaming, dancing, or racing, but the gaming had always taken precedence.  The dancing had always been more hobby than anything else, although in Xiao Zhan’s opinion, Yibo’s talents were wasted on simply choreographing for local troupes and putting out Douyin videos. 

His phone bings and he looks down.

“Oh Fuck!”

“What?”  Yibo raises his head, startled.

“They’re coming over.”  he says, looking at Ji Li’s text.

“Who?”

“What do you mean who?” he asks, turning around, although Yibo holds onto his back, and so when he sits up, Yibo comes with him.  

“All of them?”  Yibo asks.

“Yes.  As they have not heard from us all day about dinner, they are assuming we’ve been murdered in cold blood and are coming over to check.  With dinner.”

“What the fuck!”  Yibo says, jumping up off the bed now.

“Oh my God, Yibo, your neck… fuck, what the fuck are we going to do?”  he asks, pulling Yibo to him and running his fingers down from under his ear.

“Yours looks the same.”  Yibo says, although he’s proudly smiling, kissing one particularly well-loved bruise.  When he pulls back, there is a soft smile on his lips and Xiao Zhan groans and pulls him in for a quick hard kiss.  “Don’t look at me like that when they’re here.”

“Why, are we hiding it from them too?”  Yibo asks.

He doesn’t know what to say, but doesn’t look away from Yibo.

After a beat, Yibo leans back in for a lingering kiss and whispers, “Let’s not tell them yet.  I like that it’s just our thing for now.”

He doesn’t know if that’s how Yibo truly feels, but appreciates that Yibo can read his hesitation about letting the world into their space. 

But he still asks.  “You’re okay with that?”

Yibo nods.  “I… just want you to myself like this too.  Without the rest of the world having an opinion about it one way or the other.”

He smiles and then squeaks a little when his phone bings again in his hand.  “Fuck, let me find us both some turtlenecks.”

He manages to tidy up the living room and the kitchen by the time the gang arrives, carrying three bags of Korean take-out. 

“These fuckers are still alive.”  Ziyi says as soon as he opens the door.

“What the fuck, assholes.  I called you both like a million times.” That’s Ji Li, carrying a case of beer, right behind Ziyi.

Lulu smiles and kisses him on the cheek before turning to Yibo, who grabs her into a hug.  She seems surprised, although she hugs him back too, laughing.

He grabs one of the take-out bags that Yubin is holding and lets in Haikuan with his two bags before closing the door.

Yubin deposits the bags on the kitchen counter before making a beeline to the living room to grab the remote before Ziyi can get to it.

He gives Haikuan a confused look as they unpack the takeout boxes.  “Oh, I won’t ruin the surprise.  And I’m assuming it’s a surprise because I’m assuming one of you would have said something if you knew already.”

“What?” he asks.  “About what?”

“What the fuck!”  he hears Yibo from the living room and looks over to see that Yubin had on some application on TV that was now showing… Lee Taeyong?  He looked different.  Like a round-eyed doe alter of the version that he had met on Friday evening.

“That’s NCT’s vlive from last night.  Taeyong was the one doing it.”  Haikuan says.

He looks back to the screen to see Taeyong switch from Korean to English as he says, “This guy is so talented.  We met him a couple of days ago when we were in China with WayV.  In real life.  He is so good.  You gotta check him out.”  And he turns the camera to a short clip of one of Yibo’s Douyin segments.  Fortunately, not Versace on the Floor.  But another one that was actually a really good one.  Yibo had made up that routine on the spot before they had recorded it.

“What the actual fuck.”  Yibo says again. 

He leaves the unpacking to Haikuan as he moves into the living room to stand beside Yibo.  He gives a quick squeeze to his arm and Yibo looks over and immediately hugs him from the back.  It takes him a moment to remember that just because this now elicits an entirely different set of sensations in him, doesn't mean the gang knows.  They are used to Yibo doing this to him all the time. 

“I can’t believe he did that.” He hears Yibo whisper and squeezes Yibo’s forearms that are now tight around his waist.

“Oh, it’s not just one clip. He spent about 10 of his 30-minute v-live on this!  It’s insane.  You’ve been trending at like number 7 in Korea for almost all day.”

“What?”  Yibo asks, his arms loosening in shock.

“Yea, asshole, we called you so many times. Both of you!  What the fuck were you guys doing?”  Yubin asks now.

It was good that he had an answer ready for this.  “Yibo left his phone at his house.  And I didn’t know mine was out of charge all day.  I just plugged it in.  That’s when I got all your calls and texts.”

“Ya, this is not even it.  Wait till the end of this bit.”  Ziyi says now, calling their attention back.

“What more…?”  Yibo starts when Taeyong’s face comes back on the screen.   Looking directly into the camera, he says, “Yibo laoshi, come to Korea.”

“Aww…”  Xuan Lu says, clapping her hands.  “He’s so adorable!”

Yubin pauses the video and there’s spontaneous clapping from Ziyi.  “Damn boy, what voodoo did you do on him?” 

“Don’t you know I’m a… Boss?” Yibo breaks into a song spontaneously and then twirls for good effect.  “Don’t you know I’m a…? he starts again and Ziyi and Ji Li jumps in with, “Naega Neol Umjigin” which Yibo finishes with a smirk, “Player.”

Xiao Zhan looks at Xuan Lu an raises an eyebrow.  She mouths, “NCT Boss.” 

“Ah…” he nods and on cue, Yubin brings up NCT’s Boss on TV and then the four of them are at it, singing along at the top of their lungs.

He smiles as he rejoins Haikuan in the kitchen, who’s pretty much done with most of the unpacking. 

“Are we the only ones who didn’t know jack about this group before Friday?” he asks as he brings out the plates and utensils.

“Seems like it.  How have we been friends with these fools for this long?”  Haikuan asks and they both turn to look into the living room where Ji Li, Yibo, Yubin, and Ziyi are literally standing on the couch yelling out something like, “Halla Halla Goose Goose!” miming a joint microphone. 

“Ya! My couch!”  he yells out and Ji Li and Yubin hop off.  Ziyi and Yibo definitely could care two shits as they continue the reenactment of whatever is happening on screen.

Xuan Lu comes into the kitchen to help them as Haikuan carries out the first two dishes to the dining table.

When he has the next two dishes in hand and is about to walk out, Xuan Lu stops him and turns him around so that his back is to the rest of the living room.

He raises an eyebrow and she pulls down the edge of his turtleneck. 

His eyes widen, as does hers. 

“Damn, he really is a beast.”

“You should see his…” he starts.  Then realizing what he is saying, he stops.  

Her eyes are wider now, although her mouth is open in an amused grin.

“Keep it between us?  For now?”  he asks.

She looks into the living room around him and he looks back too and they see that Ji Li is trying to pull Yibo off the couch, although he is practically lifting Yibo in order to do that as Yibo will not yield.

She looks back at him and nods with a smile.

                                                                    ----------

Chapter Text

He wakes up to Yibo’s lips against his neck, soft and warm as they tease over his skin. 

“You’re extra needy today.”  he whispers, tilting his neck back to give more access.

“I’m always needy.  It’s because you don’t need me enough.”  Yibo says as he now goes from nosing to nipping.

His fingers are in Yibo’s hair and he pulls a handful of it back, making Yibo yelp.

“Are we really going to compare neediness?  It this a competition?”

That gets him a glare.  “You want me.  I need you. This is a fact.”  Yibo says before attempting to go back to his neck again.

“Pray tell, what is the difference between the two in your head?”  He asks, pulling Yibo back by his hair again, although more gently this time.

“I have to be away from you for a week, so I’m needy.”

“I have to be away from you for the same week, so your point is?”  he asks, narrowing his eyes.

“No, the one who goes away gets to be needy.  The one who stays behind gets to not be so needy.”  Yibo clarifies, as if that passes for adequate clarification.

Then adds, “If I’m the one who has to leave, I have to show more love and care.  When it’s your turn, I’ll expect you to do the same.”

“Ah… so it’s not really about who’s more needy, it’s just the dynamics of making the person who gets left behind feel… less left behind?"

Yibo closes his eyes and breathes in from the hollow between his clavicles.  “You’re like my home.  I’m going to be needy if I leave my home.”

He looks down at this and kisses Yibo’s closed eyes.  “I have no idea how such a cornball is the cool one in our group.”

“But you like my cornball.”  Yibo whispers and he can feel his grin against his neck. 

In answer, his free hand brushes down Yibo’s bare torso and to his pajama pants, cupping Yibo’s semi-erect cock.  Yibo stills for a moment, waiting, and he slowly strokes the shape of it over the cloth, feeling it lengthen and harden.

“I love your cornball.”  he says, moving his hand inside Yibo’s pants to feel the heat.

“Hmm?”  Yibo asks, and he can feel Yibo’s tongue and teeth against his neck, although they are simply reacting now to what is happening below rather than doing anything with intention.

“I love it when you’re horny.”  he whispers, pulling harder.  He can hear the tiny pants Yibo’s making against his neck now as Yibo’s index finger absently seeks out his nipple.

“You know how many sex scenes I’ve written about Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian in the last two weeks while you’ve been busy with the tournament prep?”

“Hmm…?”  Yibo mumbles.

“All post-script.  It’s all sex.  Just chapters and chapters of Lan Wangji losing his marbles and plowing into Wei Wuxian in the bushes, in the library, with the back of Bichen, in the bathtub, behind the stairs, in the stables, on the roof, in the lake… I think I’ve gone insane.  There is no plot to any of it.  It’s all sex.”

He thinks Yibo’s barely listening, but now sees that Yibo has grabbed the bottle of lube. 

He is so hard already that he’s leaking, and when Yibo’s wet fingers find him, they easily take in three. 

“Don’t bother.  I’m ready.” he whispers, pushing down Yibo’s pants and pulling him on top.

Yibo slides in in the next breath and he moans out loud at how good it feels. 

“I love how hard you get.”  he says as he raises his hips, making Yibo bite down hard on his lip.  “Sometimes when I write now, I swear I can feel you inside me, hard and full, and I think I can come from just thinking about it.”

“Fuck…” Yibo says as he starts to move, his rhythm jerky and his breath stuttered.

“Maybe one day when I write, you can be inside me…. or I can be inside you.  Maybe in your mouth… with these lips in a pout all around it…”

He's making himself crazy now. 

“Or maybe… you want to put your cock in my mouth, maybe just on my tongue… tease with just the head, tap it a bit, and watch it pearl up and flow out…”

“Fuck…” Yibo’s eyes are barely focused now as he starts moving hard and fast, hitting his prostate, count after count.  It dries up his words just like that and he grabs onto Yibo’s ass, digging his fingers in.  Yibo grinds his teeth as he comes and he feels it flood him, something about how raw that feels making him come a moment later.

Yibo’s covered in sweat as he moves off, their mingled breaths separating in the aftermath.

It goes quiet soon after, and when he looks over, Yibo’s eyes are closed and his breathing even.  He is suddenly glad for the reprieve as he grabs a tissue and walks to the bathroom.  The shower is not a pleasant experience and he realizes why anal without a condom is definitely only sexy in the heat of the moment.  There is nothing to recommend the clean-up. 

Afterwards, he stands under the hot shower for a while, trying not to listen to the reverberations of all of his words from before.  He hopes Yibo doesn’t remember.  He is glad Yibo’ll be gone for a week, allowing him to stew in this personal kink hell on his own.  Without Yibo teasing him about it.

He had written almost 60 pages of the kinkiest things known to man.  Things he didn’t even imagine that he could dream up, much less put to words in writing.  And even now, he knew that fountain had not dried up.  When Yibo would be gone and he would start missing him like a limb, it would start again, all his hornball fantasies melding into Lan Wangji’s silent need and Wei Wuxian’s exuberant welcome.   When he wrote from Lan Zhan’s head, Yibo’s mischievous smile looked back at him.  And when he gave Wei Wuxian voice, he swore he could feel Yibo hard inside him, making him stupid with want. 

The shower door slides open and Yibo comes in, turning him around and pulling him into a kiss.

“Are you stewing in here by yourself?”  Yibo asks when he pulls back.

“I’m not.” he says, turning around so that his back is to Yibo.

“Bullshit.  Even if my dick won’t cooperate right at the moment, I’m still getting horny thinking about it.”  Yibo says, hugging him from the back.

“That thing…” Yibo starts at the same time he cuts in with, “Don’t!”

Yibo laughs.  “Don’t what?  Appreciate how kinky you are in that awesome head of yours?”

“I hate you.”  he says, elbowing Yibo.

It just makes Yibo pull him back with more force, although now he turns him around.

Yibo reaches behind him to turn off the shower before sinking to his knees.  “Don’t worry, I know we are both out of commission for a bit.  This is not that.”  he says.  Then his gaze is not teasing anymore as he leans up to lick him right by the hip bone before he sucks there, hard.  The flesh there has barely any give, but Yibo still manages to mark it.  And he remembers that this is the same place where Yibo had found a mark the day before he had broken up with Yizhou.

“I told you I’m possessive.”  Yibo says when he looks up at him.

Xiao Zhan taps the tip of his nose as he asks, “You don’t think you have left enough other marks?”

“Yea, but not right here.”  Yibo says as he looks at the spot and kisses it.

“Come here.”  he says, pulling Yibo back up and turning him around under the showerhead before reaching behind to turn the knob.  The water runs warm, cold and then warm and Yibo shivers through it, giggling. 

Once he is completely drenched, Yibo grabs him around the waist and asks, moving his head out of the spray.

“You’ve really thought of all those things?” 

“No.” he says quickly, turning around.

“Because I have too.”  Yibo whispers next to his ear, his finger seeking out the nipple again.  “In the months after you asked me to go have sex with other men, I started watching gay porn.  Just to see if I liked it.”

Yibo stops there and Xiao Zhan turns his head in profile.

“Did you?”

“Hmm… in the beginning, it was just porn, you know.  Not any better or worse than hetero porn, although I liked that at least I could tell that the dudes were both into it.  For obvious reasons.  Sometimes, if I watch hetero porn, I find that I’m always looking to see if the girl’s really into it.  Especially when it gets a little too performative.  I know it’s all a production, but still, sometimes I get stuck there.  And yes, with dudes too, just because the dicks are hard, doesn’t mean, it’s you know, not acting.  But still…” Yibo pauses, as if the tangent had thrown him off course. 

“But the more I watched, the more I started to get into it, and then sometimes it was all I could think about when I saw you.  To see if you would like it if I played with your nipples or put your dick in my mouth.  I wanted to see what your face looked like when you were turned on.  I really wanted to see it.  I really wished I would be able to turn you on.  That you wouldn’t sort of see me as this gay fraud.”

He laughs now, looking back.  “Gay fraud?”

“I’m just saying.  You seemed to have very clear expectations of gay or bi behavior and I wasn’t really sure that I hit all the marks, or really even any of it.  And then I thought maybe you just thought I was like… just a perv, you know.  Like I would stick my dick into anything.  Because I’m not like that, honest.”

“Yibo…” he calls, putting his arms over Yibo’s and squeezing them.

“I mean, I do like sex.  But I really meant it when I said I liked it only with people who wanted the same thing that I did. But when I started to think of you that way, I couldn’t get past this thought that maybe you would never want me that way.  Or even despite everything, I wouldn’t be any good at it.”

“At what? anal?  if you top, the mechanism is not all that different from hetero sex, you know.”

“Yea, but I haven’t done anal with a woman.”

“What?” he asks, turning around.

“I thought you knew that.” Yibo says now.

“How would I know that?”  He asks.

Yibo grins.  “Well, I’m glad you were my first.  You know, both ways.”

He shuts the shower off and grabs the towel.

And Yibo continues, “Aren’t you glad you were my first?”

He scrubs Yibo’s scalp as he says, “I’m glad I’m your last.”

Yibo moves the towel aside to look at him and there is a sweet smile on his face when their gazes meet.

Then he says, “I got a little too into the porn.  I was jerking off thinking about you all the time.”

“About what?” 

“Mainly sucking you off.  Fingering you too.  I really wanted to do both.” 

“Not anal?’  he asks.

“Not really.”

“Why not?” 

“I don’t know.  I think it was because I wanted to know that it actually doesn’t hurt you, you know.  Like I know how it feels to put it in.  But I don’t know how it feels to take it in.  And the plugs and dildos and stuff were pretty blah.  It was like a means to an end.  Like I needed it to be open in case you liked that.”

“What if it turns out you didn’t like it?”  he asks now, pulling off the towel.

“That would have been devastating.”  Yibo answers.   

His face falls at this, although he doesn’t even know why when they’re simply dealing with hypotheticals.

“Because if I didn’t like it, you wouldn’t even agree to a relationship.”  Yibo says now, making him look up in confusion.

“What do you mean?”

“There are lots of ways to be intimate without… like a specific kind of sex, you know.  But there was no way you would be convinced of that.”

“Why?”  he asks, although he feels like he should know this answer.

“What do you mean, why?  If I didn’t like anal, you would become so focused on the fact that I’m not gay – although you know, liking anal does not make you gay, or vice versa, just so you know.”

“I know that!” he interrupts.

But Yibo continues, “Yes, you know that, but you wouldn’t apply that rule to me.  I just wouldn’t get the fair consideration all the established gays would get.  I would be weeded out in the first round itself.”  Yibo says now, his lips curling into that unconscious pout.

“That’s because I didn’t want you to sign up for something that you don’t enjoy for all of life.” he says, pulling Yibo to him, hands on his waist.

“You’re so stupid.  How many years are we going to really care about sex?  But can you imagine life without me?  Even without the sex, wouldn’t you want me to be with you always?”  Yibo asks so earnestly that he kisses him on his nose.

“I want to know how you would have lived life if you didn’t find out that I was bi.”  he says when he pulls back, putting his forearms on Yibo’s shoulders and rocking him forward.

“I know.  How would I find a reason to live with you then?” 

He laughs at how seriously Yibo answers the question.  “Are you even human?” he asks.

Yibo grins and wraps his arms around his waist tightly as he says, “My mom doesn’t think so.  She thinks I’m definitely some beast she hurt in her past life who has been reborn as her son to torture her and exact revenge.”

He smiles at that and drops a kiss against Yibo’s ear where he knows he’s ticklish.  It gets the expected tiny mouse squeak.

“Well, you do love torturing her so.”

“I do not.  She is just the height of unreasonable.  And I have developed a solid plan to make her accept this.”

He pulls back and looks at Yibo.   “What is that?”

“Meh, I won’t tell you.  You’ll try to stop me.  And we can’t have that.”

“Yibo…”

“Just trust me on this, okay?  It’s for her own good.  She only has one son.  What’s going to happen if she loses me forever?  She is going to suffer for the rest of her life.  I’m not unfilial enough to do that.  So, to keep peace and harmony everywhere, and so she can rest in peace after a long and successful happy life watching the two of us be stupid fools in love, I’ve come up with a brilliant plan.” 

“Oh my god.” he says.

Yibo’s eyes narrow.  “I’m telling you right now, if you pull some noble idiot bullshit if she learns of this before we’re ready to tell her and tries to manipulate you into leaving me, I swear to God, I will follow you wherever you go.  You know, I mean what I say.” 

“Yea yea.  You’re all talk.  Let’s see if all this turns to action when push comes to shove.”

“You dare doubt me?”

“I’m just saying, life is you know… life.  Throwing just good intentions and grand declarations at it doesn’t always stick.”

“Oh ye of little faith.”  Yibo says dramatically as he sweeps into the bedroom.  “If I didn’t love you so much, I would walk out of here right now.”

“You’re buck naked.” he calls out as a reminder.

“The world should only be so blessed to see all this.”  Yibo peeks back at him, running a finger up and down his body.

“Oh my god.”  he says again.  “How are you even real?”

                                                                          xxxxxx

Chapter Text

The week Yibo is in Japan, he tries to distract himself with anything other than missing him.  Which appears to happen no matter what.  Whether he is eating or cooking or sleeping or especially when he is working.  Yibo calls him exhausted each night and it’s all he can do to not reach through the screen to touch him.  At times, he’s scared of how he feels.  It feels too intense, like it simply can’t be contained in his body… and other times he wonders if it’s even real.  The past few weeks feel like a dream.  Like he had fallen through a rabbit hole and emerged in another dimension that his mind had crafted solely out of all its suppressed desires of years. 

When those thoughts strike, he bakes up a storm.  Cookies and brownies no longer cut it.  He’s shifted to cakes.  The more his thoughts get wild and nerve-racking, the fancier his creations.  When he runs out of counter space, he packs them all up in cake boxes and takes them to his parents’ house the day before Yibo is supposed to come back.  His dad greets him at the door and looks at the packages that he is carting out of the cab and, with wide but eager eyes, helps him carry them into the house. 

He can hear the murmuring from the kitchen and his dad warns, “Lili is here.  I guess Yibo’s giving her trouble again.”

“What did he do now?” he asks.

“I don’t know.  The boy’s been really acting up lately.  She’s not even exaggerating anymore.”

“Like what?” he asks. 

“Same sort of stuff, I guess, although way worse.  He barely sleeps at the house anymore.  Takes his bike out all the time even though he knows it makes her worry.  Talks back all the time.  Do you know what’s going on with him?”

He doesn’t really respond as he walks into the kitchen.  His mom looks at him and Mrs. Wang stops talking. 

Then they notice all the packages and get distracted.   “What’s all this?”  his mom asks, coming to help carry a few.

“Just a few cakes.”  he says, putting two of the packages on the counter.   “Mrs. Wang, there’re two with strawberries.  The kind you like.  You want to take them?  I baked way too many.”

Mrs. Wang stares at him for a long moment and then bursts into tears.

His eyes widen as he looks at his mom.  She shakes her head quickly and goes over to her best friend’s side, patting her back.  “There, there…”

“You gave birth to the incarnation of the Jade emperor and I got the newest iteration of NeZha.”

“What happened?” he asks, walking over to Mrs. Wang’s side.  He gestures to his dad, who gets a plate and a knife out for him before returning to his tv show, and Xiao Zhan stands on the other side of Mrs. Wang, opening the strawberry cake box and cutting into it for a piece for her.

She blubbers a bit and his mother fills in basically more of what his father said.  It strikes him then that his must be Yibo’s bullshit plan.  To become a full-blown demon-child in his mother’s eyes so that he appears elevated by comparison?   To be honest, he is inclined to believe that Mrs. Wang already thought that anyways.  How ratcheting up Yibo’s own rebelliousness would help their case is thus unclear to him.  Also, no matter what, Mrs. Wang doted on Yibo.  Oh sure, he drove her up the wall, but he knew she secretly adored all his mischief-making, except for the rare instances when he took it too far.  Which is all to say, Yibo’s brilliant plan is a shit plan.  Xiao Zhan knew she adored him well enough, but that had nothing to do with what she wanted for Yibo.  He could be the Jade Emperor and it still wouldn’t make her accept him as her son’s significant other.

“I highly doubt that the Jade Emperor is sitting around in a tiny apartment baking cakes.”  he says now, offering her a forkful of said cake.  

She chews through the tears and then pauses, “If he did, this is exactly what it would taste like.”  She looks back at his mother and asks, “Seriously, what can he not do?”

“Hey…” he says, calling her attention back. “I can’t race like him, dance like him, charm people’s socks off like him…”

She cuts in there and says, “Yes, you can.  Yours is just a different sort of charm.  Sweeter.  He’s all loud and bombastic and in your face.”  She sticks the fork into the cake as if for emphasis and then looks up sheepishly.

“You love his charm.”  he says, taking the bite she offers now, smiling.

She smiles back and cuts another piece as she says, off-handedly.  “Ugh.  Why couldn’t you have been a girl?  I would have figured out how to marry you to him.”

His smile disappears.  He reaches over to dip a finger into the frosting and brings it to his mouth to hide his expression.  Although when he looks at his mother now, she is looking back at him with an odd expression.

“As if I would still be unmarried at this age if I were a girl.”  he says out loud, trying to keep his tone as light as possible.

Mrs. Wang laughs as she looks up.   “I don’t know.  If you were a girl, maybe Yibo would have married you himself by now.”

The frosting feels cloyingly sweet on his tongue.  He wants to spit it out, but he moves to the fridge to get some water instead. 

His mother says something– which he doesn’t quite catch – and then Mrs. Wang is distracted and he takes the opportunity to slip out of the kitchen and up to his room on the second floor.

He lays on his old bed for a long while thinking and when he can’t stand his thoughts anymore, distracts himself with his work emails.  There is a brief diversion, someone reaching out with an offer to adapt his WangXian tale into a television series.  He has gotten an offer like this before for one of his other novels too; Yibo had taken him out to celebrate that night and then the next night they had gotten rip-roaring drunk with the rest of the group, and after all that, nothing had ever come of it.  So, he looks at the email with only the satisfaction that the novel was at least good enough to get an offer, and sends along a quick reply for more information before logging off.

When he is about to go down to help his mother with dinner, she comes to him instead, closing the bedroom door behind her.

He doesn’t want to talk about whatever it is that she wants to talk about.  But he sits down on his chair just the same when she sits on the bed.

“Did you know that Yibo got an offer from SM?”  she asks.

“What?”  his head whips around to face her in surprise.  Whatever he thought she was going to say, that had not been it. 

“You didn’t know then.  I was wondering if you did.”

“Why?” he asks.  But then more importantly.  “When?  When did he get the offer?  And what is the offer?”

She skips the why and goes to the others.  “I guess it’s been a couple of weeks.  They want him to choreograph for one of their groups.  They want him to go down to audition and if that goes well, they think maybe a two-year contract.  As an in-house choreographer.” 

“That’s insane.”  he says sitting up, smiling.  “It must be NCT.  Although, I assume if he’s in house, he’ll get to work with a lot of groups.  That’s incredible!”

She pauses and looks at him, not smiling.  “Don’t you know why you don’t know?”

His smile dims at her tone.  And there is something like a seed of dread forming in his belly now.

He doesn’t answer. 

“He told Lili he has no interest in moving to Korea for two years.  So he doesn’t even see the point in auditioning.”

He tries to breathe evenly as he gathers what she understands.

“She came over to ask me to ask you to make the case to him a bit more.  She assumed you knew.  I didn’t tell her otherwise and just said you were someone who respected other people’s decisions without pushing things on them.  But she was just aghast that he would throw away such a golden opportunity.  She couldn’t even figure out why.  It’s just two years.  He only has to stay if he likes it.  And then he can come back.  But he wouldn’t even hear of it.  Got into a huge argument with her the day before he left for Japan.  Packed for the trip and left.  She doesn’t know where he stayed the night.  But the next morning, he was on the flight to Japan.  And now, he won’t pick up her calls.  He’ll text her back to say that he is okay, but that he’ll talk to her when he comes back.  He doesn’t want to argue more with her and lose his focus on the tournament.  Fair enough, I told her.  But now she is dreading the blow-up that’s waiting when he comes back.  She wants to see if you can talk to him.”

He looks away, his heart hammering in his chest.  He recalls back to that night before Yibo had left.  He had jokingly called him needy, and Yibo had said a lot of things back, words that had climbed into his chest to make a nest and lay eggs and warm him through the cold. 

Even though he knows he has no right to, he can’t help but feel betrayed that Yibo was keeping secrets from him.  Even if the reason was loud and clear. 

“He won’t go because of you, isn’t it?”  she asks, as if his thoughts are on playback.

Said out loud like that, it sounds preposterous, and he says it too, looking out the window.  “That’s preposterous.”  Although his tone implies nothing preposterous. 

“Xiao Zhan…” she calls now, and he is forced to look at her.

“Yibo’s… attachment to you… it’s…” she seems to look for the correct word for a moment before she settles on “a bit unhealthy.  Isn’t it?”

“Why?” he asks.

“How can he live his life if he’s attached at the hip to you.  All those nights he’s not sleeping at home, she thinks he’s going out for some hook-up.  I didn’t want to tell her that I think he’s just at your place.”

“Why not?” he asks, almost as if he expects that she’ll have an answer that satisfactorily explains how often someone can sleep over without being roommates or lovers.

“You really want me to tell you?”  she asks.

“I don’t know what you think, mom. I can’t read your mind.”  he says finally, exasperated.

She seems exasperated too as she says, “He just wants to spite her, making it seem like he’s sleeping around.  But if he won’t leave your side like this, it’s going to get you in trouble.”

“What do you mean?” he asks, his eyes narrowing.

“Oh come on, Xiao Zhan.  He’s a charming one.  Even when he doesn’t want to be.  If he keeps giving you this much attention, who wouldn’t fall for him.”

Oh.   She… doesn’t know then.

“Oh, so you think I’m going to fall in love with him.”

She tilts her head in that way of hers.  “If you’re not already.”

“And he?”  he asks.

She looks sad now.  “How can he love you the same way?  He’s…”  she peters off.

“Straight?” he asks, feeling his expression harden.

She looks at him, resigned.  “I love Yibo, but he’s a bit careless with his affection where you’re concerned.”

“I thought you said his attachment to me was unhealthy.  That doesn’t imply carelessness.”

She looks taken aback at how frosty he sounds.  And he has to remind himself to cool it down and not react until he has a chance to think things through first.

Then she relents.  “Okay, so maybe I don’t exactly know what to call it.  Or even how to define it.  He won’t go to Korea because he can’t really leave your side to go away anywhere.  You’re like this…”

He hates this, he decides.

“Pet that he has.” she finishes.

“A pet?”  he looks at her, too stunned to be angry.

“Okay, maybe that’s not it.  Or, I mean that in the best way possible?  I don’t know.  It’s like you’re his emotional battery and he’s sort of dependent on you to keep it charged.  But Xiao Zhan, you’re my child.  You shouldn’t be anyone else’s pet or battery.”

He starts to speak, but she continues, “I don’t mean to imply that he’s using you or anything like that.  I love him just like I love you.  But, you’re vulnerable to him in a way that he’s not to you.  You understand why I worry?”

He thinks in that moment of telling her why she shouldn’t.  How Yibo feels exactly how he feels.  But he refrains.  Things said in the heat of the moment with no forethought of its ripple effect serve no one well. 

And so instead, what he says is, “I’m a grown man, mom.  I can take care of myself.”

She sighs and gets up, but just before she takes her leave, she turns to him, her face serious.  “I respect your choices and your decisions.  But if you pull some stunt like offer to move to Korea just so he’ll go, I will make a ruckus, Xiao Zhan.  She may be worried about her son, but I will not let mine make all the sacrifices so hers can follow his dreams.”

                                                                          xxxxxxxx

Chapter Text

That night he dreams of Wei Wuxian falling.  It’s a long fall, and he wants it to stop because he can’t stand the motion.  He wants to reach out for purchase somewhere, but there is just a white void without nothing around.  It’s so white that it looks like one entire dimension has disappeared from his world.  And yet he’s falling.  Through nothing and into nothing.  He wishes for darkness so he won’t have to see, but the sheer whiteness is blinding, penetrating even his closed lids. 

When he jerks awake, he’s cold and shivering and it feels like that seed of dread from earlier in the day has expanded.  It sits heavy in his belly now, weighing him down, and he drags himself out of bed to the bathroom.  His mouth is dry and he makes himself walk to the kitchen for a glass of water.  He looks at the neon green light on the microwave that says 2:00.  Yibo’s flight is supposed to land at 9 in the morning. 

He looks at his phone and goes through the last few texts from Yibo. 

>>I can’t wait to see you. I’m just going to hug you and sleep for hours. 

>>Mom’s mad at me.  Maybe I’ll just stay at your place for a few days.  Can I?

<<Of course.  he had written back.  Stay as long as you like.

And then after Yibo had wished him good night, he had waited another half hour before texting, “I love you.”

It’s still on unread.  He assumes that Yibo won’t see it until he wakes up to go to the airport.

He has been thinking of the conversation with his mother since he returned to his apartment.  And he has come up with a solution.  He could just tell his mother he was moving somewhere else, maybe a change of setting to work on a new novel.  And still move to Korea.  Maybe.  It would be the height of coincidence for her to not suspect something fishy.  But really, what would she be able to do. 

The thing is… he likes his apartment.  He doesn’t particularly want to move to Korea.  It makes him nervous just thinking about it.  He’s too much of a homebody to warm up to another country just like that.  He knows.  Yibo would likely be too busy to spend as much time together as he thinks.  But then again, Yibo would be alone too.  It wouldn’t be so bad to try it together.  Maybe he’ll be inspired to start his next novel.  That last bit sounds so nauseatingly optimistic and contrived that he feels the heaviness in his belly worsen.  No no… being optimistic is not what makes him feel better.  Preparing for the worst is what he is good at.  That’s where he feels at home.  And so he goes back to thinking of all the ways in which a move to Korea would not work out for him.   And once he has traveled through all things that would suck about it, he feels calmer.  He would still be with Yibo.  That part would make the rest of it palatable.  He hopes.

He thinks he’ll fall asleep, but he doesn’t. 

And he’s still wide awake at 5 am when his mother calls. 

It startles him so bad that he clutches his belly.  A call at this time is never good news.

“Something happen to dad?” he asks as he soon as he answers.

He can hear her crying at the other end.  “Take the cab to the city hospital.  I’ll meet you there.”  She hangs up before he can ask anymore. 

And then it’s all he can do to rush and change his clothes and make it out the door to call a cab.

He gets to the hospital before her and, rather than wait, rushes to the reception to ask for the room where his father is admitted.

“There is no patient here by that name.” the woman there tells him.

There is a moment of immense relief.  It turns out to be short-lived when he turns and sees the side door to the ER open.  Inside is a sobbing Mrs. Wang who is leaning on Mr. Wang’s shoulder.

While he stares in shock, the door closes.

His heart is in his throat as he turns back to the woman and asks, “Is there a patient named Wang Yibo here?”

“Oh, that bike accident patient?  He already has family here.  You can wait outside the ER until they allow more visitors.”

There is someone waiting behind him, he realizes, and he moves out of the way.

“Is there a restroom here?”  he asks and the woman points somewhere to the left. 

He doesn’t really remember walking there.  But he does remember throwing up in one of the stalls.  There is barely any food in him, so there’s not much to vomit.  But his stomach heaves again and again as if it’s trying to regurgitate the last 24 hours.  He is in the handicapped stall, which fortunately has enough room for him to sit when he slides to the floor afterwards.  He feels so dizzy that he thinks he may pass out on the cold white tiles.

He thinks he’s only saved from it because his phone rings with his father’s name.

He somehow manages to wash his face and mouth and walk out of the bathroom.

By the time he meets his parents outside the ER, Mr. Wang comes out and his mother goes in to be with Mrs. Wang.  Mr. Wang’s eyes are red and swollen but his words are clear.  Clear enough to hear, although he is not sure he understands all of it.  His ears appear to shut off and turn on randomly so the words and phrases are disjointed.   He gathers that Yibo had gone on standby and had taken the earlier flight out of Japan last night.  Then there are just things like, “took the bike and left the house as soon as he came” and “a drunk driver ran a red light” bleep bleep bleeeeeep…. his vision clouds over completely and there is static in his ears and then, “head injury and emergency surgery.”

He thinks he has written a plot into existence.  Is that what is happening?  In all the worst-case scenarios that he had run through in simulation in his brain, a head-injury plot had not been included.  He wonders if his oversight in considering this remote possibility had somehow made it happen.  Hadn’t he solved the move?  the parents?  in his head, but still. There had been a plan. What is this now?  How should he deal with this?

Even all of that doesn’t prepare him for the wait.  Hours and hours until the surgery is over.  And then days when Yibo remains in a coma.  His mother makes him go home with her, puts him under the shower, and cries when he hardly responds.  It makes him pay attention.  Her crying.  He tells her that he can do it himself and makes her leave before turning the water cold enough to startle his entire body back into existence.  He eats food he cannot taste and then returns day after day.  A week later, Yibo wakes up.  And then there is more waiting.  Because the Yibo who wakes up has some trouble remembering things.  But fortunately, that starts to work itself out soon enough.  Mrs. Wang smiles for the first time in days.  A few more days pass before the neurologist arrives at the conclusion that yes, there is some retrograde amnesia.  But in the grand scheme of things, given the pace at which his memories is coming back, it will likely resolve entirely at some point.  So far, he seems to have only lost about a year, give or take.

“What does that mean?”  he hears Mrs. Wang ask.

“In cases like this, long-term memories are generally preserved.   The memories closest to the accident are the ones that are gone.  So it could be anywhere from hours before the accident to weeks or months or years. For your son, it seems like he doesn’t really remember much of the past year.”

“The past year?”  Mrs. Wang asks.

“Give or take, I can’t quite tell.  Dates are fuzzy, it’s more events you know, so he’s hardly going to say today is November 24, 2020.  But I sort of went back and asked him about major events that have happened in the world.  He knows it’s the year 2020, but he is definitely in like January, more or less.   But most other cognitive functions seem to be intact.  He’s passed the neurological exam.  You can get him a neuropsychological evaluation if you want to, to see if there are any other subtle effects that an MRI is not picking up on.   He is probably going to have some headaches and some confusion as more memories return gradually.”  He pauses.  And then says, “It may also be possible that they just don’t.  The last year may just be gone from his memories.  But… we’ll just have to wait and see.”

He feels so relieved.  So much so that it doesn’t even occur to him what it means for Yibo to lose this particular year until much later.  When he and the gang are finally allowed to see Yibo for the first time.  Yibo still grabs for him first.  Just like he always has. In that bratty, sweet, attention-seeking way of his.  But with nothing else hidden in those eyes.  And then it starts to really dawn on him what Yibo may have forgotten.

                                                                              xxxxxx

Chapter Text

The first week Yibo’s back home is not so bad.  At least that’s what Xiao Zhan thinks.  It lulls him into a false sense of numbness that he thinks he can handle.  If he doesn’t think about it so much, it’s not so bad. 

Yibo’s mother won’t let Yibo leave the house. 

And Yibo won’t let him leave his side. 

And so, he ends up staying with Yibo at his house the first week. 

For someone recovering from a major accident and brain surgery, Yibo is remarkably chipper.  Almost like his old self.  He does sleep quite a bit, but when he is awake, he is the needy brat he’s always been when he’s been sick.   He insists of being fed, either by his mother or Xiao Zhan.  Watches a lot of tv. Plays games, both on his xbox and on his phone.  They play a lot of chess, at Xiao Zhan’s insistence.  Yibo plays as well as he did before the accident, he’s glad to observe.   Beats him a few times too.  

Several or all of their friends come to visit almost every day.  Ziyi and Yubin keep things light.  Xuan Lu stays near Xiao Zhan.  She gives him looks sometimes, which he ignores.  But she doesn’t ask anything.  Or say anything.  He doesn’t want anything said.  Or asked.  But he’s glad she’s there nonetheless.

Ji Li and Haikuan are practical.  Helpful.  They bring takeout some days.  Or help Mrs. Wang cook.  Or help set the table for dinner. And wash the dishes when they stay.

In the evenings, Yibo has to take some medicine that makes him sleep pretty early.  And he does so holding onto Xiao Zhan’s hand.  If he separates their hands, Yibo becomes restless.  And so he lets him hold on.  Except when Mrs. Wang comes in to check on Yibo.  Which she does every few hours.  She is worried and barely sleeps, putting on a good face when Yibo is awake.  

He lays awake too, night after night, sometimes watching Yibo sleep, glad that all he lost is a year of memories and nothing more. At times he looks up information on head injuries and watches documentaries on people with amnesia on his phone.  He doesn’t know if he does that because he can’t sleep or he can’t sleep because of what he sees and reads.  It doesn’t seem like any two cases are really similar.  So many variables seem to have a say in how someone recovers.  The exact nature of the injury, mental and physical health prior to the injury, how much support they have from family and friends, to let them return to things at their own pace, to not put pressure on remembering…

He is glad that Yibo’s injury is one that only seems to have impacted his memories and not his personality.  Because he comes across a few instances of people whose personalities seem to have changed drastically post-injury and there is no amount of gratitude he can show to the Universe for leaving at least that part of Yibo intact.

There are other thoughts too that keep sleep at bay.  Yibo had taken that earlier flight out to see him. He had taken his bike out at the crack of dawn with little sleep to come to him.  

There are parts of him – illogical and irrational though he know them to be, but they’re there nevertheless – that make him wonder if maybe he had been given too much happiness all too quickly and this is sort of the Universe’s way of recalibrating to make up for its previous error. 

There are times when he falls asleep, although generally during the daytime.  Sometimes on Yibo’s couch.  Other times, on the Wang dining table.  Mrs. Wang looks at him pitifully, asks Yibo to let him go home.  Yibo doesn’t say no, but he is moody the rest of the day, almost as if all the chipper-ness is just an act.  That he too is holding on and getting through day by day. 

And Xiao Zhan says that he’s okay.  He is. 

It’s not so bad. 

And it isn’t. 

Until it is.

On the seventh night after Yibo is home, Xiao Zhan sees Lan Wangji is Yibo’s bathroom.  Not a dream.  But in the flesh and blood.  He is there, looking as ethereal as he imagined him to be.  In his blue robes.  He doesn’t say anything, but when Xiao Zhan falls asleep sitting on the side of the tub, Lan Wangji keeps him from sliding off.  When he wakes up, he has his head on Lan Wangji’s shoulder.   He tries to apologize, but Lan Wangji just says, “Sleep.”

He does.

Mrs. Wang finds him in the empty tub like that, curled into a fetal position and asleep.

She makes him return to bed.  Although when he sees Yibo, he is wide awake again.  And stays awake. 

He dozes off sometime in the early morning.  And wakes up shivering.  Yibo is not near him.  There is a moment of panic when his mind flashes back to someone running a red light, superimposed with the image of Yibo flying off his bike during the ARRC race.  It makes him get off the bed and rush out of the room. 

From the top of the stairs though, he can see Yibo downstairs in the living room.  He is sitting on the couch. And on the armchair next to him is Yana.  They had gone to high school with her.  Their families were friendly with each other.  Xiao Zhan also remembers that Yana used to have a crush on Yibo.  He doesn’t know if that is still the case.

All the same, it is a moment in which he confronts how many things have reverted back to how they used to be.  It’s not just that Yibo is no longer in love with him.  This Yibo is also the Yibo who only entertains attraction to the opposite sex. 

Yibo doesn’t notice him and he is thankful for that as he returns to bed.

This time he sleeps. 

And sleeps.

When he wakes up, he is no longer in Yibo’s house.

There is laughter from a television set mounted on the wall.  Some morning show, he thinks.  It takes him a moment to realize that there is an IV running out of the back of his hand.   He lifts his hand to look at it and sees his mother dozing off on the right, her head at an awkward angle, the hospital chair offering little support. He knows.  It wasn’t that long ago that he was sitting in one of those day after day.

He watches her now in her sleep.  She seems to have aged years since he last saw her.

He wonders if he’s been sleeping for years.

“Oh, you’re awake.”  he hears from the left and looks to the door to see a nurse coming in.  She has a kind face and a wide smile. 

His mother stirs and he looks back.

She looks disoriented at first, but then stands to come to his side, her eyes wide.

“Why am I here?” he asks.  “And what’s this for?” he lifts his hand with the IV.

“Just a little dehydration.”  the nurse answers, waving her hands.  “You’re perfectly alright.  We can let you go as soon as your pneumonia is gone.”

“Pneumonia?”  he asks. 

“Hmm.”  she says.  “I’ll order your breakfast.”

He looks at his mom once the nurse is gone and notices how fatigued she is.

“You’ve had a difficult time, haven’t you, ma?” he asks, squeezing her hand.

She lowers her eyes when he sees them fill and then she gets into bed with him, holding him close.

It takes him a while to realize that her blouse is wet.  Except it’s not from her tears.

He grabs the edge of his blanket and places it between her blouse and his face.  And lets her hold him. 

This time, he cries for a long time.

Until sleeps comes again, as if sensing he is finally at the edge of the world.

                                                                                  xxxxxx

Chapter Text

It turns out that that had not been the first he had woken up.  He had woken up before too, although it’s vague and hazy in his head.  He has been in the hospital for almost two weeks, he learns.  Initially for dehydration, which at some point turned into pneumonia.  Mrs. Wang comes to visit every day and so does his friends. 

With one notable exception. 

Yibo is not there.  He is in Korea.  His dad is there with him too. 

He tries to have no reaction to the news.  But there is an instant moment of relief.  After that moment passes, the despair leaks through and he lets it wash over him, too tired to hold it off.  Lulu tells him that their parents had made Yibo go to Korea because he wouldn’t leave his side at the hospital.  It was a sort of vicious cycle; they were making each other sicker and not letting the other recover.  Finally, the mothers had had to intervene and had appealed to Yibo to give Xiao Zhan some time to recover.  And to focus on recovering himself.  And he had finally relented and left. 

When his mother finally gives him his phone, he looks to see if Yibo has texted.  He has not.  Yibo has a new phone.   The old one had been crushed with the bike.  The last text he had sent Yibo is still from the day of the accident; it had been read early that morning, he could only assume before the accident at some point.  Although the message is now only on his phone.  It’s just as well.  Fits right in with the rest of all that is lost. 

Yibo doesn’t text him that day or the next.  Or the next.  He doesn’t text either.  Because frankly, he doesn’t think he has enough strength to deal with it. 

Then time in a blur and he can’t really be bothered to keep track of it.  Even basic things are a chore.  Like eating.  Getting up to go to the bathroom.  At some point, he is discharged from the hospital.  His parents take him home.  He vaguely remembers giving up his apartment.  His mother is too worried to let him live alone, it seems.  He can’t say that he blames her.  He doesn’t want to return to his apartment.  He is worried he’ll start to see Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian there.  Start talking to them as if they’re real people.  And so, he doesn’t resist so much when his parents pack up his apartment and sells off his furniture.  He does remember to tell them to save the walnut table.  To bring it home.  Yizhou comes to visit him once.  He refuses to see him.  He has seen what he looks like in the mirror.  It doesn’t look like him anymore.  And so, he wishes to see no one.  But his friends still come.  Ji Li comes at least every other day.  Lulu comes just as often too.  He doesn’t talk much, but they don’t seem to mind, often simply being in the same room with him.

When his mother talks to him about seeing a psychiatrist, he finally tells her that he is planning to move.  She’s alarmed, he can tell.  But he’s been thinking about this for a few weeks now.  There’s a hilly town that’s about six hours by train from home.  He had visited there once while on a trip in college and had imagined Cloud Recesses out of its landscape.  He is thinking of renting an apartment there.  Instead of asking why, she offers to move with him.  When he refuses, she says she will just rent an apartment near him then.  He relents then and agrees to let her stay with him for the first month and once she is satisfied that he is not going to waste away from not getting out of bed all day, then she can return. 

He still doesn’t hear from Yibo.  But he hears from Mrs. Wang, who comes to visit every day, that Yibo passed the audition and has the contract with SM.  So, he will remain in Korea for at least two years.  She seems relieved.  His own mother seems relieved too.  He doesn’t know what he feels.  To be honest, he feels a bit dead inside.  Nothing really seems to be able to penetrate through it.  So, he lets it be.

When he tells his friends of the move, Ziyi breaks down and cries for the first time.  She is almost inconsolable and he watches Haikuan hold her through the whole thing.   Even Yubin is quiet.  Ji Li looks up flights to come visit him as soon as possible.  Xuan Lu sits next to him and holds his hands.  And then he realizes why he had decided to move.  He is bringing everyone down.  They’re all so sad when they’re with him.  It’s a tragedy that despair is so contagious. 

It turns out none of them have heard from Yibo.  They call and text him regularly, but he doesn’t return any of them.  The only consolation is that Mr. Wang is there with him.  And he assures them that Yibo is busy.  SM has a grueling schedule.  In some sense, Mr. Wang seems glad that Yibo has a schedule to follow.  That he’s so busy that he doesn’t have time to remember what he doesn’t remember.  Or worry about when he’ll remember.  That Korea is so new to him that every corner is not a pitfall that brings an assortment of hazy recollections that hides more than it shows. 

And Xiao Zhan is glad.  He had wondered whether his presence had been slowing Yibo’s recovery.  And despite what it seemed like at the outset, maybe they were just no good for each other.  How can you love someone and drag them down?

On the day he moves, with really just three suitcases – the apartment he is renting has some furniture and he doesn’t need all that much anyways – all his friends come to the train station to see them off.  He hates it.  He would rather have gone away in the middle of the night by himself.  But it seems important to them.  Ziyi doesn’t cry this time, but holds Lulu who is sobbing quietly.   He tears up despite himself when he sees Lulu cry.  He gives her a hug and can feel her tiny trembling breaths as she tries to stop crying.

And then they’re on the train and leaving home behind.  He amends the thought.  That’s only partially true.  Part of his home had already left him behind.  It had flown the coop to another country while he slept.   And so this feels a bit anticlimactic. 

                                                                                     xxxxxx

No matter what he had thought in the beginning, once he is in The Clouds – which is what he has taken to calling his new home – he’s glad that his mother had decided to come with him.  Because simply having the motivation and intention doesn’t translate to the energy that he needs to get on with life. 

The Clouds has many hilly areas with a lot of green and he and his mother start going for walks every morning.  The air is crisp in the morning and there is a heavy mist that hangs over their heads when they set out, but it tends to clear by the time they make their way back to the apartment.  Within a week, they have a routine of sorts, a rhythm to their day. 

She doesn’t ask him to talk.  And once he realizes that she won’t, he finally exhales.  He doesn’t want to talk about it. Ever.  Especially because, for all intents and purposes, all those months of yearning and those weeks of bliss all existed only in his head anyways.  Just like his stories, his love too had become a figment of his imagination.

His father comes to visit and stays the first few weekends and then when they figure out that his friends visit during the weekends, his mother ends up going back home during the weekends.  They keep that up for almost two months before he tells her that he’s okay, that she can return home to dad.  That they can come together to visit regularly if they would like.  She is hesitant, but she listens.  He appreciates that so much about his mother, he realizes.  Even with all her fear and worry and grief about what’s going on with him, she still listens.  And doesn’t assume that she knows what’s best for him.

The first week without her is difficult.  But he had anticipated it.  Had made a schedule for himself so that there is something to do always, even if it’s something mundane like folding his laundry. 

And he realizes that the biggest trepidation that he had about being by himself is being alone with his thoughts again. 

Memories of Yibo always lurk behind every thought he has, some he can see from far away, but others catch him by surprise. Like when opening the microwave door reminds him of Yibo pulling him into a back-hug.  Every window reminds him of Yibo. Showers remind him of Yibo.  Breakfast reminds him of Yibo.  Soup reminds him of feeding Yibo.  French Toast reminds him of Yibo.  Sports shows remind him of Yibo.  Crying reminds him of Yibo.  Smiling reminds him of Yibo.  Worrying reminds him of Yibo.  Being idle reminds him of Yibo. 

And everything Yibo has ever said to him seems like a premonition now, a foreshadowing of this aftermath…

“You don’t even have any memories without me.”

“I have plenty.” 

“Yea, but you forget all of them.  The only ones that stay with you are the ones with me in it.”

Making memories without Yibo now seems imperative.  All the more because it seems that he has never paid much attention to things without Yibo.  Even though there have been many moments in his life without Yibo, if he’s asked to recall them, there are only barebones of it.  Even the entire three months with Yizhou seems three frames of black and white save for a few blips of color, when even the most regular breakfast with Yibo is vivid and detailed. 

For a while, he tries to keep the memories at bay.  Eventually, he grows tired of holding them off and allows them to come.  It’s a tricky thing, because sometimes it feels like he can hear Yibo laughing from the next room.  And sometimes, he expects Yibo to come up behind and hug him like he always did.  He misses that a lot. That feeling.  He misses both the way he used to do it when they were just friends and when they had become more…

He misses everything about Yibo.  Not just the last year, but every year going back to the beginning of his memories. 

And when enough time passes, he wonders if the last year hadn’t happened, he would have been strong enough to be strong enough for Yibo.  And it wouldn’t have come to this parting. 

By late-January, he’s making good headway on his newest novel.  And it seems like WangXian’s tale being adapted to television may not disappear like a pipedream after all.  There’s a producer who is quite invested.

And Xiao Zhan has been asked to assist with selecting from a list of screenplay writers. 

His friends continue to come most weekends, although they take turns now in coming, two at a time, which is manageable.

By early February, he knows that he has to deal with what he has been putting off. 

Going back home for Chinese New Year.

His mother has not mentioned anything about Yibo coming back to China for the weekend, which he takes to assume that either he is not or that she doesn’t know.

Ultimately, it’s just two days that he’ll be home.  His parents have not mentioned anything about a New Year get-together, so he assumes it’ll be just the three of them this year, where every year until now they have always celebrated with Yibo’s family at least one of the days.

The train ride home is somewhat bittersweet.  Mostly because he’s filled with memories of how it had been when he had left.

His parents are ecstatic to see him, even though it's only been two weeks since they saw him last.   He puts his things down in his room and comes downstairs to help them in the kitchen.  They keep the conversation light and dinner is a homey affair, a bit ceremonial for tradition, but mostly, it’s home for holidays with all its comfort.  He falls asleep on his mother’s lap watching some celebration on tv and she stays there with him, sleeping in that awkward angle all night, his dad sleeping on the couch next to them.  When he wakes up early in the morning, finding them like that, his eyes fill, and he vows to never put them through this sort of anguish again.

Nothing is worth doing this to anyone.   Certainly not some lovelorn grief that no one else knew of or remembered.

The next evening, he goes out with Ji Li to a lounge.  The rest of the gang will be there too, Ji Li says. 

Yizhou is there with everyone else when he gets there.  He smiles, genuinely glad to see him, just as he is glad to see everyone else too.  There is a noticeable absence, which he had known would be the case.  Yibo is in China, but WayV has a New Year’s concert and so he’s busy.  It’s just as well.

He apologizes to Yizhou for refusing to see him the last time, although Yizhou waves it away.  Yizhou only stays for a short time before he has to head to another event, but it’s good to see him nonetheless.  There are now only feelings of a lingering gentle warmth, and nothing else.  And it seems as though Yizhou’s feelings are the same as well.

Once Yizhou is gone, he stays another hour before deciding to head home.  His train back is early in the morning and he has gotten an appreciation for adequate sleep and rest and the wonders that it does for anxious, overworked brains. 

He thinks to stop by the restroom on the way out and makes his way through the somewhat crowded hallway to get there.  There are people lingering in the narrow space talking, others are on their phones, and there's a couple making out at the end, blocking the way to the entrance of the bathroom.  He almost turns back, but then figures that at some point, someone will have to tell them to move.  It might as well be him.

“Excuse me…” he says, as politely as possible, trying to keep his eyes averted.

Although, when the guy pulls back and turns in his direction, he pauses.

“Sorry.”  Xiao Zhan says, moving back, startled. 

He ends up having to push past people to get outside and, even then, he has to round the corner of the building and lean against it to draw air into his lungs.  It’s colder than usual, even for this time of February, and the wind picks up, making his eyes water.

It’s very likely that he had imagined what he saw, although he knows that that’s likely not true.  He is no longer hallucinating like he was during those weeks when he had been sleepless.  His perception of things is now generally grounded in reality.  But still, he allows that…

It doesn’t matter either way.  He straightens and opens his phone to call a cab.  When that’s done and he walks out of the alleyway, he sees him. 

He is standing about six feet away, looking this way and the other, until finally, his gaze finds him.

For a moment, they stand there staring at each other.

And he feels that thing that he has seen in movies where the rest of the world becomes a blur and it’s just a tunnel vision between two people.  Except, when Yibo starts walking towards him, he blinks and shakes himself out of it.  He is alone in this tunnel.  Yibo is outside of it.  In a world now that is separate from his own. 

The one who goes away gets to be needy.  The one who stays behind gets to not be so needy.  Yibo had said once. 

What about the one who had been left behind.

                                                                           xxxxxx

Chapter Text

“Hey…” Yibo says when he is finally close enough. 

For a moment, he is at a loss for words as he takes in how Yibo looks.  There is a flush to his cheeks owing to the bite in the air.  His hair is finally growing back from having been shaved off for the surgery; Yibo had only been wearing beanies around when he saw him last, not liking the bald look.  He had thought it looked good on Yibo.  But either way, it’s gone now.  There is not enough hair to whip or flop around in the wind and thus give any cover to his face.  Which looks different. Healthy, but different.  It’s more defined now.  As though having a real job, being in a new country, and shaping a new reality have all expected Yibo’s face to act the part too.  It’s different from the Yibo whom he had known.  This is like an older cousin whom he has never met.  And it occurs to him that maybe he had not been left behind.  Maybe the Yibo that he had known is gone now too. 

It makes it easier to answer with, “Hey.”

“You’re… leaving?”  Yibo asks.

He nods, looking to the road to see if his Didi is here.  Not yet. He hopes it’ll be here soon.

When he looks back, he sees Yibo nod.

He has nothing else to say.  And no desire to prolong this conversation.  And so he says, “It was nice to see you.  But I won’t keep you.”

Yibo seems taken aback.  He doesn’t walk away though, but stands there.  “I’ll wait with you until your cab comes.”  he says instead.

Why, he wants to ask.  But he doesn’t.  What’s the point?  For some reason, he knows, this time when he goes back, things will be okay for him.  Maybe there had been a part of him that had been worried about how Yibo had been doing.  But now it really does seem like Yibo’s fine.  He’s glad.  Seeing how well Yibo’s doing will hopefully also make his mind calmer.  Make it easier now to move on with his life too. 

“I heard you moved.”  He hears and looks sideways at Yibo to nod briefly before looking back to the road.

“Why?” Yibo asks.

Why?  His mind repeats.

He shrugs.  Because what else is there to say now.

“You loved your apartment.”  Yibo says.

He doesn’t say anything to that.

“I loved your apartment.” Yibo adds.  This time he turns to look at Yibo again.  There’s a smile with no humor as he states the obvious.  “You don’t live here anymore.”

“It’s temporary.”  Yibo says.

That’s how all moves start.  But then you got used to it and it became permanent.  He doesn’t say that.

Instead, he says, “You can look into renting it when you move back.”

“What?” he hears Yibo’s surprised turn of the head.

But then his cab arrives and he sighs in relief. 

“There’s my cab.  Thank you for waiting with me.”  He says and steps off the sidewalk and into the cab before Yibo has a chance to answer.

He rubs his hands together to warm himself in the Didi, although he doubts he’ll ever be warm again.

When he gets home, he sees that his mother is waiting up for him, watching tv.  She smiles and says that no, she isn’t really waiting for him and that it’s still early.  Which is true.  It’s hardly 11.  He sends her off to bed nevertheless, knowing that she’ll wake up at 4:30 in the morning to see him off before he left for the train station.

Once he showers and changes, he packs up his carry-on and gets in bed, hoping that his mind won’t torture him with events of the past hour instead of letting him sleep. 

He hears a knock on his door and wonders if his mother has forgotten something. 

When he opens the door, though, it’s Yibo standing outside.

His eyes widen and he pulls Yibo inside, then peers out to the opposite wing past the long hallway where his parents’ bedroom is. The light from that side is still off and he breathes a sigh of relief and closes the door and locks it before turning back around.

“What are you doing here?”  he asks, leaning back against the door.   “How did you even get in?”

He sees Yibo swallow before he answers, “Your mom still leaves that kitchen entrance unlocked.”

It’s a bad habit of hers.  And one that he has scolded her for so many times.  She would probably never forget to lock it again if she knows that Yibo had gotten in that way and is in his room now.

They stare at each other for a moment before he asks again, “What… are you doing here?”

For a moment, Yibo seems at a loss for words, but then he rubs the back of his neck as he answers, “I… wanted to see how you were doing.”

He doesn’t know what to make of this. 

“I’m… well.” he answers, for lack of anything better to say.

“I didn’t know you would be in town this weekend.”  Yibo says.

“You didn’t go there to meet up with the guys?” he asks, surprised.  It would be odd that one of them hadn’t told Yibo that he was coming back into town.

Yibo shakes his head.  “I haven’t kept in touch with them.”

“What?” he asks, finally moving off from the door.  “Why not?”

Yibo doesn’t answer. 

“I know they still text you.”  he says then.

“I don’t check the group texts anymore.”  Yibo answers.

“Why not?”

“You don’t ever post there.   Or reply.”  Yibo says suddenly, with a burst of feeling.

He is taken aback.  “What does your relationship with them have to do with me?” 

And now he sees the first crack in the façade as Yibo runs his fingers through his close-cropped hair.  “What’s going on between us?”  he asks, something like anguish in his voice.

He stares in surprise as Yibo walks to his window and leans back against it as if he needs the support.

“Did I hurt you in some way before the accident?  Something terrible that I must have done that I can’t remember.”

And just like that, it’s like the old switch got turned on in his head.  The one that has no self-preservation when it comes to anything related to Yibo.

Although, he guesses that’s not true.  He has enough self-preservation now to not attempt to approach Yibo’s side.  Instead, he pulls away from the door and he shakes his head.  “No, nothing like that.”

“Then why did I make you so sick?”  Yibo asks, looking up.

“You… didn’t make me sick.”  he answers.

“Yes, yes, I did.  Those nights when you were in the hospital, I was in all your dreams.  And you kept saying, “No, don’t do that.  Yibo, please don’t.”  Sometimes you were inconsolable and they had to hold you down because your fever was so high and you were saying things like, “I told you this would happen.  But you didn’t listen.” and “I really am in hell, Yibo.”  And sometimes it seemed like you were talking to imaginary characters from your novels.”

“What?” he asks, eyes wide.  He had no recollection. 

“They finally brought the staff psychiatrist in for consultation and he seemed to be of the opinion that I was somehow making it worse.”  Yibo says now, rubbing both his hands through his hair again.

And this time, he doesn’t even know that he’s moving forward until he’s next to Yibo and pulling his hands away from his hair.  Which is when he notices the tiny patches of bald spots.

“Are you pulling out your hair?” he asks, his finger smoothing over a little spot right by Yibo’s temple.

He has no real warning before Yibo’s arms go around his waist, pulling him in tight, Yibo’s face against his chest with how he’s sitting against the ledge. 

He’s so startled that he doesn’t respond at first, although he hears Yibo say, “I’m so sorry for whatever I did.  I have tried to rack my brain for it, but there’s nothing but blank and empty spaces.  I can’t even imagine how I could hurt you, of all people, but I have no idea what I did.”

“You didn’t do anything.”  he says, smoothing his hand over Yibo’s hair in reassurance, his response to Yibo’s distress automatic.

It just makes Yibo hug him even tighter.  And it feels like the warmth of the fireside after coming in from a storm.  He didn’t know there were parts of him that needed Yibo’s touch to simply not wilt.

“Is that why you left while I was still asleep?” he asks eventually.

Yibo pulls back to look at him.  “Oh, you know I’m not that selfless where you’re concerned.   They had to drug me to get me out of the hospital.”

“What?” he asks pulling back.

Yibo nods.

“How?”

“I don’t know.  A heavier dose of one of the sedatives that they had prescribed for sleep, I think. Either way, the psychiatrist staged an intervention.  Said I was making both you and me sicker by staying in the hospital with you all the time.  They had to get me a bed next to you for a few days when I started to get migraines, you know.  I rather liked having the bed. The chair and the couch were a huge pain in the ass.”

Which he knows is bullshit, because it wasn’t that long before that that Yibo had been in a hospital bed for weeks.  Yibo hates hospital beds.

“And then?” he asks, looking down.

“And then what? They convinced me to go to Korea for the audition at least.  Take my mind off of things.  Give you some breathing room.”

He waits, looking at Yibo.

“You started to recover pretty quickly after I left.  It was hard to argue with evidence like that.  Then it got into my head that I had done something dreadful to you but I just couldn’t remember.  My parents told me nothing like that had happened.  And none of our friends thought anything like that had happened either.  So, I gathered it must have been private.  I hurt you in some way no one else knows about…”

“You didn’t.”  he stops Yibo now.

“Bullshit. I know I did.” Yibo shakes his head.   “I know I can be selfish and maybe a bit crazy where you’re concerned.  Whatever it is, will you…”

He covers Yibo’s mouth before he finishes.  “Stop.  You didn’t do anything.  You know I’m a bit of a fanciful creature.  I was probably talking about some novel plot and they sort of assumed it had to do with you."

“Then why did you give up your apartment?  Move so far away?  I don’t even know where you live.  No one will tell me.”

This takes him aback.  “Why? Who did you ask?”

“My parents.” Yibo answers.

“What did they say?” 

“They just said that we are both recovering so well away from each other and to just leave it be.”

“You didn’t ask our friends?”  he asks.

“Wait, they know?” Yibo asks, pulling his hand off.

When he starts to move away though, Yibo immediately puts his arms back around his waist to draw him back.

Yibo doesn’t wait for him to answer before he says, heatedly, “How can they know when I don’t know? How can you tell them something that you won’t even tell me?”

He tilts his head and looks at Yibo.  “It’s not like you ever texted.”

Now Yibo seems mad. “Have you not been listening?  They staged an intervention.  And told me to stop contacting you.  Besides, they always gave me your recovery updates. How nicely you were doing.  And even though they didn’t say it outright, the implication was clear about how it was all happening because I left.  And here, I don’t even really know how to live my life without you.”

“Stop.” he interrupts when Yibo’s words start confusing reality for him.  He has to remind himself that this is how Yibo has always been with him, even when they were just friends.

“You seem to be doing fine.” he says then, to ease the sting of the stop.

“Do I?”  Yibo asks, grinning for the first time.

“Well, at least you seemed to be a having a good time back there, blocking the bathroom and all.” he says with a calm he doesn’t feel.

“Oh that.” Yibo waves it away dismissively.  “An experiment, let’s call it.” he says casually.

He tilts his head in question, saying nothing else.

Yibo takes a deep breath and sighs, then whispers conspiratorially.  “Don’t say this to anyone?”

He straightens his head and nods. 

“I think the accident may have… damaged…” he nods in that You Know fashion.

Xiao Zhan shakes his head. 

Yibo sighs now and closes his eyes.  When he opens them, he asks.  “Don’t you remember me as this sex-loving person?  Like I got good, solid play, right?”

He nods.

“Yea, I think that was damaged in the accident.”

He laughs.  And then shakes his head when Yibo looks at him with narrowed eyes.

“I’m serious.  I have zero libido.  No interest whatsoever in sex.”

“That’s a shame.” he says after a moment when Yibo doesn’t continue.

“I know.”  Yibo nods his head seriously.

“And so you were experimenting…” he asks.

“Yes, well, she is one of the WayV managers in China.  She’s shown some interest for a while, although I don’t really see her that often.  She’s nice.  Not looking for anything serious.  Just my type, right?”

He doesn’t nod.

But Yibo continues.  “So I thought maybe the little guy just needed some… you know, encouragement.  Just a reminder like, “You used to love this shit before.””

Yibo stops there as if that’s the whole story.

He tilts his head in question.

Yibo shrugs.  “Yea no, dude still has no interest.  The equipment works.  It just has no fuel.”

“You have some interesting metaphors.”  He says, pulling back from Yibo’s hold.

Yibo pulls him back, tighter.  “You think I’m going to let you go now after all this time of being away?”

“You have to go back to Korea.  And I have a train to catch at 5 in the morning.”

“Can I come see you?” Yibo asks.

“What? Where? At the Clouds?”  he asks, startled.

“You live in a place called the Clouds?” Yibo asks, his eyes wide.

He doesn’t answer, but says instead.  “And you live in Korea.  And work as an in-house choreographer for SM. SM!  I don’t know if you remember meeting NCT before…”

“They told me.” Yibo cuts in.

He smiles at that.  “They did?”

Yibo nods.  “Taeyong assured me it was a fun night.  Doyoung wanted to know when he would see you again.  I think you made quite the impression on him.”

“Bullshit.” he says, although he smiles at the memory. 

“No, it’s true.  They’re still so amazed at the memory loss thing.   Like they can’t quite get over it.”

“I’m sure it’s not every day that they meet someone who forgets meeting all of them. All 23 of them too.  Including your pretty boy Taeyong.”

“Oh, so you think he’s pretty?”  Yibo asks, lifting an eyebrow.

“Why, don’t you?”  he asks.

Yibo keeps that look for a moment before he laughs and says, “Yea, who are we kidding?  The dude is like rated #1 handsome idol by a 100 idols.  You know that’s some shit.”

“That’s some shit.” he agrees.

There’s a moment of quiet before Yibo looks up and asks, “My next free weekend, I’m flying to the Clouds.”

“You’re not.” he says, trying to pull back.

Yibo won’t let go though.  “You owe me.” he says instead.

“For what?”

“For giving up your apartment.  I was hoping being there could bring back some of my memories, you know.  I’ve spent so much time there.”

He goes quiet at that, the brief lull of the last half hour breaking at the reminder of their new reality.

“What memories did you think you lost there?”  he asks.

Yibo considers this.  And then says, “I don’t know. Maybe at least the answer to how I hurt you.  I know I like to pick fights with you and stuff.  Did we get physical?  Did I knock you out or something in a fight?”

“Pfft.”  He shakes his head, “As if you could.”

“Oh, I definitely could.”  Yibo says.  And then adds, “So it isn’t that.”

“It isn’t anything, Yibo. I don’t want you to get migraines again trying to remember things that are inconsequential.”

“What’s inconsequential where you’re concerned?”  Yibo asks, matter-of-factly.

He closes his eyes then and prays for perseverance.  He is starting to see that this is not Yibo’s older more mature cousin.  This is the same Yibo, just as potent as before, with a more defined jawline.

“If you don’t want to tell me, that’s ok. I’ll find out from Ji Li or Ziyi, now that I know that they know.  Be prepared for me to show up randomly at your doorstep one day.”

“Don’t do that.” he says immediately. 

Yibo’s face falls.

“Call me ahead of time so that I can at least get an airbed.”

Yibo’s face brightens again as he hugs him close.  “Don’t tell my parents, ok?”  he asks.  And a moment later with a look to the bedroom door.  “Don’t tell yours either.”

                                                                            xxxxxxxxxxx

Chapter Text

Yibo has a new number in Korea.  The old number is still connected, just in case someone tries to reach him at the other number.  But he uses the new number for the most part. 

Which all essentially means that he gets to keep his old chat history with Yibo on his phone, untouched, like a story that stopped being updated partway through.  Except he’s the only reader.  Occasionally – and by occasionally, he really means twice a day – he likes to open it and scroll through all those last weeks of their texts back and forth.  Some are pretty explicit.  It’s not like Yibo has ever been known to hold back.  Some are so corny, it makes him tear up now.

Like, the one where Yibo had said, “You know that corny line from Jerry Maguire where the woman says something like, “You had me at hello?”  I think it’s true for me too.  I think you had me at A.”

He had sent so many shocked, throwing up, and passed-out emojis back at Yibo at that time, and then had replied, “I definitely did not have you until, “I’m bi””

Yibo had sent back a text with, “A… Bi…”   And then, another text with, “You should have told me you were bi sooner.”

“Why?  You would have immediately stopped sleeping with women to jump me?”

Yibo’s reply had been just, “Yes.”

“How can you be so sure?  Sometimes it has to be the right time.”

“Maybe for you.  For me, you’re always the right time.”  Yup, that’s how corny that Yibo had been. 

He reads those words now, tracing his fingers feather-light over the screen as if his touch could bring that Yibo back, even for a moment.

He switches over to the most recent texts and it is all Yibo’s silly memes and jokes.  And also non-proprietary dance clips.  They are quite short, but he appreciates them nevertheless. 

“Show me a picture of your hair.  Close-up.”  he texts.

“Why?” Yibo asks.  Although in the next frame, there is a picture of his hair.  Scalp essentially.  There are no longer any bald spots. 

“Ah, you want to know if I’m still pulling out my hair.” Yibo texts again.

He sends back a little video clip of him nodding.

There’s a long delay this time around before Yibo texts back.

And this just says, “I miss you.”

He stares at that for a long while before he writes back, “I miss you too.”    In so many more ways than you miss me. 

Weeks pass like this and there are days when Yibo is so busy that the only text he sends comes at like 2 or 3 in the morning.  It’s enough though.  Everything is enough.  Having any part of him is enough on most days.

His mother notices the change in him, although he can tell that she has no idea what has caused it or is causing it.  He hopes she chalks it up to his gradual recovery from the magical mist of the Clouds.  And to avoid any suspicion, he occasionally makes sure to ask about how Yibo is doing. 

Yibo seems to be doing his part as well to throw Mrs. Wang off his trail, as he is careful to not make it seem like he has become his old self overnight.   He has managed to convince Mr. Wang to return to China.  Which is fortunate, because otherwise, there is no way Yibo would be able to keep up the pretense.  Prevarication and concealment are not his forte. 

And finally, almost 7 weeks after that night in his bedroom at his parents’ house, Yibo shows up for a visit.  With no warning.  Just appears one Friday night outside his apartment. 

He’s so startled that he thinks he has started hallucinating again.  That he has missed Yibo so much that his mind is once again supplying him with what he wants to see rather than what is there.  And so he blinks twice and closes the door.  He stands against it, his heart hammering high in his chest.  And then hears Yibo’s voice, softer than usual. “I’m sorry for coming without letting you know.  If you have company, I can come back another time.”

He opens the door immediately. 

There’s a hesitant expression on Yibo’s face and it makes him throw his arms around Yibo’s neck, hugging him tight.  “Sorry, I… just wasn’t sure you were real.” he gets out in a rush.  When he feels his eyes fill, he hugs Yibo even tighter so that he won’t have to pull back until his eyes are clear again.  Yibo squeezes back tightly, dropping his bag.

“You’ve gotten so skinny.”  Yibo whispers in his ear. 

“Hm… so have you.”  he says when he pulls back, smiling.

“Yea, but I create dance routines for absolutely insane and sadistic people who I suspect may really be superior machines pretending to be humans.  What’s your excuse?”  Yibo asks, as he picks up his bag again to come inside.

He’s saved from answering when Yibo looks around the apartment and says, “Wow, this is nice.   Bigger than the other one.”

“Benefits of living outside of civilization.” he says, grabbing Yibo’s bag to take it to the bedroom.

When he returns to the living room, Yibo is standing by the window there, looking out.   The view of the mountain range in the distance is pretty spectacular, especially in the mornings when the mist looks like the top of the mountains have disappeared into the clouds.

“How did you even find this place?”  Yibo asks, leaning on the heels of his palms against the ledge there.

For a moment, his mind flashes back to the last time they had stood near a window.  It had been in the wee hours of the morning just before Yibo had left for the airport to go to Japan.

He had seen Yibo out the door and had come back inside and had gone to the window to look outside to watch him come out of the building, but a moment later, Yibo had come back inside and backed him against the same window to kiss him.  It had been a burst of passion that had ended in a bittersweet tenderness, the sort of kiss where he had wanted to pull Yibo back and ask him not to leave. 

Which, in hindsight…

He sees them against the windowsill now, those last moments with his Yibo, when the real one turns around. 

For a moment, the longing is too strong to push away completely, and he stares.  Then he reminds himself to blink.  When he’s sure that he’s back in the present, he smiles.

Yibo doesn’t smile back right away and he worries that maybe Yibo had seen what had been in his eyes. 

There’s a three-second delay, enough to make him more nervous, but then Yibo does smile. 

He breathes a sigh of relief and reminds himself to get it together.  And not risk losing Yibo again.

He heats up some leftovers for Yibo and watches him eat with a sort of satisfaction that he had not realized that he missed.

When Yibo yawns, he tells him that the bed is ready inside the bedroom and gets his airbed out to inflate it.  He had slept on it almost the entire time his mother had been here and found it comfortable enough.

“I’ll take the airbed.”  Yibo calls out from the bathroom where he’s washing up.

He waits until Yibo comes out changed into his pajamas before he answers. “I’m used to sleeping on this.  My mom was here for almost two months and I slept on it the whole time.”

When there is silence, he turns to Yibo and sees that he is watching him with that inscrutable gaze.  He raises an eyebrow, expecting Yibo to resist.  The Yibo who has the memories that this Yibo does has only ever slept in the same bed as him.  But he has a good enough excuse now.  His actual bed is not a queen anymore, it’s just a twin, and so, there’s really no room for two people.

Surprisingly, Yibo doesn’t resist.  Instead, he helps him put on the sheets and pillow cover before going in to sleep in his room.  On his bed.

And he can’t help but wonder whether Yibo has already started to sense how he feels and is discomfited by it.   It makes his chest feel heavy and he rubs it a bit to ease its pressure as he tries to fall asleep.

A whole weekend of this may become torturous.   But at the same time, he wouldn’t exchange being able to have Yibo to himself for even a few hours for anything else.  He could figure out how to control himself.

He falls into an uneasy sleep hours later and wakes up feeling like he has hardly slept. 

He gets started on breakfast in case Yibo wakes early, although he hardly knows what hours Yibo keeps now. 

And he realizes that for the first time in his life, there are large vacuums of information where he used to know everything about Yibo. 

He makes an omelet just to be on the safe side.  Just as he’s finishing up, Yibo wakes up.  It’s barely 7 am.  This is the earliest Yibo has ever woken on his own without needing to catch a flight. 

When Yibo comes into the kitchen, his body goes into a sort of hypervigilant mode, expecting Yibo to hug him from the back like he always did, and not knowing how to respond. 

Except Yibo doesn’t. 

Yibo stands near him, leaning against the counter, watching him plate the omelet and get started on the next one, talking about how much he’s missed his cooking.

He listens with half an ear, now wondering if his hug yesterday had given him away.  Because it occurs to him now that Yibo has likely guessed his feelings.  Yibo has never gone this long without touching him. 

There’s something like a weakness that spreads through his palm and fingers at the realization and he focuses on the pan so that his hands won’t shake. 

He wonders whether this means Yibo will leave earlier than he planned to.  Maybe today itself. 

If Yibo had told him ahead of time that he was coming, he could have prepared himself better.  He wouldn’t have given himself away and made things so uncomfortable.

“Xiao Zhan?” he hears and looks at Yibo in question.

“Sorry?” he asks.

“You want to go for a walk?” Yibo asks.

“Oh sure.” he nods, giving Yibo his plate.  “You can eat.  Don’t wait for me.” 

“Why would I do that?” Yibo asks, putting his plate down and opening the cupboard to look for another plate.  He directs him to where the rest of them are Yibo says something about how he has to relearn everything.

He doesn’t remark on that, although it occurs to him that maybe when this impromptu weekend is over, there wouldn’t be any reason for Yibo to remember where the plates are.  Yibo likely won’t come again for weekends where it’s just the two of them.

His fingers feel stiff again and he massages them to get the blood to recirculate. 

Yibo stops speaking and looks at what he’s doing.  He sees him start to reach for his hands, but stop and pull back, asking instead, “You okay?”

He swallows through the lump in his throat and nods.  “Tendonitis acting up.  Not a big deal.  You go ahead and eat.  Seriously.  I’ll be right there.”

This time, Yibo doesn’t resist and carries his plate to the dining table. 

And Xiao Zhan thinks about how to get through the rest of the weekend without deteriorating into a heartbroken basket-case.   Again.

                                                                                xxxxxxx

Chapter Text

It turns out that Yibo did have to leave that afternoon.  That had been the plan all along.  He had only gotten the day off because the group that he had a session with that Saturday had had a last-minute schedule change.

“You seriously came here with one day off?” he asks during their walk.   The plane ticket, flight time, travel, etc. etc.  He looks at Yibo, stunned. “Not even a whole day too. How is that worth it?”

“To whom?” Yibo asks.  There is no humor in his voice.  He’s serious.

It shuts him up. 

They walk some more, this time in silence.  Although it doesn’t feel awkward really, because Yibo does seem like he’s truly taking in their surroundings. 

“This is an incredible place.”  he says after a while.

“I based Cloud Recesses on this place.  I had come here once during the first year of college.” he says, looking at the mountains that are covered in the early morning frost, the mist not so heavy today.

“Cloud Recesses?” Yibo asks.

He looks over, feeling a part of his heart – whatever is still left standing – softly crumble.  It’s almost like Yibo had forgotten their child.  Which he knows is silly. But Yibo had as much a part in the story’s creation as he did, which is only apparent to him now that Yibo has forgotten it.

He shakes his head.  “Nothing important.”   Because how would he even begin to explain it.  “Just a place in one of my novels.”

“The last one you wrote?”

He nods.

When he doesn’t say anything else, Yibo looks away, and he wonders if he’s disappointed that he had not shared more.

“It’s being adapted into a television series.”  he thus adds.

“Really?”  Yibo looks back. 

He nods.

“That’s incredible!” Yibo says, drawing him into a quick hug.  Which he also pulls back from without lingering.  It likely wouldn’t have struck him as odd – they’re outside, after all – if not for the fact that it came at the end of all the other non-touches. 

He shuts that part of his brain off, telling it that it can wallow and worry later, after Yibo has gone back, and looks at Yibo with a smile.

“The casting is almost done.”  He says.   “Well, with the exception of one of the leads.”  he remarks almost absently.  They had found their Wei Wuxian, a Hong Kong actor named Darren Chen.  He hasn’t seen that many of the actor’s works, but his mischievous look and dimples fit right in with Wei Ying’s playfulness.  But the other-worldliness of Lan Wangji.  The producer seems determined to cast someone who likely simply didn’t exist.  She had flat out stated that her idea of the character’s look is something specific and until she found it, she would keep on looking. “He doesn’t even have that many lines.  What he has is an aura.  When he makes his entrance, the spectator has to understand why he is who he is.  With no words, just his face and the way he carries himself.  Who has a face like that?”  she had asked. 

He had suggested a few.  There were a lot of good-looking actors.  She was not satisfied.  Not that he had not understood her discontent.  But he could have told her that the Lan Wangji she wanted simply didn’t exist.  Besides, unless they wanted to cast a certain amnesiac choreographer presently contracted to SM, there really was no perfect face.

Yibo hears the producer’s requirements now and laughs.  “Really?  Where will they find someone like that?”

“That’s what I said.”  he agrees.

“I mean, unless you want to cast Mr. aura himself, Lee fucking Taeyong.”  Yibo says casually.

It takes a moment for that sentence to penetrate and then he stops walking.

Yibo pauses after a moment, realizing that he is not next to him.

When Yibo looks back, he meets his gaze, eyes wide.

A moment later, Yibo’s eyes widen as well, “You’re not honestly thinking of… suggesting Taeyong’s name, are you?  He doesn’t act.”

“Everyone gets a start at some point.” he answers.

“He is the leader of NCT and a member of SuperM.  Every minute of his day is accounted for.”

“My producer has a lot of money.  If she likes Taeyong, she’ll figure out how to make it happen.  And she is a bit of a Fujoshi, I think.  She is quite invested in this story.” he answers, as if this is a good enough rebuttal, his producer’s fetish for gay romance.

“Fujoshi?”  Yibo asks.  “Wait, this novel is a…”  he peters off.

He stares at Yibo.  He has written about other gay relationships before.  This is not really the only one.  And so he answers, “The leads are both men.”  And then, “Why?  Is that a problem?” he asks, and it comes out colder than he intends.

That seems to take Yibo back and he shakes his head.  “No.  Of course not.  I’m just surprised that of all your novels, one with… two men is the one that’s getting picked up first to be adapted to television.  It must be exceptionally good, then.  I would have thought they would have gone with the first book from Three Lives, Three Worlds.  That seems to have all the ingredients for mass consumption.”

“Well, maybe some people are willing to take a risk on less conventional love stories.”  he says, walking ahead.  He doesn’t know why he's taking this so personally.

“Are you upset with me?”  Yibo asks, pulling back on his arm.

“No, why would I be upset with you?”  he asks, stopping.  A moment later, he looks at Yibo, getting any lingering “upset” off his face.

Yibo watches his face for a moment before he says, “I sort of missed you getting upset with me.”

His expression changes just like that, his eyes narrowing.

Yibo smiles.  “See, this right here.  This is one of your old faces.  All you give me now are these curated careful expressions that are to make sure the poor little amnesiac doesn’t flip out and go crazy from a barrage of remembrances.”

“That’s not true.” he says. Although of course it is.

“I may not remember much of the last year.  But I remember every year before that.  You think I don’t know when you’re hiding things from me?”

Yibo starts to walk away and this time it’s he who pulls Yibo back.

“Wait.  What do you think I’m hiding from you?” 

“I don’t know.” Yibo says, a bit of his frustration leaking through as he runs his hands over his face.

He moves closer and pulls Yibo’s hands away from his face.  “Hey…” he calls.

Yibo looks up.

Still holding onto Yibo’s hands, he says, “If I could just open my mind and let you read it, I would.  But I can’t do that.  So, I have to let you recall what you will when you will.  But you’ve never hurt me like you think.  Honest.” he says, clutching his throat with his fingers in promise.

Yibo watches him with narrowed eyes.

“I… just didn’t deal well with your accident.  At all.”  he admits now, looking up.

“That’s why I moved.  It was a lot to be there without you.  And I was sort of in this funk that I couldn’t get out of.  I thought a change of setting wouldn’t be such a bad idea.  And anyways, you weren’t there anymore.  And this way, I could start working on a new novel too.  That’s really all.”

“I can move back.” Yibo says.

He laughs.  “Don’t be stupid.” 

“Why is that stupid?  I can just get an apartment here.   I could live here.  I mean, look at this place.”  Yibo says now, looking off into the mountains.  “What’s not to love?”

“There are no idols living here.”  he says, smiling.   “Besides, you’re a city boy.  That’s your life.  You need to be in places where you’re the life of the party.  With lots of people around.  This will get boring after a while.”

Yibo doesn’t take that well.  “You think I’m some sort of flighty attention-seeker.”

“What? No, of course not.  I just meant that just like we have different personalities, we are also better fits for different places.   You know, you need at least a happy medium.  This…” he looks around and comes back to look at Yibo.  “will become too quiet for you.”

Yibo stares at him for a moment before pulling his hands out of his hold.  He hadn’t realized he had still been holding on and lets go immediately.  That too gets Yibo’s notice.  And now Yibo’s expression is closed off when he says, “Maybe you don’t know me as well as you think.”

Yibo is silent for the rest of the walk and he thinks of what to say to break through it, but cannot think past the fact that even though this Yibo is a lot like the old Yibo, there are changes too.  He can’t quite put his finger on it, but there’s something different.  It’s not a personality change, as much as it is a… he doesn’t know.

By the time they get back, Yibo only has time for lunch before he has to leave.   He thinks that maybe Yibo will leave early because he is upset and prepares himself for it, feeling so many things inside that he doesn’t know how to stop what.

But Yibo doesn’t.  Instead, Yibo plops himself on the couch with the tv remote when they get home and it’s with some sort of relief that he goes to the kitchen to make lunch. 

When the soup is simmering on the stove, he comes back into the living room and notices that Yibo has his phone in hand.  He didn’t know he had left it on the table.  Without thinking about it, he leaps onto Yibo to grab the phone from him.  Yibo is startled at first, although he instinctively holds the phone out of his reach. 

If he thinks with any functioning part of his brain, he would know that Yibo cannot actually get into his phone without his password, but in that moment, all he thinks of is his chat history and of Yibo somehow coming across it.  His eagerness to get the phone out of his hand only seems to egg Yibo on and before long they tussle enough to fall off the couch, Yibo on top of him.

Yibo is laughing, but his expression freezes when he sees Yibo’s face this close up.  Hearing his silence, Yibo looks down into his face, and as he watches, Yibo’s smile disappears.  He tries to hold himself entirely still, although he can hardly hear anything other than his heart pounding in his ears as he takes in Yibo’s features one by one.  For one startling moment, his gaze falls to Yibo’s lips and he thinks he almost leans up to kiss them.   He catches himself at the last minute though and says, “my phone” and grabs it from Yibo’s hand.   

Yibo seems confused for a moment, but then his eyes widen and he moves off of him and Xiao Zhan sits up. 

“I’m sure the soup is ready.”  he says, moving back to get up.

Lunch is filled with an awkward silence, although Yibo finishes all of it.  

And then it’s time for him to leave.

Against his will, he stops Yibo as he is walking out the door and asks, “When will I see you again?”

He wonders if Yibo will offer a vague answer or whether he will answer at all.  But he still has to know.  Just so his chest won’t give out from the anxiety of not knowing if he has messed things up irreversibly. 

“I don’t have another actual weekend off for another two months, but if something like what happened this weekend happens again, sooner?”  Yibo says.

He’s so taken aback that it takes him a moment to recover and ask, “Wait, you… want to come back here?” he points his index finger down for emphasis.

“Where else would I go to see you?”  Yibo asks.

“Maybe back home…” he says.

“With our parents around?” Yibo asks.

“With our friends around.”  he answers.  Yibo is now back in touch with their friends - since that day in his parents’ home, actually - and now regularly responds to the group chat.

“Why?  You don’t want me to come back here?”  Yibo asks instead.

“Why were you looking at my phone?”  he asks instead of answering the question.

“Your lock-screen.”  Yibo says.

“What’s my…” he starts and then he remembers.

His lock-screen in a picture of Yibo.  Standing on the couch in his old apartment lip-syncing to NCT’s Boss from that night when Taeyong had given him a shout-out on vlive.

“You don’t remember, but that was the night when Taeyong did a vlive and gave you a shout-out and changed your entire life.”  he says now with a smile.

Yibo doesn’t smile, but says, “No, my entire life changed when I woke up in a hospital not knowing what happened between us for an entire year.”

Before he can reply, Yibo grabs his bag and leaves. 

But he can’t let him leave with that and he goes after Yibo and pulls him back.  Yibo’s gaze is vulnerable now and Xiao Zhan hugs him, softly enough so that Yibo can push him away if he wants to. 

“Thank you.  For coming.  And I’m sorry.  If I did something that upset you.”

Yibo stands frozen in his hold and he thinks he should have let well enough be, pulling back.

“Text me when you get back, ok?” he asks.

Yibo’s gaze is a long intense one, but then he nods and leaves.

                                                                               xxxxxxxxxxx

Chapter Text

Yibo doesn’t get any time off until 8 weeks later and that weekend, he does come, but so does the rest of the gang, Ziyi’s birthday being the occasion to celebrate all together after a long while.  In preparation, he gets one more air bed, this time a queen size, inflates it and leaves it in the living room, along with the twin one.  This way, the girls can squeeze onto his bed in the bedroom, and he and Ji Li can take the twin airbed and Haikuan, Yu Bin, and Yibo can take queen-size one.  Although, as the airbeds will be pushed together, really it wouldn’t matter, as it will be the five of them squeezed onto the space one way or the other. 

Yibo’s flight is a late one that Friday, and he won’t get in until past 2 in the morning.  The rest of them come together on the train and get in shortly after 10.  They are tired and grateful for the meal that he has prepared and it’s not long before they all crawl off to bed.  By the time he cleans up in the kitchen and comes back, he sees that Haikuan, Yu Bin, and Ji Li have taken the queen-size airbed, Ji Li clearly not paying attention to his direction to sleep on the twin.

After everyone sleeps, he stays up and makes Yibo’s favorite soup, which is light enough that it won’t upset his stomach even if he’s going to have it in the wee hours of the morning.  Although when he’s almost done with cooking, it occurs to him that, of course, Yibo would have already eaten on the plane, or at least at the airport.  He’s not going to eat at 2 in the morning.   He feels a bit of a fool as he moves the finished soup to cool on the counter.

He knows he won’t sleep, so he works on his laptop, sitting on the floor in the kitchen.  There’s literally no room elsewhere in the apartment.

Yibo’s text comes a little past 2:00 saying that he’s at his door.

He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath to calm himself.  They’ve texted each other since Yibo’s last visit, but it didn’t have the easy back and forth that their previous texts did.  Yibo didn’t send anymore silly memes, although he still sent a text at least every other day.  He replied to all of them, and tried to engage Yibo more, although sometimes it wasn’t all that successful.  Especially since sometimes Yibo tended to answer open-ended questions with the shortest answer possible.  And then he wasn’t all that sure that he wasn’t just bothering Yibo with his texts.  If he backed off for a day, Yibo would inevitably respond with another one.  Which essentially meant that he was left confused as to whether he was overstepping his bounds or whether Yibo was simply too busy to answer to anything at length.  There are no more dance clips or any other videos.  He had looked forward to them.  He wanted to ask Yibo why he didn’t send them anymore, but wondered if that would make it even more weird between them. 

“Hey…” he says now, letting Yibo in.

He looks fatigued as he returns the greeting.

“Did you eat?” he asks as he starts to take the bag from Yibo’s arm.  But Yibo holds onto it and he pulls his hand back, feeling self-conscious.

“Sorry.” He says as he walks back in, letting Yibo follow him in before waiting to close the door.

“I have some soup if you’re hungry.”  he says.  Yibo shakes his head.

Okay.  Yea, that should have been expected.

He points out the airbed and Yibo nods and goes to the bathroom to wash up and change.

He stays in the kitchen until he hears Yibo come out and get into bed.  Then he shuts the lamp in the living room off and returns to the kitchen.   He doesn’t think Yibo will sleep if he got into bed right now.  And either way, he doesn’t think Yibo will appreciate it if he finds them next to each other in the morning. 

He opens up his laptop, sitting back down on the kitchen floor, and works on it for a bit longer as he thinks of where to sleep.  His living room furniture are a love seat and two arm chairs, hardly accommodating his length.  Alternatively, it’s past 3 in the morning; he could simply not sleep.  It wasn’t that long till the sun came up.  But then he would be a zombie tomorrow and he didn’t want that. 

Eventually, he ends up getting a spare sheet and pillow and sleeping next to the airbed rather than on it.  Yibo is asleep by the time he puts his sheet down and for that he’s glad.  He sleeps, but as expected, not restfully, and his back protests the sleeping arrangement when he wakes in the morning, which fortunately is before everyone else.

He had honestly not known what to expect from his weekend.  Well, he had actually been looking forward to it, having everyone together and all… although now it’s a wonder to him why he didn’t anticipate that it would be weird between him and Yibo.  It would be weirder still because everyone else would know that things are weird between them if things continued in this manner.

He starts on breakfast as he thinks of how to get through the weekend.  It’s just two days.  He could do it.  One hour at a time.  Besides, there is plenty of distraction with everyone else being here.  And then, if things really did seem like Yibo wanted nothing more to do with him, he could figure out what to do about that then…  After the weekend is over.

Lulu wakes up shortly afterwards and comes in to help him. 

He’s glad that she doesn’t really try to make conversation at the outset, just getting started on the coffee and the sides.  Eventually though, she passes him a cup of black with just a dash of milk (no sugar, weirdly enough that’s how he liked it for all his other bakery preferences) and gets one for herself as she comes over to stand next to him.

“How are you doing?” she asks.

He nods with a smile.  “Not bad.”

“Does he remember…” she starts and he shakes his head. 

She stops.  And then tilts her head.  “Are you going to tell…”

He shakes his head again.

“Do you think…” she lets this one linger.

He raises an eyebrow in question. 

“You don’t think you should talk to him about it?” she asks.

He gives a short little laugh.  “And say what?  You think you’re straight, but once upon a time, for a few brief weeks before the accident, you were not?”

He is thankful she doesn’t try to refute the logic of that statement.  But he still adds, “Besides, I think he may have an inkling already about how I feel about him.  And I think it makes him uncomfortable.”

She tilts her head, surprise showing on her face, but then rubs his arm up and down.  “I’m sure you’re overthinking.”

She revises her opinion about halfway through the day and gives him a pitiful look when Yibo subtly changes seats during lunch time so that they won’t be next to each other.  He doesn’t think anyone else really noticed – even Ji Li is distracted by Ziyi yelling at something on TV – but Lulu sends him a brief look. He pretends to not see it and tells himself that it’s only another 36 or so hours more to go. 

Afternoon finds them all piled into the same room, some napping off lunch and some tuned into some game on tv.  Yibo is lying on Lulu’s lap watching the game, although she is absently playing with his hair while scrolling through her phone. 

As he has no interest in the game and even though he thinks he could really use a nap, that’s unlikely to happen, he finds a corner in the room and sits there with his laptop for a while, scrolling through his email.  He had suggested Taeyong’s name to the producer, who had initially dismissed the idea with, “Way too k-pop to be Lan Wangji.”  She had then gone and YouTubed his performances and had written back, “Way too intense to be Lan Wangji.   Have you seen him on stage?  I mean, how would we even reel him in?”  And then she watched a ton of NCT Life videos and had written, “Okay, he is a little too cute to be Lan Wangji.  Like, he talks to tiny frogs like they’re his kids or something, you know?  That’s not normal.”  He had written back and reminded her that Lan Wangji too had a soft spot for animals.  To which she had written back, “Yes, cute bunnies.  Not, miniature green slimy amphibians.  There’s a veritable ocean between cute and gross.”  And then another completely unsolicited email in which she said, “Besides, he cooks and cleans his place like an anal-retentive person and takes care of an entire brood of adolescent boys.  How is that Lan Wangji?” Before he had had to write a response to that, she had emailed and said, “Okay, yes, never mind, I see how that could be Lan Wangji.” And then yet another one, “He’s only 5’9” and way too skinny.  Darren is like 3 inches taller than him.  Lan Wangji is supposed to be taller and buffer than Wei Wuxian.”  He wanted to write back and tell her to pick a side.  Face or Body. Body was easier to come by than Face.  Face, you either had it or you didn’t.  He didn’t have to say anything, because her next email said, “Okay, the costume designer thinks skinny is definitely the way to go.  These costumes are positively lethal on normal people.  And we can outfit him with some heels to give height.  You can’t see his shoes under the robes anyways.”  The last email had been.  “So, I saw him in person.  From afar.  Went to one of the NCT concerts to see what the fuss is all about.”  And then, “You did not tell me this boy doesn’t actually look like a real human being in person.  I feel like I should cast him for the Donghua.”  It’s just free association for her at this point.  He hardly has to say anything.  She’s fighting an internal battle where she can’t quite settle on Taeyong, but she also can't let him go.  Even with all her hang-ups about Taeyong, this is the longest she’s been stuck on anyone for Lan Wangji.  He reminds her in an email now that this is all a moot point if she doesn’t run the whole thing by Taeyong and SM.  They could plan all they want, if SM had no interest in loaning out one of their top artists to star in a gay romance – ahem, bromance – for a Chinese television series, it’s not going anywhere anyways. 

Ziyi comes out from the bedroom then, decked out already in black leather pants and a silver silk halter, and gives everyone the one-hour warning.  They have to leave in an hour to head to a quick dinner and then the final destination for the night, some club right next to the restaurant that promises to have people.  That’s all they can hope for around here.  Given where he lives, the restaurant/club situation is a half hour away at least and they’ll have to take a cab. 

Yibo lifts his head off of Lulu’s lap and whines that he’s so tired that he’ll have to be carried there, to which Ziyi replies, “You’ll go if I’ve to carry you there my damn self.  It was a pain to get into these pants and, by the mother of dragons, I’m not taking them off until I’m well and good and 25.  Which is in another oh, 6 and half hours.  So, come on!”  And then she adds, “Besides, you have the best luck when it comes to clubbing.  I mean, the last time we went out when you thought you were gay, you managed to meet the whole fucking lot of NCT!”

For a moment, a silence falls over the room.  The only thing to be heard is the TV.  And then he sees Yibo sit up from Lulu’s lap and look at Ziyi.

Even from this corner, he can see Ziyi’s shocked expression. 

“When I thought I was what?” Yibo asks now.

There is a moment of uncertainty that he can see on Ziyi’s face, as she figures out what to do, and then a moment later, her expression clears and she leaves the panic behind, now grinning at Yibo.

“Yea, boy.  Greatest mystery of the Universe.  One day you randomly announced that it had occurred to you that you were withholding your magnificence from one entire half of the population, an oversight you were determined to correct posthaste.  And so yea.  We devised a whole trip to the marvel known as Shalimar, courtesy of the most awesome, Ji Li.”  She winks at Ji Li now, who winks back, before turning back to Yibo.  “And as they say, the rest is history.”

“What history?”  Yibo asks.

“What do you mean, what history?  We went out.  Had a grand old time. Met NCT.  Got fucking trashed, all of us.  Well, all of us, except Xiao Zhan.  Because you know, how would he get drunk when you were so fucking gone.  So yea, the night ended prematurely for your gay-novice-ass.   And the only one who actually got to take you home was your best friend. Sadly.   I really thought you would hook up with Taeyong.  Or Ten.  Hell, Yuta was so cute too, although he was a bit too into Mark.  So maybe not…”

He generally appreciates Ziyi’s candor, but this speech she has decided to launch into willy-nilly is twisting his insides into a pretzel.

“But I went home with…” Yibo prompts.

And Ziyi nods, shrugging.  “Yea, you got shit-faced half way through, and poor Zhan Zhan had to take you home.  A very anticlimactic end to your gay expedition.”  She shakes her head now in recollection.

He looks around notices that everyone who had been listening has now relaxed because Yibo still seems okay.  He didn’t realize how everyone had been walking on eggshells trying to figure out what was okay to talk about and what was not.  Although, it occurs to him that that is stupid.  Other than sensitive issues – and by that, he means, solely the secret that he has to keep – everything else was fair game.  If it helped Yibo connect the dots, all the better that it’s done with them all around to take care of him.

“Was it?” he hears and it takes him a moment to realize that the question is directed at him.  His gaze swings to Yibo, who is looking at him directly for the first time today.

“Was it what?” he asks.

“An anticlimactic end to my gay expedition?”  Yibo asks.   His expression is entirely neutral.  It is neither jovial, nor serious.

How does he expect him to answer this? And that too, in front of everyone.

And so, he nods.  “Quite.” 

He notices that Yibo stares at him some more, and looks down at his laptop, putting his glasses back on.

The conversation then shifts to other things, this subject left behind.  And he’s glad. 

Yibo doesn’t seem to care one way or the other as they’re getting dressed and then they’re piled into two cabs and headed to the restaurant.  Yibo is in the other cab, which is fine.  Lulu is next to him in this one, as is Yu Bin, and he exhales after what feels like all day.

For dinner, Yibo is seated the farthest from him as humanly possible and it turns out to be a good decision on Yibo’s part because he is relaxed and back to his old self, goofing around with Ziyi and the rest of them.

It’s the most fun they’ve all had in a while, and despite how he feels inside, it makes him glad to see everyone together again, just like they used to be.

Afterwards, they cut a little cake for Ziyi at the restaurant – he had baked one the day before and had asked the restaurant to bring it out at the end – and have a drink at the restaurant’s bar before making their way over to the club.   

He’s not in the mood to dance, and so he hangs out at their table, while at least one of them is with him at all times, taking their turns on the dance floor.  Ziyi and Yibo only come back for drinks and he hardly sees either of them for most of the night.  When he does finally return, Yibo is quite drunk and leaning on Ziyi, who sits him down carefully. 

“This boy is a lightweight.  The amnesia has lessened your tolerance, dude.  You need to catch back up.” she says before looking over in his direction.  “Zhan Zhan, keep an eye on him.  He is way more gone than he seems.”

He nods and watches Ziyi leave.

Yibo doesn’t even acknowledge him, much less talk to him, and for a moment, it’s too much to pretend to be okay with.  He flags down Yubin and makes him sit with Yibo before he excuses himself to the restroom.

Even though he is not as drunk as the rest of them, he’s been drinking too and feels the alcohol close to his skin, rubbing him raw. When he sees his eyes fill in the mirror, he wipes it away quickly before turning to leave.  When he opens the bathroom door though, Yibo stumbles in, closing the door behind him.

He reaches out to steady him, but Yibo pulls away and he takes his hand back.

“You okay?  Should I get one of the other guys for you?”  he asks, moving back so Yibo doesn’t feel crowded.

Yibo shakes his head and walks over to the sink, his gait not the steadiest.

He watches Yibo stand at the sink, staring down into it without moving, and has had enough.  He goes over to turn the faucet on, saying, “I won’t touch you, don’t worry.  I’m just turning the water on for you.” 

It barely gets a response as Yibo washes his hands and then he shuts off the tap and passes him a paper towel, walking back to the door afterwards to wait for him to come back.  Yibo does walk back to the door, but then just stands in front of it without pushing it open.

“Do you need help?” he asks, reaching around gingerly to try to get it open without getting too close.

At which point, Yibo finally turns in his direction and says, “Stop acting like a martyr.”

“What?” he asks in surprise.

“Stop doing whatever it is you’re doing. It makes me feel awful.”

“How do you want me to act?”  he asks, pulling back.

“I don’t know.  Not like this. As if you’re this long-suffering lead of your own novel putting up with all this bullshit from someone needlessly torturing you.”

That gets him finally pissed off.  And he says, “Then stop acting like an asshole.”

“I’m acting like an asshole?”  Yibo asks, pointing at himself, turning fully to face him.

“Isn’t that what you literally just said?”  he asks, getting heated.

“How am I acting like an asshole?”  Yibo asks again as if he didn’t hear his question.

“It’s clear that you have some sort of aversion to being near me, much more so than the last time you visited.  I’m not really sure what I did wrong, but if you can’t stand being near me, then I can only help it so much as you’re staying at my place for the weekend.  But once you go back, just cut me off.  Don’t torture yourself by doing things that you don’t want to do.”

He sees Yibo’s nostrils flare.   “Oh, you think I should only do things I want to do.”

“Yes!”  he says, feeling irate that he has to affirm the obvious. 

He doesn’t get too much of a warning before Yibo is on him, pushing him back against the wall behind him and crowding into him. 

“What…” his voice drops to a whisper as he catches Yibo’s eyes.  They are…

“Fuck, this is what I want to do, okay?  I’m not exactly sure why.  Ever since that night in your parents’ house, it started, but it was so weird and hazy, I just chalked it up to my excitement at seeing you again.  But when I came to visit the last time…”  There is a pause and even in the dim light of the bathroom, he can see Yibo’s pupils dilate.   A moment later, Yibo’s face falls into the curve of his neck.  There is a groan as Yibo says, “I feel weird things.  Like your smell.  It’s making me crazy.”  Yibo turns his head slightly now and he can feel just a brush of Yibo’s lips against his neck.  His breath stutters. 

“I want to kiss you.  Bite you here.”  Yibo stops and there is a long pause before he says, “fuck…”

And another long tense moment before Yibo gives in and presses his lips into the fluttering pulse along the side of his neck.

Goosebumps break out everywhere simultaneously and his head falls back, a bitten out moan escaping his lips.

Yibo pulls back, his expression stunned, and he whispers, “You like it?” 

He’s afraid to say anything to kill the moment, and so he looks back, willing Yibo to see what he will in his eyes.

Yibo holds his gaze for a long moment, and then there’s a hoarse, “oh fuck…” and presses against him, arms going around his waist as he fits their lips together, slanting it and immediately trying to get inside to touch his tongue.

Within moments, he can feel it, Yibo’s hard against him and it’s all he can do to not moan out loud at how his entire body responds.

Yibo pulls back from the kiss and buries his head in his neck as he says, “Fuck, I can’t even think about you without starting to get hard.  What the fuck…. Do you like it too?  Tell me if you don’t.  I need to know.”

In answer, he pulls Yibo’s head back up from his neck and kisses him again, pulling back by gently sucking on his lower lip.  He can feel Yibo get harder against him and whispers, “I love everything you do…”

It takes a moment, but then Yibo asks, hesitantly, “Then… have we done this before?” 

He leans forward to kiss Yibo again and Yibo opens his mouth automatically, taking him in.  When he pulls back, he says, “Many times…”

Yibo’s eyes widen at that.  “You mean… we were…”

He swallows with difficulty before he nods.   “Together.”

“Like this?”  Yibo asks, dropping his head again to nuzzle his neck.

“Hm…” he answers, his eyes closing.

The bathroom door opens then and Yibo instinctively moves in front of him to protect him from being seen.  Whoever entered doesn’t seem to care as they go straight to a stall.

It’s a reminder enough of where they are and he pulls back from Yibo. 

Yibo’s eyes are clearer now than they were before and he looks into them as he asks, “Are you too drunk to remember this conversation?” 

“Fuck no.”  Yibo says, belligerently.  “I’ve never sobered up this quickly in my entire fucking life.” 

The bathroom door opens again and they’re glad that they are standing separately because it’s Yubin, who scans the space, finds them and says, “Oh thank God, he’s here.  They’re both here.  Dear God, thought I lost you.  They were all ready to murder me.”

He sends one more look in Yibo’s direction before turning to Yubin.  “The taps were not working.  It’s all good now.”

When he walks out of the bathroom with the both of them following behind, he bites down on his lips so he won’t give into the urge to smile.   And he hopes to God that Yibo is right and that he is sober enough to not forget.  Again.

                                                                             xxxxxx

Chapter Text

Everyone’s beat and ready to go when he gets back and they call two cabs again, this time, Yibo climbing in right after him.  Lulu shoots a look in his direction as she climbs in after Yibo.   

It’s a tight squeeze, all the more because he’s aware of every part of Yibo that’s brushing against him.  Yibo actually does fall asleep on Lulu’s shoulder and she looks at him over Yibo’s sleeping head, tilting her head up in question.

He shakes his head.

He doesn’t know how she interprets it, but she doesn’t question him further.  He’s glad. Because he’s still not sure that Yibo will remember in the morning. 

When they get home and after everyone washes up and gets in bed, he feels okay enough to take the end of the bed right next to Yibo.  He still leaves enough room between them in the event all has been forgotten in the morning, but he thinks at least being on the bed won’t be a source of distress.

He wakes when it’s still barely light outside, feeling Yibo’s curled up form behind him, his head against his shoulder blades.  He turns around to face him, wanting to just look at him up close.  It’s been so long since he’s been allowed… 

Yibo is gorgeous awake and animated, but he seems entirely childlike and innocent when he sleeps, except the almost sensual pout to his lips that’s permanently there in repose.  He thinks back to how many hours they’ve spent just kissing during those weeks, eager to explore each other, greedy to feel feel and feel again. 

He watches Yibo’s face now, his gaze slipping to his lips, and wonders if last night would also slip out of his memories again. 

He wishes to go back to last night again and have Yibo crowd him in that dim corner, and for a moment quell this perpetual hunger that’s always gnawing at his insides… that’s been there since the first time they kissed… since forever. 

He is watching Yibo’s lips so intently that it takes him a bit to notice that Yibo’s eyes are half open.  He can’t see them properly with how Yibo’s face is turned, but he can tell that those lashes are halfway up.  Before he can look away, Yibo raises his gaze to find his.  He is startled to be caught staring, especially with how much yearning must show in his eyes now, and starts to lower his gaze when he notices the awareness in Yibo’s. 

Yibo does remember.  At least yesterday.  The rest of it may likely be gone forever, but at least yesterday, he remembers.

They stay there like that for ages, the dawn breaking slowly outside, only their gazes touching as if it could fill in all the gaps for the last six months, the past year, and all the years beyond.

In one of those moments, he thinks he falls in love with this new Yibo too, the one who had only had his body to guide him back to here.  The one who had had to exercise restraint in a way his previous version had never had to.

Okay fine, get this out of your system.  Because whether you like it or not, I’m the endgame.  How confidently Yibo had said that once. 

But this one, this one who had what seemed like months of struggle trying to reconcile what his body told him and what his head told him, Xiao Zhan finds that he is in love with this one too…

Even now, he watches Yibo’s eyes and he can see it.  Not remembering how well someone knew your body… Not remembering how well you knew theirs.  

It catches him by surprise when Yibo brings his finger up to his face to trace the underside of his lower lip, just over the tiny mole there.   His touch is barely a stroke, but everything inside him turns molten as his eyes close and the memories of all those times Yibo had kissed or licked there come back.  Sometimes Yibo would bite him so hard in just that spot in the throes of a climax that his lips would be tender for days afterwards.   

They had had a bit of an obsession with each other’s lips.

They hear the bedroom door open suddenly and he moves his lips over the pad of Yibo's index finger to drop a kiss there.  He catches Yibo’s startled expression as he gets off the bed and walks over to the kitchen. 

Lulu is up already, wanting to get started on breakfast.  She ushers him to go back to bed, but of course he’ll hear of no such thing.  They have to leave immediately after breakfast for the train station.  Yibo’s flight is not until 2, buying him a few more hours.

Shortly thereafter, it’s madness, what with everyone trying to stagger their bathroom time, but by the time breakfast is done, the chaos is over and everyone’s ready.  And then the five of them pile into a cab and are gone.

When he shuts the door and turns around, Yibo is right behind.  He watches as Yibo leans back against the wall of the hallway, his hands crossed behind at his back, one knee bent.  He looks like he’s lounging, except his eyes flicker from uncertain to vulnerable.  In the light of day and without the alcohol dulling his inhibitions, he has no memory to fall back on about how to start. 

And so he moves forward and presses his lips against Yibo’s.

Yibo exhales a sort of pent-up breath before his hands uncross from the back and come around his waist, pulling him close.

It’s been too long, his hands and lips and teeth and tongue and skin all decide simultaneously, pulling on Yibo’s lower lip and sucking on it, his fingers climbing into his hair.

There are only noises of their breathing then as he feels Yibo’s hands slip under his t-shirt and drag over his back, pressing him close.

“Fuck, I missed you so much…” he whispers when Yibo’s mouth leaves a line of hickeys down his neck.

That makes Yibo pause at his neck and then pull back to look at him.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”  he asks.

“Tell you what?”  he asks.  Not that he doesn’t know.

“This… that we were like this…” Yibo motions between them, even as his arms tighten around his waist.

“You had forgotten.”  he says simply.  “And… it was still so new… I didn’t really know how to…”

Yibo’s eyes go soft at that, although he waits for him to say more. 

And so he does.  “You were coming to see me…”

Yibo raises an eyebrow.

He inhales for strength before he remembers.  “That morning.  You had taken the earlier flight out of Japan.  I had sent you a text.  And you were coming to see me on your bike rather than wait until after you slept.”

It was a guilt that he had had a long time to mull over, back and forth and back and forth.  He shouldn’t have sent that last text…

It takes Yibo a moment to understand the implication.  And he asks, “You blame yourself for a drunk-driver?”

He shakes his head.  That part he knew was not within his control.  Or Yibo’s.   “I… just missed you.  I must have known when I sent that text that you would come to me right away.”  A moment later, he looks up and says, “I just feel like I became a bit too greedy. And then got punished for it.”

Yibo doesn’t hear any of it.  If he does, it only filters down, “You wanted me that much?”  It’s a whisper.

“I want you even more.”  he says now, a whisper back, leaning in to kiss him again.   “So much more…” he adds when he pulls back.

Yibo’s pupils are fully blown out by now, although rather than move back in for kiss, he is content to simply stare into his eyes.

There’s so much desire there though, it’s all he can do not to lean in to kiss Yibo again.

But he refrains and waits for Yibo to speak.  And he does, “Sometimes in my dreams, I get glimpses of doing so many things to your body…”

“You do?” he asks, interrupting.

“Yea, but I can’t tell if they’re just my own fantasies or actual memories.”

“Tell me.”

There is a moment of hesitation and he’s so not used to that in Yibo that it makes him want to be the shameless one.

“The first time we got together, we spent almost two whole days in bed.” he starts.

Yibo’s eyes turn to him, startled.

He nods.  “We’ve made love on practically every flat surface in my apartment.”

He can feel Yibo’s hardness against him now and rubs against it unconsciously. 

Yibo groans and drops his face into his neck.  And he whispers, slipping his hands under the back of Yibo’s shirt.   “I’ve been inside you.  You’ve been inside me.  I’ve sucked you off while you sat against that ledge in my old kitchen.  You have pulled me on top of you on that recliner of yours and let me ride you while you held me close and teased my nipple with your tongue.”  his eyes close and his voice is husky as the memories sift through.

“Fuck…” he hears Yibo’s voice and slips his hand inside Yibo’s sweatpants. 

“Even though you occasionally like me inside you, you definitely like me riding you the best.  You like holding onto me and biting me right here,” he pulls in the side of his lip so that the little mark below shows, and then lets go to add,  “when you come.”

“You love kissing.  And leaving little marks here and there on my body that I love finding later.”

“And you love taking me in your mouth while putting your fingers inside me…. You love watching me come like that… you said you like the little noises I make when I really lose my mind because they are like tiny little turn-on bombs for you.  And you like to imagine me like that when you jerk off…”

Yibo is so hard against him by now that if he had some lube in hand, he would sink down onto his dick right now.  As it is though, he wants to drop to his knees and take Yibo in his mouth, feel the length pulsing against his tongue as he sucked him, hot and deep.

Except, Yibo drops to the floor just then and pulls him down with him.

Yibo holds his hand under his neck to tilt it back as he runs his tongue over it.  He moans out loud as he can feel Yibo’s dick press hard against his own.  He pulls off both their shirts and pulls Yibo down in the next moment to feel that heat of his skin everywhere against him.

“And you love it when I talk dirty...”  he says as Yibo pulls down the front of both of their pants to let their cocks touch.

“Fuck fuck fuck…” Yibo murmurs as he grabs both their cocks to start jerking them off together.

“Do you dream about any of this?” he asks when Yibo’s jaw starts to tighten.

“No, I dreamed of fucking you from behind while you made French toast.”  Yibo says.  He turns a startled gaze up to Yibo’s, but his eyes are closed now as he focuses on chasing the pleasure… and the memories in his dreams.  “Fuck, I don’t even like French toast, but in my dream, I was licking the syrup off your fingers as Fuck, fuck….” his head drops onto him and Xiao Zhan grabs him and turns them around so that Yibo is below him, taking over the pumping now, leaning up on the heel of one hand.

“You had the most languid expression” Yibo speaks again, and when he looks down at him, he sees that he is watching, his eyes filled with lust.  “…as if you had nowhere else to be forever other than on me...”

His lips part as he feels like he’s getting close.  And Yibo raises himself on his elbows to lick at one of his nipples before pulling the little nub into his mouth.

And he comes just like that, long ribbons of cum shooting over Yibo’s chest.  Before he can collect his breath, Yibo comes too, grunting out a, “Arrggh…..fuuuuck…”

They’re both panting at the end of it and Xiao Zhan moves off of Yibo and walks to the bathroom to get a wet towel.  He wipes Yibo’s chest down, although Yibo hardly opens his eyes through the whole of it.

When he lies back down to get a moment’s rest, Yibo finally asks, “Did my dream really happen?  Or was it just a dream?” 

He looks over at Yibo and notices that Yibo is looking at him too.

“It happened.”  he says, truthfully.

                                                                             xxxxx

Chapter Text

He thinks he’ll just put his head down on his knees for a moment to rest.  He doesn’t know when Yibo will be home.  He doesn’t usually do things like this.  But…

And he falls asleep.  It speaks to how tired he is that he does.  Because he would never fall asleep in a foreign place, sitting outside someone’s apartment door like this. 

He doesn’t wake until someone shakes him awake.  He’s disoriented for only a moment until Yibo’s face swims into view.

“Oh hey…” he says with a smile, trying to open his eyes fully.  Yibo is always a sight for sore eyes.

“What’re you doing here?”  Yibo asks, grasping his shoulders.

He stops smiling, suddenly thinking that maybe arriving unannounced had not been a good idea.  It was not like Yibo coming to see him.  He kept his own schedule.  Yibo’s schedule was really crazy and not his own.

“Sorry.  I…” he starts and then Yibo is pulling him up, grabbing his bag, and pulling him inside the apartment.

“Um… I… can get a hotel room.  I didn’t mean to presume….”  he says as soon as the door shuts behind him.

“What?”  Yibo asks, turning around.

“Sorry, I thought… I would surprise you.  But… you’re busy of course.”  he says, feeling weird all of a sudden.

He didn’t even know why.  It’s only been two weeks since Ziyi’s birthday weekend.  And they’ve talked since then.  A few times.  Mostly texting though.  NCT had had a concert in Spain and they had been gone for more than a week.  Another group had a tour coming up too, to London, and Yibo would be gone again. So, he figured that if he really wanted to see Yibo, he would simply have to come to Korea.

“I am.”  Yibo says. 

“Okay.”  he says, trying to grab his bag from Yibo’s shoulder.  Yibo lets it go without fuss and he takes it and opens the door to walk out again.

What the fuck.

He takes two steps out the door before Yibo pulls him back inside and shuts the door.

He’s so mad though that he elbows Yibo aside and tries to open the door again.

Yibo locks it with the chain on top and turns him around.

He is so pissed that he can feel his eyes water and he pushes Yibo away.

But Yibo sees his eyes and is on him the next moment.  “I’m sorry.  I’m sorry. I was just kidding.  You know that.”

“You’re a fucking asshole.”   he says, pushing him off again.

Yibo just grabs his hands and moves them to each side to come closer.

“I fucking went through six months of hell and you think it’s okay to pull that kind of a bullshit joke?”  he asks.  And now he can definitely tell he’s crying ugly angry tears.  As if the situation was not stacked against him to begin with.  “You sadistic prick!”  he pushes Yibo off again.

Yibo hugs him now, so tight that he almost lifts him off the floor a bit. 

He’s still pissed but has no energy to try to get out of his hold, so he lets his arms hang limply by his side.

“I missed this part of you.”  Yibo says now.

When he lowers him back down, he wipes at his eyes and pulls back to look at Yibo.  “What do you mean?”

“Where we this cheesy in love?  You’re so soft, it’s killing me.  I mean, I want to eat you up and hurt you a little all at the same time just to get you to react like your old self.”

He doesn’t know why he’s so emotional but that definitely doesn’t land with the same intention that Yibo likely aimed it with.

“You don’t like me anymore?”  he asks, seriously.

Yibo rolls his eyes at this.  “I would like you brain-dead.  Come on now.”

“Then what the fuck do you mean?”  he asks, pushing Yibo away from him.

“I mean, you treat me like I returned from the dead.”  There’s a tiny pause before Yibo adds, “Okay, yea, maybe that’s true.  But you know what I’m saying.  You treat me different now.  I thought after our last weekend together, you would go back to how it used to be.  But you still treat me with kid gloves.”

He can feel his nostrils start to flare.

If Yibo sees it, he doesn’t care and plugs on.  “I mean, I could be a complete sadist to you and you would just put up with it.  What’s up with that?”

He picks up his bag again and turns to leave and this time Yibo grabs him from behind, his arms going around his waist tight.

“I know, I scared you, okay?  I won’t do it again.”  Yibo says, his voice a harsh whisper in his ear.

He waits a moment before turning in profile to look at him.   “What?  Get into an accident?  Lose your memories?   How is any of that within your control?”

Yibo is quiet for a moment, but then inhales and exhales sharply.  “It seems like I was an overexcited puppy during our few weeks together.  I’m surprised you didn’t have to put me on a leash to keep me from yapping and yipping at everything in sight.”

“Says who?” he asks, pulling back even more.

Yibo doesn’t answer, and instead just holds him in a back-hug.  Even the back-hug is different.  This is more…?  He doesn’t know how to describe it.

He feels like he’s in an emotional whirlpool.  Maybe he’s just overreacting.  His immediate thought is that he wants to go back home.  This had been a bad idea. This is why he didn’t do surprises. 

“Yibo…” he says softly.  “You know, you don’t have to force anything.  If you just felt a sort of physical attraction that you couldn’t really explain and acted out on it in a moment of weakness, that’s ok.  I understand.  But just because we used to have a… an intimate relationship, doesn’t obligate you to restart one now.”

Yibo starts to say something and he stops him by squeezing his forearm.

“Let me finish.  Yes, it’s true, I wouldn’t want something like a friends-with-benefits deal.  I’m just not cut out for it.  But I can go back to being just friends.  You don’t have to do something like this just because I have memories of something that you have almost none of.  I mean, a few dreams notwithstanding.”

He didn’t even know why he didn’t think of this before.  Aside from feeling an attraction, Yibo didn’t have much to go on.  And so, it must be surprising for him to see the changes in his personality now that more tender feelings were involved.  The old Yibo had sort of seen the whole process of it unfolding, pushing and prodding at him for months, where this Yibo who had no memory of it, is likely taken aback.

And now that he thought of it that way, he can’t really unthink it. 

He gently pushes on Yibo’s arms until they loosen.

When he turns around, Yibo says, “I just feel like I missed out on something.  Like the whole thing of there to here, I missed it.”

Okay.  Yea, this sucks.  He tries to think of it from Yibo’s perspective, but in the moment, there is too much nausea to really entertain perspective-taking.

“I understand.”  he says, picking his bag up again and undoing the chain.

“Wait, what are you doing?” Yibo asks, pulling his hand back down.

“Oh, I can’t stay here.  You know that.”  he says.

“Why not?" Yibo asks.

“I clearly feel differently from you do, Yibo.  Why would I stay here and torture myself?”  he asks, annoyed now.

“Can I just get a little bit of time?’  Yibo asks.

“Sure.” he nods.  “Take all the time you need.   It should help that we rarely see each other anyways.”

“You’re angry.”

He blows out a breath.  “Yes, I guess.  I am.  I miss my old Yibo.  I don’t really think he’s coming back.  So yea, I guess I’m pissed.”

“See that’s what I’m talking about!” Yibo bursts out.  “There are times when you look at me and I feel like this is where I should be remembering something, but no matter how much I try, it’s just a vacuum.  Nothing is coming back except for those glimpses that I got in my dreams.  I want to remember shit that I did that wasn’t just sex.  I want to remember how we happened?  I want to remember how I convinced you to give me a chance because Lord knows I must have tried hard.  There’s no way you would have given in without a prolonged campaign on my part.”

“Well, you didn’t even have any feelings for me until you figured out I was bi.  So, there!”  his voice rises and he pulls away from the door, looking back to make sure he isn’t disturbing any passersby outside.

Yibo uses his distraction to drag him inside, grabbing his bag once more.

“I’m not staying, Yibo.  Honest to God.  I mean, you can prolong the inevitable, but I’m definitely going back tonight.”

Yibo stops at that and turns around to look at him before dragging him into the bedroom. 

He pulls his hand back when he sees the bed and says, “Oh, you’ve got to be shittin’ me.  I’m not having sex with you, asshole.”

When Yibo closes and locks the door, he laughs out loud.  “I’m literally taller than you.  I think I can reach the damn lock.”

“Oh, I can tie you up too.”  Yibo says, turning back around.

Xiao Zhan tilts his head, one eyebrow going up.  “You know, I read about this.  Sometimes there are head injuries where you don’t know the extent of the injuries until much later.  I think that may have happened to you.  Like maybe your personality changed.  And because I wasn’t with you all this time, I just didn’t know.  Do you have other sadistic tendencies?” 

“You’ve been writing too many damn stories.”  Yibo says, walking to his bureau to open it.

“I don’t write crime thrillers.”  he says when Yibo shuts the bureau and he sees a pair of shoelaces in his hand.

He laughs out loud.  “Oh, you for real?  You think you’re really going to tie me up.”

“Well, are you going to try to leave?” 

“Obviously.”

“Well, then you forced my hand.”  Yibo says casually, walking over to his side.

He thinks he lets it happen because it’s borderline absurd that it’s actually happening.

When Yibo checks the knot to see whether it’s tight enough, he looks up and says seriously.  “I’m leaving, Yibo.”

Yibo returns just as seriously, “You’re not, Xiao Zhan.”

“I am.”

“Since when have I not gotten my way with you?”  Yibo asks, sitting right in front of him on the floor, cross-legged, pulling him down with him.

For a moment his mind flashes back to Yibo’s tantrums during his time with Yizhou.  “This is the same stupid kind of bullshit that you said when I was with Yizhou.  God, why didn’t I listen to myself then?”

“Who’s Yizhou?”  Yibo asks.

He leans back against the side of the bed with a sigh, closing his eyes.  “Yizhou was my boyfriend for like three months, which sent you into a fucking possessive tizzy and convinced you that you’re gay for me and thus ensued our very brief and cheesy affair,” he opens his eyes and looks at Yibo.  “which is thankfully over now that you’ve returned to your senses.” 

“You’re not being fair.”  Yibo says, glaring at him.

“So, sue me.  I’m exhausted Yibo.  I don’t think I can survive another emotional whiplash with you.  I know it’s not fair to you and it’s not your fault.  But it’s not fair to me either.  I’m completely okay with leaving this behind.  Honestly.  Yes, I’m going to be upset for a bit, but so what.  These sorts of things take some time to get over.  Let’s just agree to see each other with all our friends for a bit so that things are not weird.  And then it’ll be fine.”

“Why do you always have to jump to fucking extremes instead of helping me?” 

“Helping you do what?”

“Helping me remember!” Yibo grabs his head in frustration.

He goes quiet and a moment later, reaches out towards Yibo’s face.  He doesn’t touch though and starts to pull back, but Yibo holds his palm against his chin, which is at a weird angle because his hands are still tied up and all.

“Fuck, take this off.”  he says, pulling in either direction, which only makes the knot tighter.

“Oh fuck no.”   Yibo says, even as he pushes one hand down while holding the other against his cheek.

“Fucker. I mean it.”  he says, pushing at Yibo’s cheek with the hand.

Yibo looks at him now with a smirk and he doesn’t get the chance to pull back before Yibo tilts his head down and bites the flesh of his palm.

It’s not the first time Yibo has bitten him, so he pushes his hand into the bite, forcing his mouth back open.

“Ow. fuck.”  Yibo says, pulling back.

“Don’t fuck with the master.” he says, taking his hand back, shoelace still on and all.

Yibo takes a breath and looks at him when he says, “We still do things like this, yea?  Like this part of our relationship didn’t disappear?” 

He sighs and slides down against the bed and onto the floor, bringing his arms over to cover his eyes.

“Nothing disappeared.  We just added to it is all.”

There is a moment of quiet before Yibo says, “So, all the ways in which you’ve been different with me is not because we’re now together?”

“No asshole.  It’s because you lost your goddamn memories.  And second of all, we’re definitely not together.”

“Says who?”  Yibo asks, moving his arms so he can see his eyes.

“Says I.  And I’m all that matters.  Because as far as you’re concerned, it didn’t even happen.”

“There’s an entire escapade in a bathroom and your apartment’s hallway that says yea, it did.”

He sighs.  “Think of those as drunken one-offs.  We will survive.”  He puts his arms back over his eyes.

“I don’t want to.  You’re getting me all wrong.  I want to us to be together.  I just want to remember is all.”

He moves his arms down and looks at Yibo.  “Yea, me too.  But Yibo, it’s okay if you don’t.  Especially if it’s for my sake.  I love you too much anyways to not get over this.  Whatever way you can fit into my life and I into yours, I’ll take it.  So…”

“Why do you keep saying that?” Yibo asks now, irritated.

“Because I’m not really convinced that you actually do.” 

“Why? because I said I wanted some time to do the things that we did early on in our relationship?”

He pulls his hands down entirely as he says, “There was no early on.  We were literally only together for three weeks.  So there.  The End.”

This time, Yibo is not put off by his irritation and instead lays down next to him.  “How did that happen?  When did it happen?  Did I beg you?” 

“Why do you keep asking me that?  Why would I make you beg?”

Yibo turns over and pulls himself up on his elbows.  He raises an eyebrow.  “According to Ziyi, I decided I was gay and then tried to hook up with NCT?  Sounds like something I would do to make you jealous.”

He shrugs. 

“And I got shit-faced and you had to take me home?” 

He shrugs.

“And then?  Did I come on to you while I was drunk?  Like two weeks ago?”

He laughs.  “No, you came on to me like seven months before that when I accidentally told you that I was bi.”

“Fuck, that’s right.” Yibo smacks his head.

“Wait, you remember?”  he asks, lifting his head, eyes wide.

“No, you just told me earlier and I was going to ask you more about it, but then you got pissed and I got sidetracked trying to make sure you didn’t escape.”

“Oh.” he says, putting his head back down.

“When the fuck did you become bi?”  Yibo asks.

“I’ve been bi all my life, asshole.  I just didn’t tell your straight ass.” he says.

“Why?”

“What do you mean, why? I don’t know.  Maybe I had feelings for you and didn’t want to make you uncomfortable.”  And then. “Fuck you know, this conversation went much better the last time around.  You were appropriately aghast and then wanted to know if I’ve ever been attracted to you, then you wanted to kiss me, and when I said no, you backed off for a bit.  But then you got set up with a girl by your mother and you liked her and started dating her and then you got into a bike accident…”

“Wait, I had another bike accident?” Yibo interrupts.

“Yes.”  He says looking at Yibo.  “You don’t have the best track record with bikes so if you get on another one again, I will legit cut you off.”

Yibo pouts at this, but doesn’t contest it.  A moment later, he asks, “Where was the accident?”

“On the tracks.  I’m surprised your mom didn’t tell you about this already.  You were fine though.  Recovered at my place.  Came onto me again.  I didn’t react well.  So you left.  I didn’t react well to that either.  Started dating Yizhou.”

“Who the fuck is this Yizhou?”

“Someone extremely wonderful.” he says, glaring at Yibo.

“Bullshit.”  Yibo doesn’t seem particularly bothered.  “How is he all that wonderful if you’re not with him anymore?”

Fuck.  All the things he missed about memories.

“He’s not you.  That’s why I’m not with him anymore.”  he says, bringing his arms back up to cover his eyes.

He doesn’t have the energy to continue with the rest of the story-telling, not that it’s particularly triggering any memories for Yibo anyways…

He doesn’t quite finish that thought when he feels Yibo’s lips over his.  He moves his arms up over his head as his eyes fly open.

“Don’t pull away.   Please.”  Yibo says, lingering just by his mouth.

He holds himself still, holding Yibo’s gaze. 

After a moment, Yibo asks, “And then what happened?”

He tries to think back to where he left off. 

Ah, Yizhou.

“Well, you told me to get it out of my system because you and I are “endgame” evidently.”

“Really?”  Yibo asks.

“Really.”  He answers.  “Why, you don’t believe me?”

“No, it sounds exactly like something I would say.”  Yibo smirks.

And despite everything, he’s glad to see the smirk back.

“Didn’t it piss you off?”  Yibo asks, smirk still in place.

“Yea, I called you ridiculous.  You agreed.  And then you backed off and let me date him.”

“What self-control I showed.”  Yibo says, pride evident in his voice.

“You’re still so ridiculous.”  he says, looking at him, smiling even though he doesn’t mean to.

“And you say I have brain damage.”  Yibo pffts.

He puts his shoe-lace tied hands up and pulls on it for effect before he says, “You most certainly do.”

Yibo is unimpressed and puts his chin on his elbow.  “And then?”

“And then Yizhou wanted to meet you.”

“Ooh.” Yibo says, raising his head, narrowing one eye.  “Not a good idea.”

“Yea, that’s what I told him.” he agrees, covering his face again, sighing.

“And?”

“And?  It went well enough.  You were very well-behaved.  But it was too late for me.  You’re endgame after all.”

He feels Yibo kiss him again and this time doesn’t resist.   But he doesn’t kiss back either.

When Yibo pulls away, he continues.  “I ended things with Yizhou the next day.  And I told you to go see if you had any interest in dating men.”

“Ooh, how did that go?”  Yibo asks.

“Well, for a few months you laid low and then you made this grand proclamation to all our friends that you were going to try dating men too.   And that’s how we ended up going to Shalimar and meeting NCT.”

“Ah, so now we’ve come back to the starting point.  The night of the drunkenness.  So what happened?  Did I hit on you?”

He covers his eyes some more as he remembers back to that night.

“No, you had vodka and then tequila shots and you threw up as soon as we came in the door.”

“Oh, gross.  So, we didn’t hook up then.”  he hears.

It takes a moment, but he finally says, “We did.”

Yibo is quiet and he finally moves his arms out of the way and looks.

Yibo’s gaze is inscrutable at first, but then he straightens his head away from his elbow and asks softly.  “How?”

“I cleaned you up.  Put you in the shower.  You pushed me off.  Then you came back and hugged me and cried.  And then I kissed you.”

He holds Yibo’s gaze before closing his eyes.   The fact that this particular memory is gone is too painful.

“Liar.”  Yibo says and he opens his eyes.

“You said, “I love you.   I love you so much.”  And then you kissed me.”

“You remember?” he asks.

“Just now when you said that, I thought I was imagining what you were saying, but when you skipped over that part, it just played in my head like that.  That’s how it happened?”

“Hmm…” he says, closing his eyes again when they water. 

He feels Yibo over him now, not even moving his arms out of the way as he leans down to kiss him.

Yibo kisses him until he sighs and softens his lips, opening them just a little.

When he pulls back up, Yibo asks, “Was I really needy?  Did I just take everything?”

It’s that question that makes him start to understand what this Yibo is struggling with.   A little.

“You took everything.”  He answers.

“Like an overexcited puppy…” that comes back again.  And this time, he moves his arms up to look at Yibo. 

“Did I at least make you feel good?”  Yibo asks.

“If you didn’t, would we spend two days in bed?”  he asks in return.

Yibo doesn’t look convinced.  “I don’t know.  I can be pretty persistent with you.  You know, just needling and needling…”

“Maybe I didn’t make myself clear before.  You took everything. But I took everything too.”

“Bullshit.”  Yibo says.  “You don’t even know how to take everything.”  he adds as he absently smooths back the hair from his forehead just under his arms.

“I do, when it’s always been mine anyways.” 

Yibo looks down at his face then, his eyes turning. 

“I have.  Haven’t I?”  The next kiss is hard, Yibo pressing his lips full force against his. 

It’s quick though and when Yibo pulls back, he asks, “So I didn’t just barge in ransack everything.”

“Why do you think all this?”  he asks, curiously.

Yibo looks away for a moment, as if remembering.  And then says, “The glimpses I have of what he had during those weeks are all shadows.   I have some images of them now, but I can’t quite tell if that’s just my mind creating a new memory imagining what you tell me or if I’m actually remembering it whole.  But what I do remember clearly is you those weeks in the hospital.  You said, “I told you it would end like this, Yibo.   I told you and you didn’t listen.   I really am in hell, Yibo.””  He looks down at him again.  “You have no memory of them, but they’re there in my head.  And when I started to have these feelings for you, it started to occur to me whether I pushed something on you that you didn’t want.”

He can start to feel his heart speed up at the insinuation, but he doesn’t get to interrupt before Yibo continues.  “At first I thought it was probably me just being me with you.  But then when there were so many nights when I woke up with a hard-on imagining biting you here…” Yibo lifts his shirt to stroke the side of his belly just above the hipbone, “or climbing into the shower with you to slide my cock inside you…” Yibo pauses, and when he looks down at his face, he can see that even remembering those dreams is doing things to him already, “wanting to watch you fall apart in my arms… your lips in a pout with this mole teasing me to no end… and when I started giving into them finally, jerking off because there’s only so much I can take, it started to make me wonder if I had somehow… I had done something that you didn’t want.   You were so wary with me when we saw each other again that I was convinced that maybe I had.  You likely forgave me for it or allowed it to happen because you love me too much to really say no to anything I want for too long.  And then Ziyi’s birthday weekend happened.  I was sort of dying in my own little world of erotica and guilt.  But it sucked, because the guilt was still not enough to stop wanting you that way.”  He pauses now.  “But when you responded to me like you did, you have no idea…. for a moment, I was so happy that you seemed to want me the same way I wanted you.  And I conveniently forgot about all the stuff in the hospital.  Until I got back here, that is.   And started to think of all that all over again.  And then I was back to wondering what that all meant.  I must have done something…”

This time he does cut in.  “I didn’t want things to change between us.  You see how I am now with you.  How easily I feel rejected and hurt and can’t get out of my own way when it comes to you.  I must have known this is how I would be, so I didn’t want to cross that line.  Besides, I had a hard time understanding how you went from straight to this…” he says unironically, although a moment later, when he looks up and sees Yibo’s expression, he smiles.

“I mean, during all those dreams, didn’t you wonder, Fuck, I’m gay??” he asks.

Yibo thinks about that seriously for a moment and finally says, “You know, until Ziyi brought it up during the weekend, the gay thing had not even occurred to me.”

“Well, you’re the same damn Yibo alright, memories or no memories.”  he mutters.

Yibo laughs.  “Why?  The gay thing didn’t bother me then too?”

“It was odd.  You didn’t seem to think you were gay.  You basically said you had no interest in other men.  So, I told you that means that you’re not gay.  But you were stuck on how that didn’t really apply to me.  I tried to tell you that’s not a thing.”

“Why do I have to like other men to like you?”  Yibo asks, in an almost comical parody of the exact same thing that he had said so long ago.

He pauses and looks at Yibo.  “You don’t remember saying that before?”  he asks.

“I said that before?” he asks.

“The exact same thing.” 

Yibo smiles.  “Well, I guess all the correct parts of my brain survived intact.”

He smiles too, although a moment later, he calls, “Yibo…”

“Hmm…”

“My arm really hurts.”

“Fuck, sorry…” he goes to untie the laces, but then pauses and asks, “Are you going to leave?”

He shakes his head.

But as soon as the laces are off, he bolts for the door – oh but fuck, his arms are numb – Yibo anticipates it and tackles him to the floor from behind and they both fall together, and then Yibo is on him, hard and needy, and he can’t get Yibo’s shirt off fast enough to feel the heat of his skin. 

“Oh fuck.  Please tell me you want this.  All this.  I’ll stop if you don’t.  I can still stop.”  Yibo says in between dragging his lips and teeth all over his neck. 

He doesn’t even know how Yibo can ask that with the way he is pressing himself into Yibo’s mouth and body, but he says it anyways.  “I want you.  I have always wanted you.  When I said I was in hell, it’s because you had left me behind with all this by myself.  And you had forgotten all about it.”

Yibo pauses and lifts up his head. “Fuck, that’s what you meant.”  he says now.

He tilts his head in how was that not obvious?

“Oh fuck.  Thank you.”  he says as he collapses on top of him in a moment of relief.

 “You really fucking thought you have enough power over me to take me against my will?” 

Yibo lifts his head.  “Okay, no, I know I wouldn’t do that.  But I can just wear you down, you know.”

Given how distressed the mere idea seems to Yibo, he doesn’t tell him that yes, some part of wearing him down had been involved. 

What he does say instead is, “You did have to convince me that you would be into gay sex, you know.  It took me some time to wrap my head around the switch.”

“Why?” Yibo asks.  “One dick is good enough.   But two dicks are epic.   Especially when one of those is yours…” 

He smiles at the repeat and wonders how many more repeats there will be of others too and then it occurs to him that maybe all those old memories gone were not really gone, but things that Yibo would do again and it would be just recreating it as a new memory.  This Yibo seducing him with all the same corny – even if this one had a harder time believing he was corny – lines all over again.

“I have lube.  Can I get it?”  Yibo asks now, distracting him from his pleasant musings with more urgent concerns.

Their hallway activities from two weeks ago had not involved this.    

“You remember how to do it?”  he asks.

“No sir, I forgot how to have sex.”  Yibo says in a deadpan.

“Oh that’s right.  Your sex-starved brain only remembers this part of our relationship.  Oh and by the way, that sex in the shower thing, did not happen.”

“Really?” Yibo asks, eyes wide.

“Hm.  We’ve jerked each other off in the shower, but no anal.” 

“So that means…”

“You have some creative sleep fantasies.”  he finishes for Yibo.

“But the French toast one did happen?”

“Hm…” he murmurs.  “I did make them on the morning you told me of your week long trip to Japan – you know, in protest – but you thought my passive-aggressive shit was a mating call and got the lube into the kitchen to do the dirty.  It was actually a high, being fucked from behind while licking maple syrup off my fingers, but I think it turned you on to watch me do it because then you were sucking on my finger too.”

He looks up in surprise when he feels how hard Yibo is against his hips.  And his face looming above is pure lust.  He leans up then to drag Yibo down on him, whispering, “Yes, fuck me.  Fuck me like you used to.”

                                                                         xxxxx

Chapter Text

Hello readers,

A quick request. I (or rather this story and its tags) have attracted the notice of a cute little troll. They're desperately in need of attention and love (among other things). I have interceded and deleted the most recent comment (as I have no desire for my comment section to devolve into a war zone, which I assume is what they're looking for). If you come across them (non-registered account, generally taking the forms of anon, an, or variation thereof), please do not engage them and ignore (until such a time when I can delete said comment). We shall be calm and carry on.

And if you are said troll reading, sending a lot of love your way. You seem to need it. Also, you seem to know a lot of details about my stories for someone who doesn't read my work. Further, your comment, "This is why you haven't made it in the larger fandom." I have no desire to "make it" in any fandom. I have everything I need here already, so thank you for your concern.  I'm impressed at the length (I mean, several paragraphs) to which you went to look out for me.  I feel like you've spent a lot more time thinking of me than I frankly deserve.

P.S., For those readers who did not get the notification, Chapter 36 is up (it was posted on the day that Ao3 notifications did not work for almost the whole day).

Love,

Devi

Chapter Text

Except this Yibo doesn’t fuck him like he used to.

All dreams notwithstanding, this Yibo has really no notion of how they used to have sex.  Whereas the other one was all playful and silly and needy and adorable, this one is all passion, eyes hooded, teeth stinging, nails clawing, and fingers clutching.  And all… what did they call it… big dick energy.  He couldn’t imagine this one being a bottom. 

He bites into the soft flesh of his arm as he feels Yibo slide in deep, his teeth sinking into the slope of his shoulder at the same time. 

Fuck, he couldn’t even breathe, he felt so raw.  Like his nerves were about to pop through his skin, all of them firing at once, making him blind with pleasure.   

He wanted to think about this, how was this so different, but he couldn’t connect two thoughts together.  Hell, he couldn’t even connect two words together, when every thrust kept rubbing so exactly against that spot that made him want to whine out loud.

“Don’t hold your breath.” he hears Yibo’s deep husky voice in his ear.

Fucking hell.

He buries his face into the pillow when he thinks that voice alone will make him come. 

Who the fuck is this?

Yibo pauses then.

He almost cries in frustration.  Fuck.  He needs… this to continue.  to finish.  So that he can go deep inside his head and think about this.  Because he knows he is hurtling towards some crazy end here that’s going to blow his brains out.  He just doesn’t know if it’s because this sex is unfamiliar.  Or because this Yibo is unfamiliar. 

His heart is beating too fast.  He doesn’t lift his face out of the pillow, waiting.  He won’t ask.  He certainly won’t beg.  Even if he’s so horny and so close that if it stops now, he thinks he will literally die of want.  Even so, he doesn’t do anything other than keep his face buried in the pillow.  He holds his breath as each moment passes and Yibo continues to hold still.

He thinks maybe Yibo wants to stop, but Yibo’s cock is still hot and hard inside him. 

Just when the silence stretches his nerves past the breaking point, he feels Yibo lower his body until he is fully lying on top of him, pressing him into the mattress, without pulling out.

He is breathless at the pressure.  But he loves it.  He is wrapped on all sides in Yibo’s heat and weight.  He sighs into the pillow, finally turning his face sideways so that he can breathe through his nose. 

“I’ve been reading about your Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian.”  Yibo’s voice is a deep rumble against his spine. 

It takes him a moment to process what Yibo said, and then he opens his eyes.

“What?” 

“Lan Wangji.  And his Wei Wuxian.”  Yibo repeats.

His head spins for a moment.  Did Yibo just say that he’s been reading…. in the middle of fucking?

He shifts a little, just enough to jump start the cock that is somehow still at full mast inside him. 

Yibo hisses and grabs onto his hips hard to get him to stop.

“Fuck…”  his eyes close as Yibo’s fingers dig in. 

As if just becoming aware of the state that he is in, Yibo’s hand moves up gently, stroking along his hip and then along his waist.  He can feel his belly muscles clench inwards as arousal restarts like a river unfrozen mid-flow. 

Yibo’s fingers keep their slow climb, stroking up his side and up and up until he feels feverish and his nerve-ends are thrumming with vibration.  When they reach up to his neck, it moves up its length until just the index finger pauses by his lips.

There’s no pressure, the pad of Yibo’s finger barely touches his lips.  He is tempted to open his mouth, but he keeps it closed.

Yibo leans close to his ear and licks its edge before he says, “Open.”

He doesn’t know if his mouth opens because of the command or because the licking makes it open reflexively. 

There’s a moment when he gets used to having the finger in his mouth, but then Yibo bites the lobe of his ear while suddenly pulling out and sliding back in all at the same time. 

He moans out loud at the combined assault on his senses and wraps his mouth around Yibo’s finger to suck in earnest. 

“Fuck.”  Yibo growls in his ear.  “I literally want to lick you everywhere until you melt all over me…”

He makes some sort of noise in his throat that sounds like an overwhelmed little yelp as he comes into Yibo’s sheets, his dick rubbed sensitive against mattress, and his insides riding a continuous wave that only crests when Yibo squeezes him tight, pulling his finger out and replacing it with his mouth, sucking hard on his lower lip, as he too comes.

Afterwards, he thinks Yibo will move off of him and fall asleep, like he is wont to do for at least a few minutes, so that he can escape to the bathroom and clean up, but instead, Yibo just holds him and stays right where he is. 

When one and two minutes stretch into four and five, he grows restless, not knowing when Yibo will pull away. 

It’s not the he doesn’t want Yibo to stay, but this moment where he waits without knowing, it’s like this limbo and a tension that he can’t tolerate.  The old Yibo had been pretty consistent, rolling off and immediately sleeping for ten minutes, which meant he could recoup.  This one…

What was with this anyways… the old Yibo and the new Yibo.  As if they were different people or something.  It was all the same Yibo, he knew.  Just one who remembered wooing him and one who didn’t.  One who remembered how resistant he had been to the whole idea of them together, and the other who had pretty much woken up one day to find desire in his eyes.  One who remembered struggling with knowing he felt love before the attraction and the other who only became attracted once he started having dreams of…

He buries his face into the pillow again, wishing his head would stop.  Couldn’t he just enjoy some quiet after sex that was off the Richter scale.

How did memory-less straight Yibo know how to do this?  Be so good at this? 

“Hey…” Yibo calls finally, rolling off of him. 

He sighs in relief.

“Hey…” He says, lifting his head to look at Yibo. 

Yibo smiles.

He smiles back.  And then asks, “You want to sleep?” 

Yibo shakes his head. 

Okay.    

Yea, that was fine.

“Where’s your bathroom?” he asks finally. 

“It’s across the hall.”  Yibo answers.

“Okay.”  he starts to get up and then notices the state of the cover sheet with his cum and grabs it with him. 

“What are you doing?”  Yibo asks, sitting up.

“I”ll wash it.  It’s alright.”  He wraps part of the sheet – the semi-clean part – around him and scrunches up the rest in his hand as he starts to walk away from the bed. 

Yibo is on him the next instant, grabbing him from behind, arms going tightly around him.

“Did I do something wrong?”  Yibo asks, voice low.

He turns around immediately in Yibo’s hold to face him.  In his own self-consciousness, it had not even occurred to him that Yibo might be feeling the same. 

“No, of course not.” he says, making sure that Yibo can see his eyes to remove any doubt.

“I… I don’t know how we did it before.  Did he do it differently?”  Yibo asks now, his tone hesitant even though he is standing his ground, wanting to know.

“He is you.”  He reminds Yibo, wanting the both of them to understand this.

There is a moment when Yibo stares at him and then he looks away and says, “I know.  But… sometimes I just feel like some imposter crept into a year of my life and stole you away while I slept.”

“What?” he asks, leaning back, wanting to see all of Yibo’s expression properly.  He trips on the sheet and Yibo steadies him, moving him back against the wall and then coming in close.

“I know it’s weird, but the way you describe him, it just sounds so ludicrous and ridiculous and crazy…”

“You weren’t…” he cuts in.

Yibo looks at him now, grinning.  “That’s what I’m saying.  I wasn’t the corny bastard.  He was.”

For a moment, the extent of the division between the two Yibo’s is so much stronger in Yibo’s head than his own that he starts to get confused. 

Then he narrows his eyes.  “Are you jealous of yourself?  he asks.

Yibo pffts at that.  And rolls his eyes.  Although after a moment, he says, “How could he forget?  How could he make me forget?  At least make me remember how to have sex!”  some of the frustration now leaks through.

Xiao Zhan puts an arm around Yibo and pulls him close.  “Oh, come on, you know it was good.”  he says.

“Was it?” Yibo asks, looking at him. 

He waits a moment, watching Yibo’s eyes to know if he is genuinely asking or just looking for affirmation and compliments. Either way, he has no problem.

“Mn.” he answers.

Yibo moves in, pressing his body into the wall.  He holds his gaze as he asks, “You’re not lying?”

“Did it feel like I’m lying?”

Yibo watches his eyes for another moment before burying his face into his neck, nuzzling him gently there. “I don’t know. I need you to tell me…” he says in between.

“Why?  So you can pat yourself on the back for blowing my brains out?”  he asks, his neck falling back when Yibo bites a spot and then pulls back to blow on it.

It makes him shiver reflexively, and Yibo whispers, “I love that moaning sound you make.  It makes me so hard.”

“Fuck baby…” he whispers, feeling Yibo’s thumb stroke over a nipple, his thoughts starting to turn into soup again.

“Did you used to call me baby?”  Yibo asks, pausing by his ear.

“Sometimes…” he answers.

“Because sometimes in my dreams, you turn to me in your sleep, needy and whispering “baby…” and I roll over on top of you, wrap your legs around me, and sink in deep.  While you’re still soft and fuzzy and a bit in dreamland, your eyes closed, I slide in slow and deep, making you sigh with these kinky breathless sounds…”

Yibo is rubbing against him now, teasing his nipple, and running those magical lips along his neck.

“Fuck, stop…” he says, breathless… and against all odds, hard.

“And nowadays…I want to do it until you forget he even existed.”  Yibo says.

 It takes a moment for that to penetrate the haze in his brain and he opens his eyes.

“Why?” he asks, tilting Yibo’s chin up, seeing the sullen turn to his lips.

“You called him “My Yibo”.  Not just today.  Another time too.  You didn’t even realize it.  As if I’m not yours.”

“Oh Yibo…” he whispers.  “How can you be jealous of yourself?”

“You try being in my place and you’ll see…” Yibo answers so seriously that he fights the urge to smile.

He closes his eyes and thinks for a moment before he opens them back up and says, “If you ever recover your memories, you’ll kill me for this, but…”  he leans in to press a soft kiss against Yibo’s lips before pulling back.  “Today is the best it’s ever been.”

For a moment, Yibo just watches him, then his eyes narrow as if that couldn’t possibly be the truth, and then he finally asks, “Really?”

“Hmm…”

Yibo pulls him close at that and kisses him again, soft and tender.

“So, I’m… not bad at this.”  he remarks when they pull back.

“Well, it’s one time.  We’ll have to see…” he answers with a grin.

That just makes Yibo tighten his grip around his waist and whisper, “How can I go wrong when I just want to make you feel good?”

“How about you?” he asks. 

“What about me?”  Yibo asks.

“Did you like it?  I mean… as far as you know, this is… different from… you know, your regular preferences.”

“Is that a real question though.  Because since I woke up in the hospital, the only time my dick has even shown any interest is when it’s thought of you naked.”

“I can’t quite wrap my head around that.”  he admits.

“Well, maybe the interloper is still somewhere deep inside my head saying, “If you fuck this up, bitch, I will cut you. You don’t know how much fucking hard work I had to do to get to this stage.””  Yibo even uses a different voice for this effect, something more feisty and higher pitched.

“You know, you still spoke the same, right?” he asks, laughing.

“Oh yea?”  Yibo asks.

“Hmm… You were just way cornier.”  he grins.

“How corny?”  Yibo asks.

“You won’t even believe it.”

“Like what?”

“You had me at A.”  he says, dropping his voice several octaves to mimic Yibo’s.

“I didn’t say that. Stop.”  Yibo says.

“Oh, you’re right.  You didn’t say it.  You texted it.”

“No, I didn’t.”

“Boy, I have proof.”

“Where? Show me.”  Yibo pulls at his arm.

Xiao Zhan laughs and pushes him off.  “After a shower.”

                                                                        xxxxxxxx

Chapter Text

“I’m going to erase this.”  Yibo says.  He looks up and sees that Yibo’s eyes are trained on his phone screen, his finger poised to make good on his threat.

He sees white and lunges at Yibo, literally toppling him backwards.  Later on, he would thank the heavens that they are on the carpet, because Yibo hits his head on the edge of the couch. 

“Fuck, Xiao Zhan!” he says, rubbing the back of his head.  “You trying to give me another head injury?”

He reaches over to rub the back of Yibo’s head absently as he murmurs, “sorry sorry” but his attention is on scrolling through the texts to make sure they’re all there.

He breathes a sigh of relief and finally turns to look to Yibo.  Whose mouth is curled into a sullen pout now.

“What?” he asks, sighing, pulling Yibo’s chin up in his direction.

Yibo doesn’t say anything for a moment but then puts his head down on his shoulder. 

“It really upsets you?”  he asks.

Yibo snuggles in without thinking and for a moment, it’s the closest Yibo has ever come to behaving like he had before the accident.  Even before they got together.  This is the Yibo of all his life.  The one who snuggles in like he belongs. 

“I feel like I live in his shadow.”  Yibo says after a while, a bid sadly.  But then with more vigor, “His corny stupid shadow.”  He lifts his head off his shoulder.  “How could you fall for that bullshit, Xiao Zhan?  Ugh!”

He looks at Yibo to figure out if Yibo is quite done yet.  He doesn’t think he is.

And Yibo proves him right when he says, “Erase all that and let me do it better.  Woo you properly.”

There is true frustration there now, he can sense it.  It’s not as silly as it sounds.

“It wasn’t all corny and silly.  You did that only so I wouldn’t freak out and run away like you thought I would do many times.  And given how many hang-ups I had about you being too straight for this whole thing, you just went out of your way to prove to me that I’m what you really wanted.  All the silliness was to distract me from how nervous I was about… sex.”

“I know.”  Yibo says, now putting his head back down on Xiao Zhan’s shoulder.

“You do?” he asks.

Yibo nods.  “No matter how much I want to disassociate myself from him, he is still me after all.  He was just trying to hold onto you too tightly so that you would never have any doubt that he’s in it with you.  Even when your nature makes you want to second-guess it.”

He’s quiet for a moment before he says, “Sounds like you remember.”

Yibo looks like he considers that before he answers,  “I don’t remember the silliness.  I do remember a sort of… anxiety is too strong a word, I think, but more like, a sort of antsy-ness.  Like you know that feeling when you feel too much and it’s not just one thing, but a lot of things, but at the same time you can’t really give into figuring it out because…”  Yibo’s voice peters out as if the thought is unformed… or incomplete.

And so he fills in.  “Because I’m too anxious to allow you the freedom to feel your own feelings of that sort.”

Yibo doesn’t refute it, but merely lifts his head and looks at him.

“It’s just a sense I get, although all of it is foreign.  Which is probably why I can talk about it.  Because if I truly remembered enough to be him again, I doubt that I would voice it out loud to you.”

For whatever reason, rather than making him anxious, he feels his heart settle a bit more.  To know that, his impulsive, cheesy, sweet Yibo had revved up that side of him so much more to compensate for some of the normal feelings that people have about making drastic changes to their relationships.  And it strikes him that a lot of his anxiety during those days had also been because Yibo had been so enthusiastic that he had felt like he needed to handle all the worries for the both of them by himself.

He’s quiet and Yibo puts his head on his shoulder again.  He laces their hands together and squeezes Yibo’s once before he says, “You know, you had gotten the offer to audition for SM and had decided not to go without even telling me.”

Yibo doesn’t seem surprised.  And then says, “If not for the fact that they made me come here, I still wouldn’t have come here, memory-loss or not.”

“Why not?” he asks, turning to look down at Yibo’s bent head.  His hair is now long enough to becoming floppy in the front again and he wants to run his fingers through it like he used to.

“I’ve never wanted to stay away from you for that long.  Has nothing to do with whether we’re in a romantic relationship or not.”

He smiles.  He wonders what he would have done if the whole SM thing had happened before their relationship had changed.  Would he have encouraged Yibo to go?  Wanted him to stay?  He doesn’t know now because he can’t really think back to a time when he would have wanted to be away from Yibo for too long either.  Although, he also doesn’t think that he has ever thought that distance would really matter between them.  Maybe he is naïve.

“How did you find out?”  Yibo asks now, lifting his head.  “Did my mom tell you?”

“Hm.” he nods.  “She had no clue why you didn’t want to go.  Obviously.  She wanted to see if I could appeal to your good senses.”

“And?”  Yibo asks.

“Obviously she had no clue about us.  It was funny.  That same conversation, she was lamenting about why I couldn’t be a girl so that she could marry us off and not worry about you.”

Yibo’s right eyebrow shoots up. 

“You can’t blame her.  Come on.  As far as she knows, you’re straighter than an arrow.”

Yibo sighs.  Even he sees the logic in that.

“But my mom.  She knows I’m bi.”  He says and Yibo looks at him, startled.

“She does?”

“Hm.”

“Fuck, did everyone know except me?”  Yibo asks.

“It’s not like I dated a ton for people to know.  But I did date a guy first year of college for almost that entire year.  I ended up coming out to my mom then.”

Yibo pulls his hand out of his hold, his expression shutting down.  “You had a boyfriend in college?”

He looks at Yibo curiously.  “Hm.” he answers.

“How?  You spent all your time with me.  I mean, you freaking came home every weekend.”

It strikes him then that this is quite different from the reaction the old Yibo had.  Hell, this is different from the reaction this Yibo had to Yizhou.

“I only really saw him during the weekdays in the dorms.” he answers.

Yibo starts to get up.  He is so taken aback that he doesn’t respond.  By then, Yibo is walking to the kitchen.

He gets up and follows behind and by the time he reaches the kitchen, Yibo is opening a wine bottle and pouring himself a glass.

“You’re mad?” he asks.

“Fuck yes!”  Yibo says, taking a sip of the wine. 

“Why?”  he asks.  “You weren’t when you found out before.”

“Oh, I’m pretty fucking sure I was.  I probably just hid it well.”

“There is no way…”

“I do not fucking care what he did, Xiao Zhan.  He wasn’t telling the truth.  Because, this right here, the real me.  I’m fucking pissed.”

“Why?” he asks.

“What do you mean, why?  You fucking hid an entire year’s relationship from me.  I want to know how you would feel if I did that shit to you.”

Now, he's starting to get mad too.  “You didn’t tell me about all your freaking booty calls.”

“Yes, because they were hook-ups!  Not relationships!  If I started seeing someone for longer than three weeks, you would have known!”

“I…” he starts.

But Yibo cuts him off.  “You just wanted to hide shit from me.”

“I didn’t want you to feel like anyone was your competition!” he says, his voice rising.

“Well, I wish you would’ve left that up to me to decide!”  Yibo’s nostrils are flaring by now and he takes another drink.

“I can’t really believe you’re this angry.”

“I can’t really believe you would think I wouldn’t be this angry!”  Yibo retorts, offended.

“You weren’t even this mad when you found out I was bi!”

“Because I can understand why you wouldn’t tell me!  We’ve always been abnormally close.  Even a blind person can see that. The only thing we didn’t do back then was have sex.  Hell, we’re more intimate with each other in a single day that most couples are in an entire lifetime.”  Yibo pauses, winded, catching his breath.  He takes another sip.  “I don’t need to remember his memories to know what I would have done as soon as I found out that you were bi.”

His heart is pounding.  He walks to the cupboard that he had seen Yibo grab a wine glass from and opens it to get one for himself.

“What would you have done?”  he asks.

“Figure out how to have that part of you too.”  Yibo answers. 

There is something reassuring in knowing that Yibo’s reaction is the same time and again.  Not an impulse then.  Just a natural turn.

“How can you tell for sure?” he asks, turning around with the glass.  Yibo is still faced away from him, taking a sip out of his own.

“How can I tell how much I want all of you?”  Yibo asks, turning around now.

The way the question is phrased is an answer all in itself, but still he nods.

“I don’t know. I just do.”  Yibo says now, putting his glass down and running his fingers through his hair in frustration.  “Don’t you?”  he asks, lifting his head.  “Haven’t you always wanted all of me?  The only thing that stopped you was that you didn’t think it was an option.  Same for me.”

He wants to reach for Yibo.  Kiss him.  Touch him.  Suck marks into his skin everywhere.  But he holds still. 

“You feel like I betrayed you by dating someone?” he asks instead.

“I don’t know.  I know it’s unfair to think that.  But, it’s also… I don’t know.  In my mind, no one’s ever even come ten miles within your place.  It’s always been you first.  And then everyone else.  I just feel like…” He doesn’t complete the thought before he turns around to drink again.

Although now Yibo picks up the bottle and brings it over to pour some into his glass too.

It takes a moment for Yibo to look up and into his eyes after he finishes pouring and puts the bottle down.

And then he takes the glass in Xiao Zhan’s hand and puts that on the counter too before he says, “Yes, I feel like you cheated on me. There.”

“Then, you’ve cheated on me loads of times.”  he answers, heated.  “And I’ve had to hear about it from others.  How hung Wang Yibo is.  And how much stamina Wang Yibo has…” he pushes Yibo away with both hands now before he continues, “…how he seduces everyone with that silly, stupid fucking smirk that I can’t fucking stand!” 

And just like that, Yibo is back on him, pulling his hands away when he tries to put them up to push him off again.

“If you were so fucking jealous, why didn’t you just seduce me yourself?”  Yibo asks, holding both his wrists on either side of them, against the counter.  "I would've been fair game any day."

“I wasn’t jealous!” he yells.

“Sounds like you were!” Yibo yells back.

“You’re the one who said I fucking cheated on you.”  he bites out in a whisper, not wanting to yell anymore.  “When, by the same rule that you apply, no one’s even come within ten miles of anywhere near you either.  Not matter how long I knew them, slept with them, or dated them!”

They glare at each other for a long moment before Yibo asks, “You really hate my smirk?”

“Can’t stand it.” he answers.

He sees the slight tremor to Yibo’s lips and bites down on his own lower lip.

Yibo gives in first and laughs.  A quick short one.  Before he says, “Such a liar. You love my smirk.”

“I do not.” he insists.

“Then why does Wei Wuxian smirk so much?”  Yibo asks.

‘Wei Wuxian?” he asks, taken aback.   Then he laughs.  “Wait, you think you’re Wei Wuxian?”

Yibo is not put off by his mocking denial.  “Well, not all of him.  But definitely parts of him.”

“That’s rich.  Because you used to think you were Lan Wangji.”

“Bullshit.”

“You did.  Asked me point blank if I didn’t ever wonder where I got that Wei Wuxian listening to Lan Wangji’s heartbeat thing from.”

Yibo listens to that and then says, “Yea, that particular habit.  Obviously that’s a direct reference to us.  But that doesn’t mean I think I’m Lan Wangji.  The dude’s unrealistic as fuck.  What part of me is unrealistic as fuck?  I’m all regular.”

He narrows his eyes at this particular description.  “No one would ever accuse you of being regular.”

“We are not the same.  Only one of me.” Yibo says.  Or raps.  Or something.

“What?” he asks.

“How’re you going to convince Taeyong to be your weird little alien, Lan Wangji, if you don’t even listen to his songs?”  Yibo asks, tapping his nose with his index finger.

He pulls the finger down and asks, “That was an NCT song?”

“Hm… It’s called Regular.”  he answers.

“We’re not the same.  Only one of me.  That doesn’t sound so regular.”  he muses.

“They mean that ironically, you weird one.”  Yibo says.

He rolls his eyes and grabs his glass to take a sip.

Except he doesn’t take a sip as much as gulp down half the glass.

“Hey hey…” Yibo says, pulling the glass down.  “You’re a lightweight.  That’s going to go straight to your head.”

“That’s sort of the idea.” he says, pulling the glass back and taking another long swig before Yibo pulls it back again.

“Why?”  Yibo asks now, seriously, setting the glass aside.

He can feel the effect within seconds.  It reminds him how long it’s been since he’s eaten.

“Fuck, I forgot to make you something to eat.” he says.

“Why do you have to make me something to eat?”  Yibo asks, pulling his hands away.  “I should be feeding you.  Are you hungry?” 

His stomach answers with a tiny growl.

Yibo looks down at his stomach and then back up, grinning.  “I have ramen.  Or we can get takeout.”

“How do you live like this?”  he asks, eyes wide.

“It’s your fault.  You spoiled me all these years.  Now I have no basic living skills.”

“Then how have you been living all this time?”

“Not very well.” Yibo says, his eyes taking on that slightly glassy sheen from a buzz.

He can feel his own buzz now, a pleasant sort of undoing in his head that is about to make his tongue looser.  As he had wanted it to.

Armed with that, he puts his arms on Yibo’s shoulder and pulls him close.

“No?” he asks.

“No.” Yibo shakes his head.

“Do you miss me like I miss you?” he asks, one arm dropping down to Yibo’s waist to go around it.

“I must miss you way more because I don’t even know this place.  Everything’s been new.  Have I ever lived on my own before?  Didn’t you worry about me?  How would I survive without you?”  Yibo asks, his lips turning up in that miffed pout again.

He drops a quick kiss on that pout and pulls back.  “You know I was going to move here with you before the accident happened.” he says, softly.

That gets Yibo attention and for a moment, Yibo tries to crawl out of his buzz to answer.

“Why?  You loved your apartment.  And you hate change.”

He ponders that and says, “I loved you more, I guess.”

Yibo doesn’t take that lightly.  Because his eyes darken and he presses himself closer as he whispers, “You would have done that for me?” 

“Hm…” he answers, leaning in for another kiss.

And this time, it’s not a peck, but one that lingers… it builds steam until he’s licking Yibo’s lips from the bottom to the top and Yibo is trying to catch his tongue with his own each time he’s doing it.

By the time Yibo manages to catch his tongue, he has almost all of Yibo’s buttons unbuttoned.

When he runs his fingers down Yibo’s chest, Yibo grabs onto his wrist and looks at him.  “I know I’m out of practice with this, but… aren’t you… isn’t it too soon to go again?” 

He pulls Yibo close to him until his lips almost brush the edges of Yibo’s ear, almost… Yibo’s ticklish and he doesn’t want to stop Yibo from hearing it when he says, “Not in my mouth.”

It takes a moment for it to register and then he feels Yibo against his thigh, getting hard.

“Really?” Yibo asks in a whisper.

“You don’t want to?” he asks, pulling back a little.

“Oh, fuck yes, Sweet Lord.”  Yibo answers, his hand immediately unbuttoning his jeans and pulling down his boxers to pull his dick out.

“You’ve thought of this?”  he asks, smiling a little at Yibo’s enthusiasm.

“Fuck yes.  Have you seen your mouth? It’s the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen.  I can’t look at it without wondering if I want to suck on it or have it suck me.”

And fuck, that’s an instant injection of juice into his dick, because it’s standing straight up now as he drops to his knees to take Yibo into his mouth.

Yibo stands still, afraid to move, and he has to finally pull Yibo's hand up and put it behind his head so that Yibo knows it’s okay to fuck his mouth a little.

When it gets going, the last time that he had blown Yibo against the window sill comes back to him, the memory of that sweeping through with Yibo’s words.

Even I have drag you into the pits of hell, I would, if it wouldn’t separate me from you.  

It’s so clear, Yibo’s voice, that it takes a moment to realize that it’s not the Yibo from his memories, but the one in front of him who’s saying it.

He’s so surprised that he stops.  Yibo does too.  When he looks up, Yibo looks down at him, eyes wide.

Yibo drops down next to him in the next instant, cock forgotten, and he grabs Yibo’s hands to ask, “You remember?”

“Not everything.”  Yibo answers, before he gets ahead of himself.

“But you remember?”  he asks again.

“That day against the window, I think I remember...”

                                                                            xxxxxxxxxxx

Chapter Text

Yibo lays his head on his shoulder suddenly and he immediately scoots closer to grab him around the waist.  They’re both on their knees and he widens his own so that he can pull Yibo in closer.   

“You okay?”  he asks after a while, a whisper because Yibo is so quiet.

Yibo answers softly, “He’s so intense...”

“Hm?” he asks, looking down at Yibo’s bent head, the soft hair brushing against his nose.  He doesn’t resist and buries his face into its downy scent as he strokes Yibo’s back gently.

“And possessive…”  Yibo says, tightening his arms around Xiao Zhan’s waist. 

He is quiet as he keeps up the gentle stroking so that Yibo has… the space and time… to take in whatever is happening.

“And overwhelmed…” Yibo says finally, after a moment, sagging a little, and he squeezes him tighter to hold him up, inhaling the scent of Yibo’s hair, his lips moving in until it’s against the back of Yibo’s neck.

He closes his eyes, willing Yibo to feel his strength, his warmth, and know that he’s here, holding him up.

There are long moments of silence and then Yibo turns his head into the crook of his neck, burying his nose into his skin as if he wants to inhale him whole.

Yibo stays that way for still some time before he says, “He’s so overwhelmed… infatuation, lust, possessiveness, jealousy, love…. He really wants to leave the apartment to catch his breath so that he won’t overwhelm you but he’s afraid to let you out of his sight.”

He swallows hard as he hears Yibo’s description of that morning in his old kitchen.  His heart is hammering against his chest as he asks, “Why?”

Yibo’s arm squeezes tightly as he digs his nose into his neck and the next words are almost mumbled when he says, “He’s never felt like that before.  It’s like the pleasure is so intense it’s bordering on pain.  The happiness so over the top that it feels like time should just stop… in that moment… in that kitchen… where he can just fuse himself to you… and cease to be…”

His heart beats so loudly it’s the thunder of a thousand waterfalls in his ears.   To know how much Yibo had contained himself… hidden himself…

“Argh…” Yibo lowers his head until his forehead rubs against Xiao Zhan’s collar bone.  “He knows about Japan already, but he doesn’t want to tell you.  He wants to go, he thinks he needs to go… he needs to physically have an ocean between the two of you so… so…” Yibo pauses and he can feel him try to even out his breathing before he speaks again.  “So he can breathe without feeling completely consumed… Fuck, I think he’s a little crazy… he knows it too… he doesn’t want to scare you off by giving you the full gamut of his crazy…”

It shouldn’t be funny but the way Yibo says it makes him smile and Yibo lifts his head off his shoulder to look at him.

“How can you smile?  He’s crazy…. He’s so intensely crazy… No wonder he’s talking bullshit about Romeo & Juliet.  He thinks he’s the lead in some Greek tragedy.”

His smile dims and his stroking hand pauses on Yibo’s back.  “Isn’t he though?  That part of him burned that brightly for only a few weeks before it burned out… Maybe he could sense what was coming…”

He gazes off into the distance remembering Yibo as he had been during those weeks….  so larger than life in his affections, enthusiasm, pleasure, love… everything.

He looks back at Yibo when he realizes that he had been quiet too long.   And realizes that this is how they had been on that kitchen floor too, after Yibo had slid off the window sill, fatigued after pleasure had wiped him out.  He had fallen onto his shoulder and had let himself be held for a long time.

Strangely enough, the Yibo looking back at him now is the same one… just a different sort of fatigue… but the eyes were the same… infatuation or not… lust or not…

They hold each other’s gazes for a long moment before Yibo moves in to kiss him.  There’s a certain wistfulness to it and when they pull back, Yibo says, “You’re so potent, Xiao Zhan… you can’t really blame him…”

He feels some kind of way inside hearing that.

And says, “Me?  You should’ve seen yourself at Shalimar to really see potent…”

Yibo tilts his head.

“Taeyong and Doyoung didn’t tell you?” 

“Not really… well, they did about the Cherry Bomb part.  But the rest…” Yibo pauses.  “Taeyong is not one to pry.  But Doyoung did ask about you… So, clearly you left an impact.”

“Not in the way you think.”  He says.

Yibo raises an eyebrow.

“I think he figured out that there was something between us.”

Yibo ponders that and says, “Makes sense.  It must’ve been quite obvious how I felt about you.  Especially drunk.”

“Oh, you were trying to make me jealous.”

“I’m sure that was a fruitless exercise.”  Yibo mutters, looking away.

“Why?” He asks, digging his fingers into Yibo’s waist until he looks back.

“Since when do you feel jealous?”

“Since when do I not?  I feel jealous of every woman who has ever shared your bed.  I was so insanely jealous as soon as my eyes landed on Taeyong.  It’s the only time I have ever seen someone who could come even close to being at your level of… aesthetic.  Not to mention, you were having like a… soul connection or something… through dance.  Something I clearly have no aptitude for.  And he was just… cool, you know, for lack of a better word.  Like, even at rest, he holds himself in this way… like you do.” he finishes finally, blinking.

Yibo is quiet and he looks over at him.

Yibo stares at him for a long moment before he says, “Yea, no.  So much bullshit.”

“What?” he asks in surprise.

“Okay, Taeyong is cool and all, but for real though, no one who’s ever met me for two seconds in their life would honestly think I have shown any interest in anyone other than you.  So do not feed me that bullshit about you feeling jealous about anyone else when it’s obvious to everyone that for Yibo – version 1 or 800, memories or not, it’s always Xiao Zhan and no one else.”

His heart skips a beat and then several more as it strikes him that whether it’s the old Yibo or the new Yibo, the intense version or this one, they always did say the most earth-shattering things with the straightest face.

He thinks he will say something insanely corny in response, but at the last moment manages to flip the script and grin.  “Careful.  It’s talk like that that got you sucked off to within an inch of your life against that windowsill.”

Yibo’s expression doesn’t change for a moment and then a corner of his mouth tilts up in that quintessential Yibo smirk.

“You threatening to blow me?”

He pretends to think of that for a moment.  “If I remember correctly, the last time I blew you…”

“Literally 45 minutes ago…” Yibo cuts in, smirk still in place.

“It jumpstarted your brain, you fool.”  he finishes.

The smirk stays on for one more second before it disappears.

Yibo’s face turns soft and he leans in close to rub their noses together before he pulls back and says, “If you could feel what I felt that day in that kitchen, then you too would know why that memory was too powerful to disappear forever…”

He is no longer smiling when he pulls Yibo in to kiss him, lips open, drawing him in deep.  Yibo makes a surprised sound before he opens up with a moan, dragging them both down onto the kitchen floor.

And it strikes him that Yibo had finally referred to the old Yibo as I.

                                                                              xxxxxxxx

Chapter Text

He’s too drunk to be behind the wheels.  He hadn’t thought so, but it’s true.  His eyes are bleary and the headlights of the car opposite him feel like a laser, piercing his retina and blinding him, before it zooms by.  It’s dark outside and there is a mist that lingers that obscures everything even more.   He wants to pull over.  There is a light, he thinks, he’ll pull over after the light.   It’s green, he thinks. There’re no other vehicles around now to cue him and so he moves.  And doesn’t see the bike until it’s right in front of him.   He thinks he presses the brake pedal, but it’s the other one, and then his car is slamming into the bike.  The force ejects the rider so violently that when he falls, he doesn’t move at all.  And from a dark tunnel spreading around his vision, he watches the blood pool and flow from under the man’s skull.

“Xiao Zhan.   Xiao Zhan!” he hears the panic in Yibo’s voice and it he wakes him up.

He immediately reaches behind Yibo’s head, feeling for...

Yibo lets him, holding his gaze, and then says softly, “I’m okay.”

He closes his eyes and sighs before pressing the heels of his palms into them.  It’s a familiar nightmare.  There are some mild variations of it, but it all inevitably involves him driving the car that hits Yibo’s bike and he relives the accident as if he were there, watching Yibo bleed out.

It’s a private hell.  Only his mother had heard him call out Yibo’s name when he was still living with his parents.  And maybe a few more times when she stayed with him in the Clouds.  But then he had figured out that if he sets a vibrating alarm every hour, it would wake him up enough that he would never fall into REM sleep at least while she had been there.  By the time she returned home, he had been severely sleep-deprived, but nightmare free.  And she had been convinced that his nightmares had stopped.  But they had restarted as soon as he had stopped setting the alarms.  He needed proper sleep and so he just learned to coexist with the hell that slumber promised at regular intervals. 

“I’m okay too.”  He tells Yibo, pulling on his hand so that he would fall back on the bed.  “It won’t happen again tonight, so you can sleep without fear.”  he smiles, or attempts to, hoping that Yibo will let it go and return to sleep. 

But of course not.  Yibo wouldn’t be Yibo, or even a normal decent human being, if he did that.

“Tell me what you dream.”  Yibo says after he lies back down, taking his hand in his to absently stroke the top of his fingers.

He doesn’t try to mince words.  Frankly because he’s tired.  And it’s been a burden that he’s carried for too long.

“I dream that I’m driving the car that hits your bike.   At least once a week.”

Yibo absorbs that.  And then turns to him and says, “You mean, you dream that you kill me every week.”

“No.” “You don’t die.  I always wake up before that.”

Yibo turns back around, staring at the ceiling.  After a while, he asks, “Every week?”

“More or less…” he answers.

“I’m hard to kill, huh?” Yibo smirks and turns to him.

“Don’t be facetious.”

Yibo sighs.  “What else should I be?  Morose?  Morbid?  Philosophical?” 

He looks at Yibo and sees that the smirk is gone and that he is without any semblance of humor.  “Are you bothered?” he asks.

“Yes, of course.  You have had recurring nightmares about this for six months and I had no idea.”

“You have sex dreams and I dabble in the macabre.”  He offers now with a grin.

“Now who’s being facetious?” Yibo asks.

“Okay, yes, you don’t have a monopoly on inappropriate humor.”  he relents.

Yibo grins and turns to him.  “Why didn’t you tell me?”  he asks when his smile finally leaves.

“Never mind, don’t answer that.  Obviously, I know.  I just hate that it came to that, you know.  How did we go from being attached at the hip to barely speaking for six months?  If that was in the name of “love” then that’s a bullshit kind of love that I want no part of.”

He doesn’t comment. 

“Hey…” Yibo calls softly.

He looks up to meet Yibo’s eyes.  And then says, “How we started was also from not talking to each other.”

“What do you mean?”  Yibo asks.

He gazes off, remembering that day in the kitchen.  “Your mom’s not the best fan of your bike racing.  You know this.”

Yibo nods.

“Well, so she sort of used that as a bargaining chip to get you to go on a date with some friend’s daughter.”

“Yea, I remember you saying that before.  There’s definitely more to that story. No way I would have agreed to that.”

Ah, yes.  How to explain that.

“You didn’t.  I accepted on your behalf.”

“What?” 

“Yea, you had the same reaction back then too.  You were so pissed that you didn’t talk to me for ten days.”

“Bullshit.”  Yibo says.

“It’s true.” he counters.  “I sent you 53 texts over those days and you didn’t respond to one.”

“Let me see.” Yibo says.

“No!  I’m not letting you anywhere near my phone.”

“I won’t erase it, I promise.”

“On my life?” he asks.

“Fuck you.” Yibo answers.

He grins unintentionally.  Yibo still looks pissed, but nods.

He opens up the chat history and scrolls for ages before he finds the texts.

He gives it over to Yibo and while Yibo looks through them, he says, “It’s just all the same thing Yibo.  Nothing interesting.  I’m sorry.  I won’t do it again.  Please can we talk?  How long will you not talk to me… and on and on and on and on…”

He stops what he’s saying when Yibo suddenly rolls over and buries his head into the pillow.

“Yibo…” he moves closer to put his hand on Yibo’s back.  When Yibo doesn’t answer, he grows worried and calls softly, “Hey baby…”

“Fuck, I waited so long for you to come!”  Yibo says into the pillow.

What?

He pulls Yibo back by the shoulder, but Yibo doesn’t move back all the way, and all he can see is Yibo’s profile against the pillow.

“You remember?”  he whispers.  Out of everything, he wouldn’t have expected his repetitive texts from those days to trigger a memory.

“Yes, you asshole!”  Yibo says, pushing him away.  “You couldn’t be bothered to come see me after doing me dirty like that? Knowing I was that mad?  And upset?  You fucking sent me texts?"

For some reason, he grins like a fool that Yibo remembers this of all things, and pulls him back again to look at him.

Yibo doesn’t resist now and looks at him.  His eyes take on a glassy look and he reaches up to put a hand against his cheek and Xiao Zhan leans into it automatically, holding his gaze.

When Yibo speaks, his voice is soft.  “When you came out of the shower that day, your eyes all red and swollen, I think I realized then…”

“Realized what?”

“What I felt for you was not just friendship.”

He closes his eyes, leaning into the warmth of Yibo’s palm, remembering that day from so long ago.   The moment Yibo described…

“You’re remembering it wrong.  You didn’t really think of me any differently until I came out… which admittedly was only about an hour after that, but still…”

Yibo doesn’t acknowledge it, but instead says, “My heart was beating so loud when I saw you standing there and you looked as upset as I had felt all those days when I wished you would just read my mind and come over.  But you didn’t… For all that you spoiled me in a lot of ways, you also knew how to withhold the shit that really mattered, enough so that I really would feel its absence…”

He’s having trouble understanding.  He tries to remember back to that Yibo who had been lounging on that couch and had said something like You going to stand there half naked all day?

“It was jarring, whatever I was feeling.  But then, you tried to shut the door in my face and I tried to put on sports shows that you hated and… the moment passed.  But then…” Yibo pauses, eyes closing.  “But then, you attacked me and I punched back and then… you bit me.”

He remembers that scene now, how he had sunk his teeth into Yibo’s neck and later wished that it wouldn’t look like a love bite.

“I… felt that in the pit of my belly…” Yibo whispers finally, opening his eyes.  “It felt odd, like my body was hot and cold all at the same time.  And I had this weird urge to bite you back.  You looked so startled though, by what you had done, and it… snapped me out of it.”

He holds still, not wanting to interrupt the flow of Yibo’s memories… especially how much Yibo had hidden back then.

“But I felt weird… when you put that band-aid on me, I could smell your bodywash from the shower and it was… strange.  And when I lifted your shirt and saw the bruise that I had left on you…. And you apologized for… setting me up, I had this weird urge to want to touch this dot…” Yibo’s gaze drops to the mole below his lips.

“But you were getting pissed about something.  Walking away…”  Yibo pauses.  “Oh yes, about the harem that I evidently had at my disposal.”  Yibo’s expression turns then, distracted for a moment.

“You walked away, and I followed behind, although I couldn’t even focus because I kept staring at that sliver of skin just above your white t-shirt…”

“At the same time telling me that you didn’t think I was a sexual creature at all…” he reminds Yibo.

“I’m telling myself that… and then, bam, you turn around and goes, What the fuck do you know?  I sleep with both men and women! So there!”

Yibo closes his eyes.  “At first I thought you could see my weird thoughts and you were calling me out on it.”

“Yea, okay, right after you called me sexless…”  He murmurs, although now he leans over to drop a kiss against Yibo’s chin.

Yibo grabs him around the waist, his hands under his shirt, as he says, “I think I said some bullshit after that…”

“Yea, like asking me whether I didn’t tell you because I thought you would hit on me…” he says, smiling now at the memory.  “It was weird.  But I was too consumed with the thought of whether you would now think I want you that way…”

“You were going to touch my ear and I felt so oversensitive…”  Yibo pauses and then scrunches his eyes shut when he says, “Aargh… when you were in front of me by the microwave, I wanted to kiss you so bad.  I really thought I would, run my lips along that bit of skin above your t-shirt.  But you just got mad and elbowed me.  And I was so fucking confused about what was going on in my head.”

“Yea, because you asked me if I had ever been attracted to you.  It was like someone laid me out open in the blink of an eye – this thing I had hidden from you since we were both teenagers - and suddenly just from coming out, you had dug out all my secrets.”

Yibo opens his eyes then.

“How much more do you remember?” he asks.

“I have enormous issues with fidelity and commitment?”  Yibo says, narrowing his eyes.

Xiao Zhan sighs and drops his head against Yibo’s shoulder.  “Why can’t you just remember the good bits?”

“You’re such a fucking asshole, Xiao Zhan.”  Yibo says, with some feeling.  “How could you even say that shit to me?  I’m the most loyal asshole you’ve ever known.”

That makes him grin.  Only Yibo could be so incensed and matter-of-fact all the same time.

“I know. I’m sorry.”  he murmurs, pulling back Yibo’s shirt to kiss his collarbone.

“Don’t try to distract me.  I think you may have broken my fucking heart that day.”

“No, I didn’t.”  he says.

“Yes, you did.  And so casually too.”

“Yibo, I thought you were straight.  Come on!” he lifts his head to look at Yibo.  Who still looks mad, as if he’s getting mad about this for the first time.

“You weren’t mad back then.” he says, remembering. 

“Yea, I’m pretty fucking sure I was too heart-broken to be mad.  But now that I know you love me too, I can be mad about it, and not just an angsty idiot.”

“You’re so dramatic.”  he says.

“How is this a surprise to you?” Yibo asks.

He smiles again, catching Yibo’s eyes, that little pout that Yibo is often not conscious of the main indication that he is still offended.

“When have I not loved you?  I loved you then too.  You could have been mad if you wanted to be.”

“You didn’t love me the same way.”  Yibo says, looking away.

“I have always loved you enough that you could get as mad as you wanted to without worrying about it.”

It takes a moment, but then Yibo looks back, tilting his head.  “You have, haven’t you?”

“Come on.  How many other guy friends just casually go on and on about how much they love each other?  It’s the height of weird.  I’m surprised no one has called us out on this bullshit.”

“But it’s because it’s us.   Our friends have always seen us this way.  Why would they think anything different?”

“Lulu knows.”  he says.

Yibo looks back at him, eyes wide.  “She does?  How?’

“I don’t think we were all that circumspect about the whole thing towards the end there.  I’m sure I was leaking out with jealousy and affection and anxiety and lust.  Not to mention, she saw all the hickeys on my neck.”

“How did she know it wasn’t your… Yizhou?”  Yibo asks now.

That gets his attention.  “Why are you curious about that now?  You weren’t even jealous of him like you were of the nameless dude I dated in college.”

“Yea, but that was me.  You hid that from me.  This Yizhou, well, it’s like it happened when I wasn’t around in the world…”

That’s an odd way to put it.

“So, now that those memories are coming back, are you going to go ape-shit crazy when you see Yizhou?”

“Why?” Yibo asks, looking at him.  “Have I gone apeshit crazy before?”

He pauses to think of it.  “That day you had the accident on the tracks, you had seen him right before the race started.”

It takes Yibo a moment to connect all the dots and then he asks, his eyes wide, “Is that why you have nightmares about causing my accident?” 

He sighs.  “I don’t know Yibo.  Both times you had the accident, it had something to do with me.   Even if I can rationally explain it to myself that maybe it wasn’t my fault…”

“It wasn’t!” Yibo interrupts.

“…clearly some part of my brain is not convinced.” he finishes.

“I had a date there too.”  Yibo reminds him.  “So why couldn’t you bring a date?”

He looks away without answering.

“So what happened to the girl?  Did I just completely forget about her after the accident?”

He looks back.  “I left her there with you after the accident, thinking that it would be a good opportunity for you both to… you know… bond…”  That sounds lame even to his ears.

“Wait, you left me there with a girl that I had barely known three weeks?”

“Whom you were calling your girlfriend.” he interjects defensively.

“I’m pretty fucking sure I have called no one my girlfriend in my entire life.   You just assumed, probably.”

He tries to think back on whether that’s the case, but can’t recall now.

“Either way, that’s messed up.  Why would you leave me with her when I would clearly only want you?”  Yibo asks.

“Well, hindsight is 20/20, okay.  You came over anyways.  Acted a whole baby the whole night.  Had me cook for you and feed you and everything.”

The smirk is back on Yibo’s face and he says, “Yup, that sounds more like me.”

He remembers that night now.  “I dreamed of Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian that night… and woke up to us kissing…”

Yibo pulls his chin back to him.  “So the NCT night was not the first night we hooked up?”

He shakes his head.  “It was the night of your accident.” 

“Was it good?” Yibo asks.

He closes his eyes as he remembers.  “It’s you.  How can it not be good?  But petrifying at the same time.  All the more because it was so good.  And you wanted to keep going even after we woke up.”

“I’m sure you put a stop to it.”   Yibo rolls his eyes.

“Someone had to be the voice of reason.  If it were up to you, we would tumble headlong into sex without any forethought.”

Yibo looks back at him, mad again.  “I hate it when you say things like that.  As if I am only ruled by impulses.  If you know anything about my sex life, you would know that I am rarely the impulsive sort.  I am very deliberate.  Who I want to have sex with.  How I want to have sex.  Whether I think they want what I want and all that.”

“Well, I guess I didn’t know much about your sex life then.”  He replies, feeling defensive again.

“Fair enough.  But to imply that I would just hook up with you on a whim…”

“I didn’t mean that Yibo.  I just meant that you were unwilling to consider the possibility that it may not work out.”

Yibo is silent, but then sighs and relents.  “Yes.  You’re right.  With you, I’m sure it wouldn’t have even occurred to me that it wouldn’t work out.”

“You’re definitely the anchor in our relationship, okay?  I admit it.” he says then and Yibo turns to him in surprise.

“You’re brave one.  The sweet one.  The trusting one…” he adds on.

“Stop stop!” Yibo puts up a hand.  “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves here.  What a pity party you’re throwing yourself.”

“I’m praising you…” he grins.

“Yea, right.  In antithetical.  As if you’re a coward, and cold, and distrusting…”

He pretends to ponder that for a moment and says, smile still in place, “if the shoe fits…”

“It doesn’t.”  Yibo says and then, without warning, flips them over so that he is under Yibo. 

“This is the guy who stayed with me for a week straight after I got home from the hospital, catered to my every whim without being able to deal with his own trauma, and suffered enough sleepless nights that my mom ended up finding him sleeping in the bathtub, and then proceeded to move away from everything he knows just so he can recover, and then suffer six months of debilitating nightmares…”

“Okay, stop stop…” he says now, putting a hand up.  “You’re making it sound way more k-drama-ish than it actually was…”

“Am I?” Yibo asks.

He nods.

Yibo holds his gaze until his grin disappears.  And then leans it to ask, “I want to know what it feels like when you’re inside me…. Can we try?”

His eyes widen at this about-turn.  “You’re way out of practice…”

Yibo thinks of that and looks back to counter with, “So were you…”

Good point.

“Are you sure…”

“Yes!  Yes, I’m sure.  I want to do everything with you.”  Yibo answers, enthusiastically. 

And he hopes that Yibo doesn’t gain all his memories back so that he can have a repeat of all of Yibo’s greatest hits just like this, as if it’s all happening for the first time.

                                                                        xxxxxx

Chapter Text

The next morning, Yibo has to get to the studio early.  And by early, he means 5 am.

“Your life has completely changed, hasn’t it?”  he asks as he fills the flask with coffee and passes it to Yibo.  Yibo smiles as he takes the flask.  “It’s not so bad, actually.  It’s the only thing that kept me going in the beginning.  There were just days and weeks and months without you.  I used to ask my dad in the beginning if we could go back.  I could tell how painful it was for him to answer that question.  He didn’t want to deny me, but at the same time…  What could he say, really?  I would have probably gone mad without SM’s insane schedule.”   Yibo says as he swings the duffel bag onto his shoulder.

He is in the middle of pouring the coffee into his own flask, but pauses.

Yibo notices, and in the next moment, wraps him in a back-hug.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t around.”  he says, grabbing Yibo’s hand and pulling it up to his lips to press a kiss into his palm, which is slightly pink from the warm flask.  Yibo does flush easily. 

He lingers there, feeling that warmth, and presses another kiss, softly, wishing he never had to let go.

“I’m sorry that I wasn’t either.”  Yibo says, turning to press a kiss into his nape.

“Should I take you away to the Clouds?” He asks, bringing Yibo’s hand down against his chest, holding that warmth there.

He feels Yibo grin against the top knob of his spine and it tingles a little.  It makes him smile too.

“I thought you said I wasn’t Wei Wuxian.” Yibo says.

He focuses on closing his flask.  And then says, “Yibo, all my stories have you.  In some shape or form.  A character quirk here.  An anecdote there.  Or maybe some silly thing that’s only relevant to the both of us.”

He feels Yibo pause.  “They do?” 

“The first thing they teach you in writing class is to write what you know about.”  He turns around in Yibo’s hold and holds Yibo’s gaze.  “What do I know in life more than you?”

Yibo’s eyes soften, as does his smile.

And then those eyes narrow in suspicion.

“Where am I in Ten Miles of Peach Blossom?” Yibo asks.

“Li Jing.”  He answers, pursing his lips so that he won’t smile.

Yibo tilts his head in confusion before realization strikes and he looks back and smacks his shoulder. “The second prince of the Ghost Tribe?”

He nods, still biting down on his lips.

“That two-timing asshole?” 

“Oh, come on.  He redeems himself… sort of.”

“Bullshit!’

“Okay, let’s not focus on the loyalty part.  He was charming.  I mean, to make the almighty Bai Qian fall for him, he’s potent stuff…”

“And then to cheat on her… You know what, I’m not talking to you.”  Yibo says, pulling back in a huff, and walking out of the kitchen.

He grabs his own flask and moves to keep up.

SM’s studio is only a two-block walk from Yibo’s apartment and they walk briskly, beating the early morning cold.

“The guys really wake up this early every day?”  he asks.

Yibo doesn’t answer, still sulking.

He could let it be.  It’s silly enough to do so.  But he doesn’t want to.  And so, he pulls Yibo into the next narrow alley that comes their way.  There’s still not much in the way of light, dawn still waiting to break through, and he feels emboldened enough to press Yibo against the brick wall there and go right for the kind of kiss that makes Yibo’s dick hard.

Yibo’s reaction is immediate, opening up to let him in, and then growling a little when he grinds into him.

He pulls back when he feels himself starting to get hard.  No sense in taking this where it couldn’t go.  But he hoped he had made the point that he wanted to.

Yibo looks disoriented, his eyes closed and lips wet, still open a bit as if expecting him to continue.

He leans in and whispers in Yibo’s ear.  “All my characters who have any bit of charm are all based on your basic prototype.  But just your charm.”

“Bullshit.”  Yibo says when he opens his eyes.  “Given when you wrote that novel, you very much believed that about me too.  That I charmed women, made them fall in love with me, but was too much of a pleasure-chaser to know the first thing about commitment and fidelity.”

Okay, yea, he had a point.

“Am I not allowed to be wrong?” he asks after a moment.

Yibo is quiet, still a sullen turn to his mouth. 

And then abruptly says, “I want to be Ye Hua.” 

“You want to gouge your love’s eyes out?  And make them jump off the Zhu Xian Terrace?”

Yibo seems to consider that seriously.  And then says, “Okay, I’ll be Lan Wangji.”

“And abandon your love in his time of need.  Walking on a single-plank bridge into the night and all…”

“Wei Wuxian?”  Yibo asks, hopefully.

“And have the death of your sister and brother-in-law and your entire adoptive family on your hands?”

“That’s unfair!”  Yibo protests.

“Since when was life fair to Wei Wuxian?”  he asks.

Yibo seems upset about this, and then comes back with, “Dong Hua?”

He thinks of that.  Then smiles.   “Be Dong Hua.”

“Yea?”  Yibo asks.

He nods.

Yibo’s eyes narrow, “What am I forgetting about Dong Hua?” 

He laughs as he pulls Yibo out of the alley and back onto the road towards the studio.  “Your mother will be happy to know that she had nothing to do with your arrival on this green Earth.”

“Eh?”  Yibo asks, and then grins.  “That’s right.  Dong Hua was born from a rock.”

“So legend says.”  he answers.

He looks over at Yibo’s smiling face and turns around to walk backwards so that he can see it better.

Yibo lifts an eyebrow in question and he shakes his head and turns back around to walk alongside Yibo once more.

After a moment, he asks, not for the first time.  “You sure they won’t mind me coming along?” 

“I told you, I already checked.  Taeyong said he told the rest of the guys and they’re cool with it.  It’s a practice for one of the subunits, so it’s just six of them.” 

“Who?” he asks.

“Taeyong, Doyoung, Yuta, Johnny, Taeil, and Mark.”

He thinks he recognizes most of those names, but only Taeyong’s and Doyoung’s faces come to mind.

“You let me know when you start to get bored.  You have my keys anyways.  Just let me know you’re leaving and you can go back to the apartment.”

He nods. He has his laptop to work on, but he is only planning on staying for an hour or so.  He doesn’t want to make the guys feel uncomfortable.

They get to the studio by 4:45, an ungodly hour by any estimation, but Yibo doesn’t seem to mind.  He marvels yet again at the change in Yibo.  And now wonders if Yibo has always been this way and he had just willfully refused to see this side of him, only focusing on that part of Yibo that wanted unlimited attention and pampering.

When they turn into the hallway where the dance studio is, he can see light at the end, one room already evidently in use.

“Taeyong must already be here.”  Yibo says.

“He gets here that early?” 

Yibo nods.  “And he’s usually the last one out too.  If I didn’t know better, I would think he’s a machine.”

“Maybe he is.”  he murmurs, smiling.

Yibo shakes his head seriously though.  “I have seen him limp off stage with two people helping him off to the changing room.  When he’s not dancing, he’s always in a neck brace.  And I think he has fucked up his waist pretty bad.  Not that he’ll admit it.  He claims the neck brace is preventive.  I seriously haven’t met anyone as driven or disciplined as he is.”

They hear murmurs when they’re close to the door and slow down, looking at each other.  The door is ajar and from here, they can see a prone form on the floor, lying face-down.  There’s someone standing, literally, on the back of the person lying down.  His legs are spread, one foot on the shoulder blades and the other on the small of the back as he slowly rocks back and forth. 

There is a long groan in response from whoever’s on the floor.

“Taeyong.”  Yibo whispers.

He gestures to the floor and raises an eyebrow and Yibo nods.

He looks to the one standing on Taeyong’s back and Yibo whispers, “Doyoung.”

“Isn’t that dangerous?” he asks, looking back as Doyoung steps off and walks a bit down to press his foot onto the back of Taeyong’s thighs and then move down to his calf.

“Yea, if you don’t know what you’re doing.”  Yibo says and then clears his throat slightly before pushing the door open.

Doyoung looks their way.  Taeyong doesn’t.  Instead, he calls out, “Yibo?”

“Yea, it’s me.” Yibo answers.

“Xiao Zhan is here too.”  Doyoung says, looking down at Taeyong before he steps off fully and calls out a greeting in their direction.

He is a bit surprised that Doyoung remembers his name.   One meeting from a long time ago couldn’t have done that.

His question is answered soon enough when they walk over to the couple’s side and Doyoung says, “Xiao Laoshi. It’s an honor”, bowing a little before straightening.

He looks at Yibo and Yibo shrugs.

Doyoung smiles when he looks back at him.  “Yibo seems to have failed to mention this to you, maybe.  I’m an avid reader, so Yibo told me that you write web novels.  Gave me the links.  I have now read two of them.”

He looks at Yibo, his eyes wide, when Doyoung says, “He also told me that Chen Qing Ling has been picked up for a television adaptation.”

Taeyong sits up.

“And your producer is thinking of this face…” Doyoung looks down at Taeyong and tilts his face up by the chin.

Although Doyoung’s tone is amiable, Xiao Zhan feels self-conscious all of a sudden.  And a bit presumptuous for thinking that an idol of Taeyong’s caliber would have the time or energy to invest in their little project.

“It was just a passing thought…” he starts, but Doyoung interrupts.  “A very good one.  Especially because I’m now familiar with the novel.”

“Yibo would work too, don’t you think?”  Taeyong asks suddenly, looking at Yibo.

Yibo seems taken aback by the suggestion.  Then he scoffs and says, “Me, acting?  Ha!”

“I’m sure you can pick it up.”

“I’m sure I can’t.”  Yibo answers.

“Yibo, I auditioned for SM at the ripe old age of 18 by singing the national anthem because I didn’t know any other songs.  No dances either.”  Taeyong counters easily.

“You and I are not the same.”  Yibo answers. 

Wait, this sounds familiar.  “We are not the same.  Only One of Me.”  he says, remembering what Yibo had been rapping yesterday.

Yibo turns to him in surprise, which turns into a look of pride. 

Oh, Yibo felt pride at the silliest things.   And yet, he can’t help but smile back at Yibo.

“You listen to our music?” Taeyong asks, smiling.

“I’m new to it.”  he answers, honestly.

Taeyong nods.  “We are all new at some point.”  and then pointedly looks up at Yibo.

It takes Yibo a moment to catch the implication, and then he says, “Listen, I’m busy enough choreographing for you all.  Acting is just not in the cards.”

“You don’t have to, Taeyong.  I know you’re busy…” Xiao Zhan views the baton-passing to Yibo as a polite way of declining, but Taeyong turns to him and says, “Frankly, Xiao Zhan, just my face is not enough to do justice to Lan Wangji.  And… I come with some baggage.  I wouldn’t want that to affect your project.”

He doesn’t hear anything past the part where it seemed like Taeyong has read… “You read it too?”

“Hmm… Doyoung read it first and got obsessed with it.  I was too busy to pick up any sort of extended reading, but he read a few chapters to me on a long ride… and… as they say, the rest is history.”

He is not sure he understands.

“Did you… like it?” 

“A love story for the ages.   What’s not to like?”  Taeyong asks in return.

“So you’ll… consider it?”

“I’ve never acted before.”

“We are all new at some point.”  he gives Taeyong’s words back to him.

And this time, Taeyong looks at him and smiles. 

When he looks at Doyoung, it’s to see him winking, and then Doyoung drops down behind Taeyong and sinks the back of both elbows into the slope of Taeyong’s neck, which is met with a loud groan before Taeyong sways back into Doyoung. 

He looks at Yibo, who gestures to follow him to the other side of the room that held all the sound equipment. 

While Yibo sets up the audio for the practice, he unintentionally watches the couple from the corner of his eye.  Maybe his gaze turns wistful, because Yibo pretends to reach over for something behind him and drops a kiss against his arm. 

He looks at Yibo, startled. 

“You’re staring.  And your man’s right here.”

He smiles.  “Are they together?”  he asks.

Yibo shrugs.  “I can’t quite tell.  In some ways, they seem to be so in sync that it’s like they’ve known each other for ages.  But I don’t know yet if it’s just a really deep friendship or something more intimate.”

He looks back again and after a moment says, “They’re like each other’s home.”

When he turns back, Yibo’s eyes are soft.  “Home.” 

                                                                                                 xxxxx

Chapter Text

As planned, he doesn’t stay beyond an hour before returning to Yibo’s apartment.  He explores a bit for several blocks in the afternoon, but that only lasts until he finds a food market.  Then he decides to stock Yibo’s fridge and pantry and buys as many items as he can carry before heading back. 

As much as he would rather spend time writing, when he is too anxious, he can’t write.  He’s not anxious exactly, but he is not not anxious either, and so he cooks. 

Once he has made enough food to last Yibo a week, he moves onto baking.  He bakes white chocolate macadamia nut cookies – the nuts had been a surprising find at the market, the white chocolate he had had to go to another store for – and then bakes some brownies for himself. 

When he is done, he is tired – but in that contented sort of way – and takes a shower and changes into his pajamas before climbing on the couch with his glasses and laptop. 

Yibo had texted earlier to say that he will try to make it back by 8 – which is just a half hour from now - although he doubts it.  And so, he’s surprised when just as he gets going on a new chapter, he hears the doorbell ring. 

He looks at the clock.  It’s still five to 8. 

“Well, this is impressive.”  he says when he opens the door.

“What? I told you I’ll be back by 8.”   Yibo says as he walks inside, dropping the duffel bag on the stool by the door. 

“Oh.”  Yibo pauses, then looks back with his eyes wide.  “Did you cook?”  And then rushes to the kitchen without waiting for an answer.   

He had left the cooled cookies covered with foil in the oven as a surprise for later, but a few of Yibo’s favorite dishes were on the stovetop.  He may have gone overboard with the coriander leaves – but he didn’t think Yibo would ever complain about an overabundance of coriander leaves in anything. 

When he walks into the kitchen, Yibo is standing by the stove, tasting every dish with the same spoon.

“Oh my God, for this alone, I would marry you in every life.”  Yibo says finally, after sampling the last dish, closing his eyes in something close to ecstasy.

“Pfft.  Then everyone would marry their chef.”  he says, uncovering the plate where he has kept the rolls that he had baked.

They were Yibo’s favorite rolls that his mother baked.  Once upon a time, Yibo had insisted that he learn the recipe so that he could make it when Yibo was fighting with his mom, and given how frequently that occurred, he had gotten pretty good at baking them.

Yibo’s eyes widen when he sees them and he moves to grab three of them at the same time.

“You didn’t eat lunch?” he asks, seeing how hungry Yibo is.

“Did I?”  Yibo closes his eyes as he stuffs almost an entire roll into his mouth.

“You’re going to choke, idiot.”  he says, patting Yibo’s back when he does indeed start coughing.

Yibo’s eyes water but his smile is wide, cheeks bulging out on either side with bread.

“Go sit.  I’ll make you a plate.”

Yibo shakes his head and focuses on chewing and swallowing before he attempts to speak again.

“Yes, make a plate.  But I’m disgusting.  I need a shower.”

“Okay…” he doesn’t get to finish before Yibo hugs him tight.

“I already took a shower, asshole.  You want me to smell like your sweat?”  he asks, even though he lets Yibo hug him as tightly as he wants.

“My sweat is designer.”  Yibo says and pulls back with a smirk.

He makes a cringing face, “I’m starting to understand how narcissism is just wired into your DNA and no amount of memory loss is going to shake that.”

It only makes Yibo grin as he pulls off his t-shirt and walks off to the shower.

He leaves the plate of food for Yibo on the coffee table and climbs back on the couch, sitting cross-legged with his laptop. 

Yibo returns within ten minutes and falls onto the couch, pushing aside the laptop so that he can put his head on his lap.

He manages to hold onto the laptop and then places it on the side table.

“That’s my life’s work.”  he says, trying to sound miffed.

“Your life’s work is maligning my character through your writing?”  Yibo asks, peering up at him as he chews on a new roll.

“First of all, if you stuff your belly with bread, all the rest of my cooking will have gone to waste.  Second of all, all my characters based on even tiny bits of your personality have huge fan bases.  Just the other day, I got a comment from a reader who did not care for Ten Miles of Peach Blossom at all, Ye Hua and Bai Qing’s power notwithstanding, but still suffered through the entire novel just for Li Jing, even though they said it was some bad writing on my part to turn him into a cheater.”

Yibo quirks an eyebrow in interest.  “For real?”

He nods. 

That gets him a smug grin.  “Just so you know, I think they’re entirely right.”

He pulls off his glasses and places it on the side table.  He only needed them for reading, so they tended to give him a headache if he wore them for too long otherwise.

“Is that right?”  he asks.

Yibo nods.  “How cliched to make him into a cheater.  It would have been more original if Ye Hua had been the one who cheated.”

“But then Ye Hua wouldn’t be Ye Hua.  And certainly not worthy of Bai Qing’s love.”

“I hate that argument, you know.”  Yibo says, not entirely joking.

“What argument?”

“This “being worthy” of someone’s love. That’s all bullshit.  If that was the case, only the best people in the world would find love.  Fortunately, love doesn’t discriminate like authors do.”

He pauses to think about that.

“Just this author.”  he says finally, looking down at Yibo. 

When Yibo looks at him, the rest of the bread in his mouth, Xiao Zhan brushes the strands of wet hair back from his forehead.

“What do you mean?”  Yibo asks, mumbling his words around the bread.

“You may not remember this, but once upon a time, you said that I was a bit too idealistic in my notions of love.”

Yibo stops chewing and tilts his head.

“I think you said that you didn’t see me in a sexual way because you thought I was waiting for this perfect sort of love, maybe something out of this world, you know.  eternal.  longsuffering.  unshaken. etc. etc.”

If Yibo remembers, he doesn’t show it, but just watches him, wanting for him to continue, maybe.

“You said my novels were all filled with that sort of thing, of unrealistic characters and implausible scenarios…”

“I never said that.” Yibo interrupts.

Ah, so he did remember.

“You did about Lan Wangji.  As for the rest, you implied it.”

“Well, most of Lan Wangji is unrealistic.  Why else do you think Taeyong is so afraid to take the role on?  At best, he will be appreciated as a pretty face.  At worst, they will say that just standing there like a wooden statue does not give life to the paragon of virtues that Lan Wangji is in the novel.”

“But he is not though, in your own words.”

“Which words were those?” Yibo asks.

He tries to think back to the first time that Yibo had raised issues with Lan Wangji. 

“Narcissistic, Anal-retentive, Boring as fuck.  Weird relationship with pronouns.  No man is an island, but that man certainly tries.” 

Yibo almost spits out the bread and starts coughing, and he has to pull him up by the arm and smack him on his back again, muttering, “Seriously, your eating habits are worse than a toddler’s!”

Yibo is laughing when the coughing fit fades and then says, “I’m glad all my corniness did not kill my sense of humor.”

“Oh, this is before you discovered your liking for me and thus unleashed the corny Kraken.”

Yibo goes silent for a moment and then turns in his direction.  “Have you said that to me before?” he asks.

“What?”

“Unleashing the corny Kraken…” Yibo says.

He thinks back.  “I’m pretty sure I have, probably.  You know, I’m not the most original with my jokes.  When I land on a good one, I like to repeat them at least three times.  Although preferably with an audience that has not been subjected to it before.”  he mutters as he tries to remember.

“Something about Neptune…” Yibo adds, lying back down on his lap now, eyes closed.

And then he remembers when he had said it.

And he looks down at Yibo and smiles, tapping the tip of his nose lightly.  “Sex is the fastest way to get you to remember anything.  I’m going to only tell you important things from now on during sex.  In the event you lose your freaking memory again and I need to make you remember.”

Yibo is quiet though, eyes still closed.

He lets him be, stroking his hair again.

After a while, he sits up with a smile and finishes his dinner, putting on Running Man and giggling like a maniac, propelling another coughing fit.

“Fuck, how have you not choked to death?”  he asks.

That just makes Yibo turn back to him to kiss him on his cheek.  “Eating Ramen alone doesn’t make me giddy enough to choke to death.  I blame you and you alone for this.”

“For what?” he asks.

“Making me giddy!  What the fuck am I going to do when you go back?”  he sighs when he turns back to the tv.

He tries not to think of that.  And so, he makes light of it.  “Well, at least you won’t choke on your food.”

“I would rather choke to death.”  Yibo says off-handedly.

His chest gives a dull thud and his stomach breaks out in butterflies.  And he thinks that he doesn’t deal well with either because he puts his glasses back on and mutters, “Well, I would rather you not.  Finish your food and go look in the oven for the rest of it.”

“What else did you make?”  Yibo asks excitedly.

When he discovers it after dinner, Yibo brings the whole plate of cookies into the living room. 

“How many are you going to eat?” he asks.

“We’ll see.” Yibo is confident.

Although Yibo only makes it to two bites before he stops and turns in Xiao Zhan’s direction.

“What?” he asks.  “Is it not good?”

Yibo puts the cookie down and disappears into the bedroom.  

When he returns, it’s with lube in his hand and Xiao Zhan manages to put the laptop back on the side table before Yibo pulls his legs out from under him and climbs on top of him.

“What happened?” he asks, although he has trouble speaking when Yibo buries his head into his neck, sucking the skin there into its wet heat, pulling down both of their pajamas to rub their dicks together.

By the time Yibo answers the question, he has forgotten that he had asked it altogether. 

“The last time I had these…” Yibo says after a long while, biting into a cookie, licking the gooey white chocolate off with the tip of his tongue.

“Was the first time we did this…”  he finishes.  His cock is buried to the hilt inside Xiao Zhan and he groans when Xiao Zhan moves up to take him in even more, whispering a “fuuuck…”

Fuck, indeed…

                                                                          xxxxxxxxxx

Chapter Text

Yibo’s head is on his chest, face turned on its side, deep in sleep.  The TV is still on, now on mute though, the programming having changed several times already since Running Man.  He is reading an article on his phone, not wanting to move and wake Yibo up.  At some point, they’ll have to move into the bedroom, but for now, he is content to stay here on the couch like this, Yibo sleeping soundly on him like he didn’t have a care in the world.

At some point, he starts absently combing his fingers through the hair at the base of Yibo’s neck.  It’s an indulgent sort of thing, but it eventually wakes Yibo up. 

Yibo turns his face to look up at him, eyes sleepy, and then wraps his arms tighter around his waist, putting his face back down the same way. 

When he pulls his hand back, Yibo says in voice husky with sleep, “No, keep doing it.”

He smiles to himself as he moves his fingers back into place.

His eyes are still trained on the phone screen but now his mind wanders.  He thinks there are wisps of thoughts floating here and there that he wants to collect together to form into something… something that he wants to tell Yibo.  But they float on by, not quite materializing into anything of substance as yet…

It’s Yibo who speaks first.  “Tomorrow is going to suck.” 

Ah yes.  That…

“So is the day after.” he answers.

“And the day after too.”  Yibo says, lifting his face again, pouting.  “It’s all going to suck for a while.”

He moves the hand in Yibo’s hair to the front of his face, holding it against his cheek and Yibo leans into it.

Yibo closes his eyes and sighs.  “It’s good that I had all these months to be away from you to get used to this, otherwise, I would honestly just quit and come back with you.  Be a little parasite clinging onto you all the time.”

He laughs at that image.  “You love what you do at SM.”  he says as a reminder.  “And what do they say, Absence makes the heart grow fonder.”

“That doesn’t apply to us.”  Yibo says, face still tilted against his palm.

“Why not?”

“We’ve spent our whole lives together.  When has our fondness diminished?”

“You want me to move here?” he asks abruptly.

Yibo opens his eyes.  He watches those eyes turn soft and then Yibo moves up his chest until their faces are close enough to press a kiss to his lips.

When Yibo pulls back, Xiao Zhan’s arms go around him to adjust to their changed position.

“I didn’t say that lightly.”  he says.

“I know.” Yibo says.  “As much as I would like to think you cooked all these things just for me, I also know it’s because you were an anxious bug all day…”

His eyes lower at that and he knows better than to deny it.  Especially to Yibo.

“Besides, I’m barely here.  As you can tell…” Yibo looks around the apartment as if to make his point and indeed, there is very little here other than basic furnishings and the TV.  Yibo’s gaming set is the only personal touch to the entire place.

“I would rather come to that little oasis you call heaven.”  Yibo says, looking back.

“The Clouds.” he corrects with a smile.

“Yes, yes, The Clouds…. I would rather come there to visit you even if it’s every few months.”

Yibo pauses after that as if a thought just struck him.   “Unless you’re planning on moving back home.”

“I haven’t thought of that yet.”  he murmurs.  “I haven’t been well enough to even think of that until recently.” 

He is startled when Yibo hugs him, pulling him up to wrap him into an almost suffocating embrace.

“We’re both a bit fucked up without each other, don’t you think?  Why don’t we just fix it and be together for real?”

That takes him aback.  “Aren’t we together?” he asks, trying to pull back, although Yibo is still holding on too tight to pull back.

“Yea, but I mean, together together.”

He thinks of this.  “We’ve had sex in every which way possible.  I don’t know how many more ways there are to be together together.”

Yibo lifts his head at this, eyes narrowed and lips pinched into a flat line.  “For someone who writes as much romantic fantasy…”

“I object!  I write fantasy fiction.” he interrupts vehemently.

“Yea, whatever.”

“No, no whatever!  the romance is not the main point.  It’s just a point.  That’s a key difference!”

“Well, for someone who only writes romance as a point, you certainly have some hardcore star-crossed lovers in your stories!” 

“Star-crossed?   Star-crossed?   Argh!  They go through trials and tribulations just like everyone else.  It’s not like the entire purpose of the rest of the world is to keep them apart.”

Yibo’s forehead wrinkles at how seriously he is taking it.  And he wonders why he is taking this seriously too.

He sighs and then says, “I… just hate it when a lot of people suffer for one couple’s love.  Or when it seems like their love is so important that it becomes the focal point of everyone else’s attention.  That makes no sense to me.  Their love is their own.  It’s important to them, yea, true.  But to pretend that it is so important to everyone else that it consumes the entire story and everyone else’s life, that’s just bullshit.”

When he sees Yibo stare at him intently, he knows he’s erred somewhere.  Given something away without really thinking it through.  Yibo is good at reading him.  Even thoughts of his that he’s not entirely aware of yet.

“Did a lot of people suffer because of our love?”  Yibo asks.

He sighs then and closes his eyes, sliding down on the couch to put his head against the armrest.

“And they don’t even know the extent of it.”  he says, remembering his parents and Yibo’s parents and their friends.

Yibo is quiet, waiting for him to say more.

“I couldn’t figure out how to get out of the funk I was in and I was sort of dragging them down with me.”  He opens his eyes finally and says, “They were so sad, Yibo.  All of them.  Your mom.  My mom and dad.  Lulu, Ziyi, Ji Li, Haikuan, even Yubin, and you know, I’ve never really seen a glum look on his face in my entire life, I don’t think.”

“That’s not true.  You know he moped around for an entire week when Irene didn’t write back to him in high school.”  Yibo says.

“Which Irene?” 

“Red Velvet.”  Yibo says, seriously.

He bursts out laughing.  And Yibo does too. 

“He’s more bi-curious nowadays though.”  he says off-handedly.

“What?” Yibo asks, astounded.

“Ah, you don’t remember this, but when you made the proclamation that you were going to start dating men, he volunteered.”

“No shit!” Yibo says.

“Oh yea, but with the condition that it had to be a threesome with Haikuan.”  he adds, wiggling his eyebrows.

Yibo’s eyes widen.  “Waaaait… you think he likes… Haikuan?” 

“Hmm… I don’t think it’s full-throttle, but I do think he’s curious about what that might be like.”

“And what about Haikuan?”  Yibo asks.

Here, Xiao Zhan pauses.  “This is definitely conjecture on my part.  And likely with no truth whatsoever to substantiate it.  But…”

“But…” Yibo prompts, impatient.

“I think Haikuan has a soft spot for…”

“Ziyi?”  Yibo finishes.

“You think so too?”  He looks up, eyes wide.

“It’s more like this feeling.  But if you asked me to recall any particular event or instance that made me think that, I wouldn’t be able to tell you.”

“But clearly there’s something there if I thought so too…”

“Yea, but we clearly share a brain cell.”  Yibo says off-handedly, still pondering the unlikely pairing.

“We do not.”  he counters.

Yibo looks back at him, with a smirk.  “Oh yes, we do.  Exactly one.  One brain cell.  And even that is far too exaggerated.”

“Are you calling us fools in love?”  he asks, offended.

“If the shoe fits…”

“It doesn’t!” 

“Ah, you take all this shit so seriously.  You know, for a romance writer…”

“I will murder you…”

“Ahem, a fantasy fiction writer, you have major issues with the idea of love.”

“No, I have major issues with the idea of infatuation, often confused with love.”

Yibo rolls his eyes.  “What does it matter? Every fool is infatuated before they’re in love.  And when you’re infatuated, good luck convincing you it’s not love.”

“We weren’t.” he counters.

“We weren’t what?” Yibo asks.

“We were in love long before we became infatuated.”

What?

Yibo goes quiet at that, and then asks, his voice low.  “Were we?”

He swings an arm above his eyes, shielding them, trying to buy some time to think. 

Yibo doesn’t attempt to pull his arm off, but kisses him on the lips nevertheless.

“We were never infatuated, FYI.”  Yibo says when he pulls back from the kiss.

“You can say that after reading all your corny texts?” he asks, taking his hand off to look at Yibo, now smiling.

Yibo ponders that.  And then says, “I still don’t remember a lot of things.  But I remember enough now to know that that wasn’t infatuation.”

“Then what was it?”  he asks, his smile fading.

“Desperation, maybe.”

“Why?”

“To convince you to stay.”

“Where was I going to go?” 

“I don’t know.  Somewhere safe.  You like safe.  I’m not always safe.”

He pulls Yibo closer to him without thinking.  “What makes you say that?”

Yibo looks down at him and thinks.   “I don’t know…”

And then a moment later, Yibo asks, “Was… Yizhou like that?  Safer than me?”

And all of a sudden, everything from those weeks start playing back in his head from a different angle, although why it had not occurred to him before is now a mystery. 

What was it that Yibo had said back then? 

I always thought you sort of enjoyed my brattiness too, because it was my own way of giving you attention.  But I didn’t realize that it came across as me just taking and taking from you without giving anything back.  I sort of thought I gave you pretty much my all.

But I hear from Ji Li that Yizhou is perfect at this. He gives in a way you can understand.   That you like.  I guess I have a lot to learn.  Not even romantically.  But just in general.

He looks back at Yibo now, his gaze softening as he leans up to kiss him.  “No one’s been safer than you.  More giving than you.  More loyal than you.  More loving than you.”  He punctuates each line with a kiss.

Afterwards, Yibo leans down to kiss him again, this one long and lingering.

And when he pulls back, Yibo says, “and this all brings me back to my original point…”

“There was an original point?” he asks.

“Yes, before you rudely cut me off, taking issue with being a romance writer.”

“For the love of God, I’m not…”

Yibo just smirks though and says, “Let’s get married.”

It stops his tirade mid-way.

“What?” he asks, and for a moment it’s just white noise in his head.

“We’re both fucked up without each other, so let’s just fix it and be together together for real.  Remember?”  Yibo says as if recapping a “Story so far” they show at the beginning of a drama.

When he finds his voice, he manages to croak out, “And by that you meant…”

“Yea, let’s seal the deal and be together together.  In the eyes of Man and God and all that jazz.  Get married.”  Yibo nods.

                                                                     xxxxxxxxxxx

Chapter Text

When he will look back on that moment later on in life, what he will always remember is the way Yibo smelled. The whiff of the drugstore shampoo clinging to his now dry downy hair. It was the kind that Yibo had used forever, but it was the first time that that realization struck him. That Yibo had never changed his shampoo in all this time. Even after leaving home and moving to Seoul, he had just taken extras with him. Smelling the same as he always has.

In the moment though, he looks at Yibo and thinks Yibo can see the panic start in his eyes and before he even gives voice to what it is, Yibo whispers, “Just us, baby. No one else. Well, for now, at least. Just you and me. And yes, a witness. And probably a Justice of the Peace to bless it and give it some legal binding somewhere.”

He didn’t even know that had been the cause of his panic. Telling the world about them. Not that he didn’t want to at some point. But in some ways, this felt even newer than the last time. And too precious still to not want to keep it to themselves for a bit longer.

He sinks into the couch and pulls Yibo in closer. “Why?” he asks.

Yibo drops his forehead against his and says huskily, “I want to wear the ring you put on me. And I want you to wear the ring I put on you.”

His eyes close and his arms tighten around Yibo’s waist.

A moment later, Yibo lifts his head. He opens his eyes to find Yibo looking down at him intently. “And also, if anything ever happens to either of us again, you’ll know that there is no option other than to claim me because I am your husband.”

He holds that gaze and then closes his eyes as he remembers the helplessness that he had felt that day in the hospital when he had discovered that Yibo had forgotten about them.

“If I didn’t feel the way I did and act the way I did and practically attack you that day in the bathroom, what would you have done?” Yibo asks.

He doesn’t answer. Because he thinks both of them know the answer.

Instead, he asks, “What would you have done had you been in my place?”

“I would have kissed you and made you remember!” Yibo says immediately.

“No, you wouldn’t have.” he answers.

“How do you know?” Yibo asks.

“Yibo, because of some sleep-induced ramblings of mine from the hospital, you wondered for months if you had done something to hurt me. Even after we got together again, you wanted so many reassurances that you hadn’t, even with well-meant coercion.” he pauses and looks at Yibo before he speaks again. “I think it’s easy to speak in hypotheticals. But when you are in that situation and you think I have gone back to only liking women, I don’t think you would try to kiss me and make me remember that way.”

Yibo doesn’t refute it, but after a moment, smirks. “Okay then, I would have figured out how to seduce you again.”

That makes him smile. “Yea, that you probably would have done.”

“Are you sure that’s not what you did?” Yibo asks now, narrowing his eyes.

“What part of what I did seemed like a seduction to you?” he asks.

“Eh, everything. First of all, that hug in your bedroom.”

“You mean, when you hugged me?” he tilts his head.

“Yes.”

“How did I seduce you when you hugged me?”

“I told you, the way you smelled, I wanted to burrow my face into your skin.” The smirk is gone now and Yibo seems lost in thoughts. “I was so happy to see you though and I had missed you so much that I was just…” he looks back now and smiles, “I think I literally wanted to eat you like a cookie. You know how you crave it sometimes when you haven’t had it in a while and you can almost taste how that first bite would feel. It was like that. I could almost taste in my mouth how you would feel…”

“You are so oral.”

“Oh, I am. But when I saw you again the next time at your place… and you hugged me tight when you opened that door the second time… and whispered, “I’m sorry, I thought you weren’t real…” Yibo pauses, no longer smiling… “My heart was beating so hard… in that weird sort of way like those characters in your novels. Honest to God, it has never happened to me before… well, clearly it had, but not any that stayed in my memory. And I didn’t even understand it at first. I thought it was just a reaction to how emotional you were. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you that way before…”

“You could probably feel that I was in love with you.” he offers quietly.

Yibo thinks of that for a moment before he nods, looking down at him. “Maybe… In hindsight…”

“You barely touched me that weekend. So, I thought you had figured out how I felt about you and felt weirded out.”

“Honestly, I was so worried that I would pop a boner abruptly.”

He laughs.

“You laugh now. But you would have been alarmed then had it happened.”

That gets him to stop laughing. “I wanted nothing more than to touch you again… even if it would be like the old days when we were just friends, I wished you would… hug me in that way of yours… or incite me into throwing punches…”

He can see Yibo’s pupils dilate as he says, “Did you forget falling off the couch, fighting for your phone?”

“I almost kissed you then.”

He can feel Yibo start to get hard and it makes him rock against him a bit.

Yibo buries his face against his neck and groans, “I love how horny you are for me.”

That goes straight to his dick and he grinds a bit harder as he bites Yibo’s ear lobe. He can feel the shiver and laugh go through Yibo at the same time and he retaliates by biting into his neck. When Yibo pulls back, his voice is so deep that it is just a vibration against his skin. “And the time after that, when you opened that door, staying awake for me until 2 in the morning with that soup that I wanted to eat so bad…”

“Wait, what?” he asks, cutting in.

Yibo nods. “I knew you would cook something and wait up, so I didn’t want to eat. But then when you opened the door, I knew I was in so much fucking trouble, and I just wanted to punish you for all the things that I was feeling… and thought I was alone in feeling…”

“So you purposely refused food that I had cooked at midnight just for you?”

“Hmm… I know, I can be a masochist sometimes. Can I tell you though? that was a weird weekend. I honestly liked seeing you hurt and I wanted to keep hurting you until you broke down and figured out what I was feeling. But you were so insanely long-suffering that it just made me even more pissed off. I thought you were never going to stop treating me like this poor little lost boy whose tantrums you were going to indulge no matter what, when all I wanted to do was take off your clothes and see for myself if you tasted as good as I dreamed of.” Yibo’s gaze trains in on his mouth then and says, “I was so distracted by your lips and this little tiny mole… I was worried that you would catch me staring and think I’ve become some sort of perv.”

His gaze drops to Yibo’s mouth… and… fuck… that mouth has given him so many wet dreams… he lifts his hand then to trace his index finger along the edge of Yibo’s lower lip. His gaze moves up to Yibo’s for a moment, sees how heated those eyes are now, and then moves back down to those lips.

“I have made myself come so many times just remembering…” he whispers, staring…

“Did I suck you off?” Yibo asks and he can feel how hard Yibo is, nestled just under his own hard cock.

“Hm…” he answers, his eyes closing. “You liked having me lie down with my eyes closed while you sucked me off… because you said I enjoyed it the most that way… with nothing to focus on other than the pleasure of getting blown…”

Yibo grinds against him… “I bet I liked all the noises you made…”

He moans a little now and moves his hand down to push Yibo’s pajama pants down.

“You loved them… it made you take me in deep while you played with your cock at the same time.” He pulls his own pants down.

“Fuck.” Yibo says and he notices that Yibo has already squeezed out more lube onto his fingers. In the next moment, he feels two of them slip inside him. He is still stretched from earlier. And he’s so horny, he is more than ready.

“I want your cock, baby.” 

Yibo just growls now as he pulls his fingers out and pushes his dick in.

He groans as it immediately rubs against his prostate.

“Fuck fuck… how are we going to do this on the phone? on video? I want to fuck you like this every night.”

“Ambitious.” he answers, encouraging Yibo to start moving.

“Maybe you can wear a plug, so that way when I come in after a long day of practice and you’ll have fallen asleep with these glasses and laptop, I can just pull out the plug and slide in and carry you off to bed just like that.”

That image makes him smile. “What an enormous plug I would need to keep me stretched enough to take you.”

Yibo is moving in and out slowly, leisurely, not chasing the pleasure, but lingering along the way.

“Husband rights.” Yibo answers, the smirk back.

“You’re serious about it?” he asks as he smooths his hands down Yibo’s back.

“Of course. Why, you don’t want to?”

“I do.” he says, eyes closing in pleasure when Yibo’s cock rubs deliciously against just the spot.

“Say it again.” Yibo says, pulling out and coming back in to rub the same way.

“I want to marry you, baby. Be your husband. Have you be mine, too. Wear your ring. Know that you are wearing mine too. And know that however far you are from me, you will be home soon enough.”

Yibo seems pleased, because that gets him two quick thrusts that makes him grind his teeth, but then Yibo asks, “And?”

“And?” he returns.

Yibo raises an eyebrow. He smiles and pulls Yibo back to him and bites Yibo’s earlobe again before he whispers, “Thank you, Yibo. For taking such good care of me, for literally tying me up with shoelaces so that I wouldn’t flee, for making me tell you things that I wouldn’t have volunteered, for giving me the best railing of a lifetime…”

Yibo pulls back suddenly, confused.

Xiao Zhan laughs. 

And sees the moment when Yibo remembers.

“Touche.” Yibo says then. “Wei Wuxian Boner Killer.”

His laughter dies down to a smile as he nods.

Then even the smile leaves as he adds, once again giving Yibo back his own words, “You know better than anything you’ve ever known in your entire life that I love you to pieces.”

“I was corny, wasn’t I?” Yibo says now, smiling into his neck.

“Hmm… you were just a cauldron of corny and horny and boney…” he pauses now as both his hands linger on the curves of Yibo’s bum. “All this dancing has made you all muscle.”

“You like it?” Yibo asks.

His touch is a caress over those muscles as Yibo starts moving again. “I want to bite it.” he answers.

“I’ll arrange for it as soon as we say our vows.” Yibo whispers as he starts pumping in and out in earnest.

xxxxxx

Chapter Text

T minus 6 weeks:

He reads through the last page of what he had written one more time.   And falls back on the fluffed up pillows behind him, his glasses popping low on his nose from the motion.  He only gets a few minutes in that state before his phone vibrates.

He picks it up without looking and answers, “Hmm…”

“Damn, we’re not even married yet, and I already get the hmm.”  Yibo’s deep voice comes through. 

“You got jokes at midnight?  SM must not be working you hard enough.”  he answers, moving his glasses back up when he finds himself squinting at the screen. 

“Why don’t you just magnify that screen to like 200% instead of squinting?”  Yibo asks.  He looks down at the phone to see if he had accidentally enabled video call instead of voice call.

No, he hadn’t. 

“How did you know I was squinting?”

“Your voice gets all nasally when you squint and speak at the same time.” 

“No, it doesn’t.” 

“Someone’s in a good mood.”

He sighs, closing the laptop and leaning back against the pillows, pulling off his glasses.

“How was your day?”  he asks. 

It’s been two months since he returned from Korea.  Since then, Yibo had gone on three tours, two with NCT and one with a girl group that had debuted a year ago.  That was the most recent one and the shortest thus far, just three days in Taiwan.  Yibo had returned to Seoul only last night.  Although already he was back to his 12-hour days at SM.

“Glad to be back to NCT.”  Yibo says.

“Why?  Have you developed a sudden aversion to the other sex?”

Yibo doesn’t answer.

“Yibo?”  he calls.

“No.  Of course not.”  Yibo says now.

“What was that pause for?”

There’s a sigh on the other end before Yibo says, “Shit, why did God have to make me so irresistible?”

He bites down on his lips so that he won’t laugh out loud, but Yibo must hear him on the other end because he is offended for himself, exclaiming, “I’ll have you know that at least three of those girls were openly flirting with me.”

“Is that right?”  he asks, still smiling.

He hears Yibo sigh again.  “Ah, how life has changed.   I used to enjoy the pleasures of the flesh with abandon.  And now…”

“Oh, don’t hold yourself back for my sake.”  he cuts in, his smile disappearing.

Yibo goes silent at that. 

“Well, okay then, have a good night.”  he says, preparing to hang up.

“I hate it when you do shit like that.”  Yibo says at the other end.

“And I hate it when you do shit like that.”  he answers in kind.

“What did I do?” Yibo asks.

“Fuck, if you miss sex, go and have it as much as you want.  Do not put that shit on me.” 

“What the fuck, asshole?  What does that mean?”  Yibo asks, mad now.

“Did I stutter?” 

“Oh, wow.  No, you didn’t stutter.  You just sounded like a defensive dishonest douchebag who can’t just say, Fuck baby, I miss you too.  I want to sleep with you too.”

“A douchebag?  Did you just call me a douchebag?”  he asks, his voice squeaking at the end.

“Yes, Douchebag. Entirely unnecessary for its intended purpose and frankly a bit offensive.  Just like this argument.”  Yibo answers as if he had that answer on the ready.

That gives him pause.   “Wait, did you read that somewhere?”  He has to know. 

“Why?  Can’t I have come up with that on my own?”

“Why, have you spent that much time thinking about douche?” 

There’s a moment of silence and he can almost imagine Yibo grinning at the other end when he hears, “Touche.”  And then, “Once in the middle of practice, Ten told Johnny to not be a douchebag.   Johnny thought the term was offensive to women.  And you know Ten.  Boy always got a comeback for everything.  So, he said, “No, that term has nothing to do with women.  The idea that a vagina has to smell like synthetic potpourri is the offensive part.  So, there, douchebag.  Stop being stupid.”  

“So you straight up lifted his entire thesis to beat me at our fight?”  he asks after he finishes listening, eyes narrowing. 

There is a pause.  And then Yibo blurts out, “How the fuck do we ever even finish a fight when we can’t have a single conversation without eight different detours into the most pointless shit ever.” 

He muses on that.   “True.”  he admits, smiling and sitting back once more against the pillow.  A moment later, he whispers, “Fuck, I miss you, baby.” And then in an even huskier voice, “I want you to come here and fuck me on this bed.”

There’s nothing from Yibo’s end in response.  He wonders if the call got disconnected and looks down at the screen and sees a video call coming through.

He smiles as he accepts it.

His smile disappears when he sees Yibo’s face.  It’s so close to the screen, it’s mostly just his eyes.  Before he thinks of it, he presses a kiss to the screen. 

When he pulls back, he hears Yibo growl.  “Fuck, let me see you touch yourself.” 

He closes his eyes as that command travels down in a shiver through his spine, straight to his dick.  He palms himself over his pajama pants, sliding down onto the bed.

Yibo is explicit in his ear, telling him what to do, how hard, how soft, for how long, and the only reward Yibo needs is to hear him, to hear his breath catch, turn into little pants, and then into a bit of whining and moaning as he imagines Yibo jacking himself off firm and hard, the index finger and thumb making a little ring around the tip, sliding just halfway down and then up again, gaining speed as his voice becomes hoarse with need.

“Baby, show me your mouth.  Your mouth.”  he hears the last whisper and is slightly mindless now as his own hands move up and down his dick, pulling tight and long.  He does manage to bring his phone screen up to just his mouth.  They are parted and gasping in earnest now as he feels himself edging close to the precipice.

“Fuck, I want those lips wrapped around my cock.”  Yibo says.  That voice and that image sends him over the edge and he turns to bite into his pillow as he feels the aftershocks rack his body.

A moment later, Yibo is there too, although he just growls a “fuuuuck” as he comes.

Later on, when they finally catch their breath, his wifi decides to act up, freezing Yibo’s picture on screen.  They take a bathroom break and shift back to just voice call. 

And he finally tells Yibo, “New Zealand.” 

“Yea?”

“Hm.”  he nods. 

“Good choice.”  Yibo seems pleased.

“Was that your pick too?” he asks.

“I don’t care where we get married, really.  But I think that place is perfect for a mini honeymoon.  You’ll love it.”

He had looked at the links that Yibo had sent, and there indeed were some hauntingly beautiful places in New Zealand.

“I’ll book the tickets and the hotel then.”  Yibo says.  “My leave request has been approved for five days.  I know it’s short…”

“It’s perfect.” he cuts Yibo off.  The last thing he wants Yibo to worry about is about things that Yibo has no control over.

“I ordered the rings.”  he says now.

“Oh yea?”  Yibo asks. 

“Hm.  And a chain for you too.”

“Why?”

“What, you think you’re just going to walk around with a ring on your ring finger and people won’t notice?” 

“Oh, and they’re not going to notice just because it’s on a chain around my neck?” Yibo asks.

“It’s easier to hide.”

“Then I’ll get a chain for you too.”

“What’s the need?  Most of the time I’m away from everyone we know.  I can actually wear the ring.”

“And when you go home?” 

“Hm… I will just leave it here then.”

“Fuck no.  You’re never taking it off.  I’m getting you a chain.”

That makes him smile.  “Fine.”  he says.

There’s a moment’s pause before Yibo asks, “Were you jealous before?” 

“When?”

“I knew you were just pretending!  You’re never jealous!”

“You want me to be jealous?”  he asks, smiling again.

“Yea, occasionally.” Yibo answers and he can imagine the pout on Yibo’s lips.

“Of course, I’m jealous.”

“You are?”  Yibo sounds surprised.

“All those people get you all the time when I’m the one who needs you the most.”  He pauses after he delivers that line, imagining Yibo grinning.  Then he asks, “Was that adequately cheesy?” 

“It’ll do.”  Yibo answers.  “For now.  I expect much better cheese after we tie the knot.”

“Much better? How much better?”

“I’m fucking with the cheese, that’s that queso.”  Yibo sings in answer.

He knows enough NCT songs and lyrics by now to know the reference and thinks it prudent to offer the correction, “I believe it’s, “I’m walking with the cheese.”

“Yea, because Fucking is not allowed on TV.”   Yibo says with practiced ease.

“I’m already stretching my cheesy limits to the max on the daily.”

That gets him a tsk tsk from Yibo and, “Just imagine all the things Lan Wangji wanted to tell Wei Wuxian and let it rip.”

“Please.  Lan Wangji wanted to do Wei Wuxian.  And I have written oodles of pages on that.”

“Where?”   Yibo asks, alarmed.  “Wait, I read the whole thing.  I didn’t see any explicit stuff.”

“Yea, that’s for my private collection, not for public consumption.   Not to mention, I’ll be carted off to jail for moral delinquency if that shit gets out.”

“Moral delinquency??  Exactly what are in those pages?  And who was the muse for all that action?  Mr. Perfect Yizhou?” 

“Yizhou?”  he laughs.   Then quiets down and says, “I don’t mean that as an insult to Yizhou, he is a fine man, but damn Yibo, it doesn’t even occur to you that it’s you?”

“Me?”  Yibo asks.  “Didn’t we only bone for like three weeks before I lost half my brain?”

“Just for the record, your humor is both vulgar and morbid.”

“Bullshit.”  Yibo cuts in.

“But yes, we only boned for three weeks, what does that have to do with anything?”

“Hold up, you have written pornographic literature?  You?  You?  the innocent…”

“Shut up.” he cuts in now.

Yibo’s voice is all that is glee as he continues, “pure little angel who can do no wrong in both of our mothers’ eyes, that you, Xiao Zhan, has written…”

“Shut up!”

“Pornographic literature about sexy times with little ol’ me?  Really?” 

“I’m hanging up.”

“I want to read it next time I’m there.”  Yibo says, laughing.

“Fuck no.  Not after all that judgment.”

“I will break into your laptop.”

“How?  You don’t know my password.”

“Oh please. You think you’re so original with that shit.  Isn’t it my birthday?” 

“Hell no.”  he answers.

“Really?  It’s not?”  Yibo asks, genuinely surprised.

“You have some nerve to assume my password is your birthday.”

That just gets Yibo laughing.  “I do, don’t I?”

“Uh huh.”  

His alarm goes off then, alerting them both that it’s the latest that Yibo is allowed to stay on the phone.  He makes Yibo get off with a hurriedly whispered Love You and Good Night.

And then opens his laptop to make sure he had saved what he had been working on, typing in WyBo8o5IPP7 when it prompts for his password.

                                                                        xxxxx

Chapter Text

T minus 1 week:

“A’ Zhan, can you grab that blue bowl in the fridge?” his mother calls out from the dining room. He is standing by the sink in the kitchen reading through the last series of texts between him and Yibo.

“They’re going to pull Taeyong from the next tour. He’s injured his back again. So, now we have to reconfigure every single routine he is in to make up for the gap.” Yibo had written earlier that day.

“Wow, is he okay?”

“He’s supposed to be resting. But he’s still here, watching the rest of them practice every day. Poor guy. It’s clear he’s in pain, but he also feels so bad that this is throwing a wrench into everything.”

“I guess this is the benefit of having 22 other members.” he had texted back, if only to put a positive spin on the situation.

“It’s hard to replace Taeyong.” had been Yibo’s reply.

Indeed. It wasn’t just about being the center. If that was all, it could be easily fixed. There were so many other talented centers in NCT. But Taeyong was also the leader. The other members looked to him for… a lot of things. Especially during a tour. That’s the sort of thing that couldn’t be replicated easily. Which is likely why Taeyong was in the studio with them all the time, reassuring them that this would be easy enough to manage.

“He wants to go on the tour even if he’s not going to perform, just to be there for support.” Yibo had added in another text.

The next tour is not for another four weeks. But it’s also only two weeks after Yibo gets back from New Zealand.

“Is that wise? Wouldn’t it be better to rest?” he had asked.

“Yes, that’s what SM thinks so too. He is needed for too many other projects to not recover properly. So, they’ve told him he can’t go.”

He had waited a minute before writing the next text, holding his breath the whole time.

“If this is not a good time for you to take a vacation, we can always reschedule. It’s just the two of us anyways.”

Yibo’s reply had taken longer than fifteen minutes. Which had been enough time to convince him that maybe Yibo had been wondering how to approach the topic with him in the first place.

Although when the reply had finally arrived, what it had said was, “Sorry, Doyoung finally made Taeyong go home. He wouldn’t go until the other choreographer and I reassured him that this is already looking good.”

And the next one, “And Hell No. Come Hell or High Water, we are getting married next week. If you think about crying off for any reason, I swear I will not love you in our next three lives.”

That had made him laugh.

“You make the most asinine threats.” he had written back.

“Do you dare risk it?” Yibo had asked in return.

“Oh, come on, you won’t even be able to help it. If I am anywhere within a ten-mile radius around you, you’ll somehow find me.”

And in the next text, “And love me too (of course).”

“Ohhhh… look how sure we are of ourselves already without even getting a ring on the finger.”

“Please, what does a ring have to do with it? Marriage really has little to do with love.”

“Then why’re we getting married?”

“Okay, maybe it has like 10% to do with love.” he had relented.

“Then why are we getting married?” Yibo had asked again.

He hadn’t been able to tell what mood Yibo was in, whether what he had said had pissed him off or not.

“Is love the only thing people need between them?” he had written back.

“What can marriage offer that love can’t?” had been Yibo’s reply.

His first inclination had been to write back, “This was your idea in the first place.” But that would have been another one of those… what had Yibo said before, dishonest, defensive, douchebaggish things to do.

And so, he had written back honestly about why he had agreed, reminding Yibo of all the things that he had said in the first place. And adding some of his own. “If anything were to happen to you again, I want to claim you as your husband. If I need to go on life support for some reason, I want you to decide what should happen to me. If you need an organ, I want them to ask me first. And if you need to be nursed back to health, it should be my right to do so.”

He had sent that off before starting to type again, but before he had finished, Yibo’s reply had come back with, “Damn, I really put the fear of death and illness into you!”

He had smiled at that as he had typed in the second part, “I want to be your home. I want you to be mine too. And yes, marriage is not necessary for that, but it seems like the best way to go about it.”

Yibo’s reply after that had been, “I just wanted to call you husband.”

He had smiled reading that, picturing Yibo’s smug and satisfied grin reading everything else he had written.

“Damn, New Zealand is a long way to travel to just do that.” he had texted.

“Isn’t it though?” And then a moment later, “I’m going to keep you in bed the whole time, FYI.”

“Promises. Promises. I bet you, you’ll sleep for the first ten hours after we get to the bed and breakfast, then wake up just long enough to say “I do” and then sleep for the next 36 and then we’ll be on the flight back.”

“I have been back to my apartment for only three hours each night for the last four days, so you might not be completely off-base there. But you have my full permission to suck my dick even if I’m sleeping. And if I get hard enough, you can put it inside and do your thing. I’m sure it’ll make my dreams rapturous.”

“I’m not into necrophilia.”

“Hey hey… don’t be judgmental. Dead people can’t get it up. I think you mean somnophilia.”

“I would rather you be awake and… eat me like a cookie.” He had internally cringed when he had hit send on that one, but Yibo loved shit like that.

Yibo’s response had been a GIF of someone devouring a cake with an odious amount of icing.

“That’s a lot of icing.” he had written back.

“Yup ;)” had been Yibo’s answer.

“Zhan Zhan…” he hears his mother call again and clicks out of the texts, putting his phone away. “Be right there.”

That evening, it’s a veritable feast at his house. Yibo’s parents are there, as are several other couples who are friends with both of their parents. All his friends are there too. Yibo’s absence is keenly felt, although his parents and Yibo’s parents stay clear of that topic altogether. Which, it takes him some time to recognize is for his benefit. And he is struck by how much of a bubble he and Yibo live in when they’re together, the fact that their parents still think that they are no longer in contact with each other, and as if sensing that, all his friends follow suit as well, not bringing up Yibo during dinner when everyone’s around.

Otherwise, the mood is jolly and the conversation lively, Ziyi, Ji Li, and Yubin keeping up a steady stream of it, and the hours passing quickly. Long after dinner is over and just before they leave, Xuan Lu corners him by the bathroom and asks him in a whisper if everything’s okay between him and Yibo. He nods and is prevented from having to elaborate further when someone else comes to use the bathroom.

By 11 that night, it’s only Yibo’s parents left and when he’s clearing the table and putting away the leftovers, Mrs. Wang pulls him towards her by the arm. She’s been drinking and her gaze is sweet and adoring as she looks him up and down. “You are practically glowing, I’ve been noticing all night. Have you fallen in love with some girl in the Clouds?”

He flushes at her question and looks away, pretending to grab the plates in front of her as he answers, “Of course not.”

He doesn’t look at his mother, because she would see through him in a second.

“What do you mean, of course not? A’ Zhan, don’t you know you’re quite handsome? I imagine there are girls tripping over themselves to date you.”

“Hardly.” he answers, although he smiles too.

“Well, you are a shy one. Not like my Yibo. That boy knows he’s good looking and makes sure the entire Universe knows it too.”

He notices his mother looking their way from the corner of his eyes. She is at the sink putting her gloves on to start on the dishes.

He pretends not to notice.

Clearly, the hour, the alcohol, and the familiarity has made Mrs. Wang forget that Yibo is a silently agreed upon forbidden topic.

“How’s he doing?” he hears his mother ask and tries to not look over in surprise. And then it occurs to him that maybe this is her way of letting him hear something about Yibo, in the event that she thinks he’s been completely cut off.

“He’s busy. I never thought that boy could be such a hard-worker. He’s at the company almost all the time. I don’t even think he has any time off for another six months. Unless they bring him back here for something to do with WayV. We go every couple of months to make sure he’s at least eating properly. Zuzu, this boy lives off of Ramen. I’m afraid at this rate, his blood pressure is going to go through the roof from all that sodium. Couldn’t you teach him anything, A’Zhan?” she remarks casually, but then finally seems to realize what she is saying because she looks up at him sheepishly.

He smiles at her to smooth things over, but before he can walk away, she pulls him in by his wrist again.

“He misses you, you know?” She says, her eyes turning a bit sad.

He grabs her hand in his and turns quickly to look at him mom and sees that she has paused, her hands mid-scrub on one bowl.

He doesn’t want to encourage this conversation and have poor Mrs. Wang say something that would be misinterpreted by his mother. Best friends though they were, when it came to their children, he imagined that all bets were off.

“It’s good that he’s busy and doing well.” he says, carefully, squeezing Mrs. Wang’s hand gently.

She nods. “I feel like he grew up so quickly in the last nine months. It’s like he went there as my boy and now when I see him, he’s like a… man. It’s hard to believe.”

She gazes off in reminiscence for a moment before she looks back at him. “Sometimes I miss how bratty he used to be, you know. Even though it used to drive me nuts and we used to fight a ton, nowadays, he doesn’t ever argue with me.”

He squeezes her hand again. “He doesn’t see you enough to argue with you. Give him some time once he comes back. He’ll be back at it again.”

She smiles at that, although it’s a little wistful, and says, “I don’t know if he’ll come back.”

His eyes widen at that assumption, but before he can say anything, it’s his mother who asks, “Why do you say that?”

Mrs. Wang is quiet.

He tries to say something to fill the silence, but then Mrs. Wang answers, “A’Zhan’s not here anymore.”

“Oh, Mrs. Wang…” he says, moving in to pull her into a hug.

She hugs him back tightly and he kisses the top of her hair as he asks, “What does that matter? You both are here. All his friends are here. Of course, he’ll come back. It’s his home.”

Mrs. Wang just sighs in answer, letting him hold her just like that.

When he looks at his mother again, she returns his gaze for a moment before turning back to the sink.

xxxxxxxxx

Chapter Text

He flies direct from Beijing to New Zealand and lands a whopping 13 hours later at the Auckland International Airport, at 1 in the morning.  Yibo’s flight is from Seoul to Sydney, with a layover of about 4 hours in Sydney before the flight from there to Auckland.  From there, it’s still another two-hour flight to Queenstown, where they had booked a bed and breakfast for five days and booked a wedding package with one of the local companies that specialized in intimate weddings.  It had been a miracle to discover something called the ‘elopement package’ that offered wedding planning, photography, pickup/drop off to the Moke Lake – a lake surrounded by the most incredible mountain range, at least from the pictures and videos that he had seen on the internet – a marriage celebrant to officiate the wedding, two witnesses (legally required and something they would definitely need as they had no one else with them), marriage license application support, and even a bottle of bubblies.  When he had reviewed all the information on their website, it had made him feel an odd sort of comfort, a sort of kinship, with so many others like him and Yibo who literally put in hours and oceans and time zones to get to an oasis that made them feel like this would be a real thing, what they were about to do.   

When he gets to the bed and breakfast in Queenstown finally, it’s almost six in the morning local time.  Between the amount of traveling and time change and exhaustion, his circadian rhythm is way off.  Yibo won’t get in for at least another two hours and he thinks he should get some sleep before then so that he is more alert later on.  The wedding ceremony is not until the next day anyways, so there is still some time to properly rest.

He is too tired for even his usual antsy-ness to rear its ugly head and he falls asleep within minutes after his head hits the pillow, although he is barely rested when he wakes up to his alarm 90 minutes later.  He busies himself with unpacking for the next half hour or so before Yibo gets in. 

Except Yibo doesn’t. 

He allows that there may be holdups at the airport and waiting for a cab and all that, but when an hour goes by and Yibo still doesn’t arrive, the restlessness that he had managed to keep at bay until then tumbles out full force. 

Before he gets into the weeds though, thinking up all the most drastic and tragic things that could have come to pass, common sense fortunately intervenes and he thinks of actually connecting to the wifi on his phone to see if Yibo had sent him a message.

When he is finally connected, he sees that Yibo had indeed sent him messages, several of them, in fact.

The first one said, Flight delayed by 2 hours.

And then another one.  Flight delayed again.  Another two hours. 

He tries to breathe through the clawing in his belly.  A delay of four hours means Yibo will miss the connecting from Sydney to Auckland and then from Auckland to Queenstown too. 

He looks down to read the rest of the texts from Yibo.

 I’m okay, baby.  Don’t worry.  We’re getting married even if we have to do it only at the city hall.  None of the other stuff matters.  Right?  I’m okay.  I’ll be with you soon.

And then…

I know you can’t cook there as you usually do when you get anxious.  Write a one-shot.  About Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian.  Maybe something far off in the future, you know?  Maybe in some alternate reality.  Maybe Lan Wangji is… locked up in a tower and Wei Wuxian has to go rescue him, Rapunzel style.  Lord knows they both have enough hair to make that work.

Even with the pins and needles in his stomach, that makes him laugh.

The last text from Yibo is a total of five hours after Yibo’s initial flight was supposed to take off. 

Finally boarding! Whew. I’ll see you in about 20 hours. Check your email.

He puts his phone down and turns his laptop on to log in to his email.

And sure enough, there’s an email from Yibo sent some twelve hours ago.

Hey,

My flight’s delayed.  As you know by now. 

When I read that on the flight info board, the first thing that occurred to me was how anxious you would be when I don’t turn up. Waiting for me and not knowing where I am.  Until my texts and emails find you, that is.  And it fills me with this sort of dread, you know.  Imagining you getting anxious is what makes me anxious.  And it makes me feel what you feel.  What you feel all those times when someone yanks you out of your world, your comfort zone, your home, everything you know…

Which is probably what I have done to you.  Making demands on your affections in the way that I did.  I know I can be relentless when I want something.  And whether it’s before I lost my memories or after, that is something that has not changed.  How relentless I can be.  And I can’t really imagine how that must be for you to have all my relentlessness focused on just you.  I must come across as this sort of bulldozer that razes you over, sometimes in affection, sometimes in lust, sometimes in angst, and sometimes in just sheer crazy.  It’s a lot, isn’t it?  Loving me?   Being loved by me?  Unsettling?  Like right now.  I wish I was the one waiting for you.  I wish it was your flight that had been delayed.  And I was the one waiting in that unfamiliar town, in an unfamiliar country.  Relying on a language you’re not comfortable with. 

I don’t know why you always end up waiting for me rather than the other way around.  Do we have some debt owed from a past life? 

Maybe I was the Lan Wangji to your Wei Wuxian in a past life, waiting for you some sixteen years, not knowing if you will ever come back?  Maybe you didn’t create Chen Qing Ling as much as remember it?  It’s not so crazy, if you really think about it.  It must be why you end up waiting for me so much.  I must have been the one who waited for you for ages before.

I love you so much.  You know that, right?  I think you do.  It’s not like I hide it.  But sometimes I think it’s good to make sure you don’t forget.  When you get into your head and start running in your nervous loops, I think it’s good to remind you that there’s always me here, wherever I may happen to be in the world, all the parts of me that matter are still with you.  You’re my home.  You’re my everything, really.

I can’t wait to marry you.  And know, even if it will be in secret for some time yet, that you are really mine.  And I am yours.  In front of God and Man and all that jazz.

So baby, the whole point of this email is…

Write a smutty story for me while you’re there.  While you wait.  Knowing that I love you more than I can contain in my body.  And I can’t wait to be with you.  hug you.  sleep with you.  breathe in your smell.  kiss your lips.  suck on your tongue.  and your dick.  hehe… you know I can’t resist.  I’m just dirty like that.  Don’t you love that part of me too?  You love all of me, don’t you?  Even the parts you hate, you love.  I’m not just saying that.  I’m saying it because I feel it.  All the time.  How much you love me.  All those months when we didn’t have any contact with each other, even then, I could feel how much you loved me.  It kept me going.  Even if I was pulling my hair out, missing you and everything else I’ve known like a phantom limb.  Even through all that, I knew wherever you were, you still loved me.  And one day you would come back to me again.

And you did.  That day in that club.  When you caught me kissing someone else.  And I saw your face when I turned around.  The hurt that was on your face.  That hurt had made me so happy.  Because it had made me realize that all those thoughts of mine were not just fantasy.  It was not all in vain.  You really did love me.  Maybe even as much as I loved you.

I want you to tell me you love me all the time.   All of our life.  I am needy like that.  I am always needy for you.  Sometimes I want to sink into you and disappear.  and I know those sorts of feelings make you feel afraid.  Because it’s too much.  So, let me feel them for you.  You can love me in moderation.  Maybe even a little less than I love you, I don’t mind.  As long as you’re happy. 

I don’t even know what I’m writing anymore.  But it’s making me anxious to think that you’re anxious.  And I don’t know how to deal with it.  It’s the only thing that makes me anxious in life.  You.  You.  and only You.

So, I’m still writing because if I don’t write, I feel like I’ll suffocate from this feeling.

So baby, I’ll be there soon. 

Okay, they just announced that we’ll be boarding soon.

I love you.

to be continued…

Yours,

Yibo.

Chapter Text

When he finally gets to the bed and breakfast, a quaint little house with an incredible view of the lake and mountains surrounding it, it’s close to 8 at night and he can feel the tension coiling in the pit of his belly.  It’s been there for the past 24 hours, but now so close, it sharpens its blade, digging in deeper. 

The owner is a sweet woman who says that she has been expecting him, that his fiancé is in the room overlooking the lake and, no, he has hardly come out of the room all day, and that she had simply assumed that he’s been sleeping given the time difference and long flights to get here.  He nods and asks about places to order in from nearby and she offers to bring a few menus to their room.  She will slip them in under their door and not disturb them, she adds with a smile.  He smiles back and follows her as she leads him to the corner room in the house. 

Once she leaves, he knocks on the door softly.  When there is no answer, he tries the knob and finds it open.

He drags his suitcase in and closes and locks the door before walking down the hallway into the larger space inside with the queen-sized bed.  The wall overlooking the lake is all glass, he knows from pictures, although the full-length curtains are pulled completely closed and he knows that Xiao Zhan has likely not opened them the whole day.  He hears the shower running and walks to the bathroom, stripping out of his wrinkled clothes that had absorbed so much his agitation and distress over the past so many hours.  

The shower is on full blast when he enters the bathroom, so much so that it’s fogging up the glass doors and he doubts if Xiao Zhan can even hear him when he closes the door gently behind him.

He pulls off his boxer briefs, the only piece of clothing left now, before opening the door of the shower stall.

And is not prepared to see Xiao Zhan standing directly under the spray, both hands covering his face, his shoulders trembling every few seconds.

He feels that blade in the pit of his belly turn and twist in further.

He moves in and grabs Xiao Zhan around the waist, its circumference feeling even smaller now in his hold. 

He feels Xiao Zhan’s instant jolt of surprise at his touch and then he is turning around, those big eyes swollen and seemingly diaphanous. 

He sees those lips mouth, “Oh, Thank you God!” before he feels those arms come around him.  He feels like his heart will literally burst open when he hugs him back, his hold so tight that he fears he may break those bones in half.

Xiao Zhan doesn’t seem to mind as he melts into the embrace and he hears the whispers, “You’re safe…  Of course, you’re safe.  God wouldn’t try to kill me like that twice.  I’m sure he knows I won’t survive a second time…”

He swallows hard as he tightens his arms around that waist and his eyes fill, not even at the words, but at the plaintive tone in which they are uttered.

“I’m okay.”  he whispers back.  “And if some shit like that happens again, I’m not going anywhere without taking you with me.”

“Bullshit, that’s what you said the last time too… And you definitely left me behind.”  Xiao Zhan says as he drops his face against his shoulder.  Yibo doesn’t have an answer to that.  And then he can’t speak at all as he feels Xiao Zhan’s tears, warm and silent against his shoulder. 

He holds Xiao Zhan like that for ages, knowing those tears are not just from today, but from back then too, when he had not remembered enough to receive them like this… so openly…

And so he absorbs it now, the love that is coated on all sides with grief and fear, and he prays to the Gods to put any and all fear from here on until the end of their lives on his shoulders.  And to never have his better half suffer through it again.

When Xiao Zhan pulls back from the embrace finally, he seems embarrassed and looks away. 

He turns that face back to him by the chin, but then gets distracted by those lips and the little mole at the corner.  Ever since tasting them, he is perpetually distracted by Xiao Zhan’s lips. 

He kisses that little black dot without thinking and sees those eyes open, in surprise.

Although in the next moment, that surprise turns into need.  Not even lust, just pure need.

It clouds his eyes with lust and he grabs him closer, going back in to suck on that full lower lip.

There is a moan in response, which gets his cock hard as it always does, and he backs Xiao Zhan against the wall, pressing in with all his body, everywhere he can touch.

Before he says anything more, he hears the husky whisper in his ears, “fuck me, baby.  fuck me so hard that I forget the last 10 hours.”

His head is immediately flooded with images from that dream of his, the one that Xiao Zhan had said had not happened, the one where he fucks into him in the shower, his fingers gripping those hips so hard that it left marks. 

He drops down onto his knees now and takes Xiao Zhan’s hard length into his mouth, sucking it in like those candies of Ziyi’s that he used to poach.  He swore though that Xiao Zhan’s dick tasted sweeter than those candies.  It tasted sweeter than anything else he’s tasted, really.  And he couldn’t get enough. 

After some kitty licks and then some deep pulls, knowing the combination worked Xiao Zhan into a frenzy, he looks up to watch...  and is treated to the picture that he wants… one that he catalogues away to recall when he is alone again and needs to jerk off…   Xiao Zhan’s shoulder blades are against the wall as his hips thrust lightly into his mouth, those fingers cupping the back of his head.  Xiao Zhan’s eyes are closed, his lips parted in that sultry way of his, exhaling in sexy little pants that he knew would soon turn into throaty moans, and then begging at the end to come inside him, not caring how needy he sounds… That would be enough to make him orgasm… to know Xiao Zhan wanted him that much…

“Fuck, fuck, Yibo, I’m… I’m…” he hears now and looks up to see Xiao Zhan’s belly contract and tighten up, his neck muscles corded and stretched, that lower lip pulled in and bitten down, and prepares just in time to feel him come in his mouth.  He closes his eyes in relief as he swallows, feeling as if he has absorbed all of the hours that had come before.

Before he can get back up, Xiao Zhan turns off the shower and sinks down onto his knees next to him, throwing his arms around him again, whispering, “Fuck, I love you so much, Yibo…”

He thinks then that maybe they are destined to suffer random maladies here and there just because this love seems so blessed. Great rewards come with great costs… if not that, then something like that.   He just wishes that he could shoulder the costs instead of Xiao Zhan. 

After a moment in the embrace, he turns his head into Xiao Zhan’s neck and whispers, “I’m so fucking horny to be inside you.  Can I?”

Xiao Zhan pulls back at that, “If you hadn’t made me so anxious all day, I would have put a plug in earlier.”

He pulls them both back up and opens the shower stall door.

There is a towel hanging on a rack outside and Xiao Zhan grabs it to put it over his head and rub.

When he closes his eyes, he is flooded with images from another time, and the words he had uttered then, Loving you has always been easy.

It’s true.  Xiao Zhan is the easiest person to love.  He couldn’t imagine anyone getting to know Xiao Zhan without falling in love with him, regardless of gender or preference in sex.  Their friends all loved Xiao Zhan to pieces.  He had even considered on occasion that Ji Li’s gaze had been particularly tender when they had fallen on Xiao Zhan.  It hadn’t mattered though.  Xiao Zhan had never, at least in his memories, ever looked at anyone else like he looked at him. 

He had loved acting the brat because it had only made Xiao Zhan’s eyes shine with even more fondness.  And he had been a sucker for that all his life.  The more he got, the more he wanted.  He wanted all of it, really. 

He had not anticipated that that love would also have this edge to it, this sort of blade on the other side, that could hurt this much…

As much love as he wanted, and as much happiness as he had gotten in the past when he had seen the pain on Xiao Zhan’s face when he had withheld his affection, he had not known the true damage a broken heart could create…

And as he had sat on that delayed plane for hours, wondering what state Xiao Zhan would be in, he had thought that it wouldn’t be so bad to be loved a little less…  

They are by the bed now and Xiao Zhan falls back on it, pulling him on top, sighing in contentment when his full weight presses him into the mattress.

“You like that?”  he asks.

“Mmm… Press down on me until I can hardly breathe…” Xiao Zhan murmurs, looking up at him now.  There’s still need there, but teasing too, but none of the desperation from before, and he smiles back. 

“Tell me how much you want me…” he says, belying everything he had told himself in his head just moments before.

He is a contradiction this way.  One moment he can’t take it if he thinks Xiao Zhan’s in pain and he thinks it’s okay to be loved a little less, but in the next, when that pain recedes, he wants it all, and then even more…

“I want you as much as you want me…”  Xiao Zhan answers without batting an eye.

He narrows his eyes.

Xiao Zhan narrows them back.

“Touche.”  he says.

“There’s no other way to win.  Only how much you want me would even come close…”

That makes him laugh and drop his head against Xiao Zhan’s, a bit harder than necessary, just enough for Xiao Zhan to rub at that spot and then the spot on his head too.

“Why is love so fucking corny?”  he asks.

“It’s all your doing.  I don’t even write this level of saccharine in my worst novels.  I mean, if we were a movie, the only reviews we would get would be gagging emojies.”

“But also potentially a cult following.”  he feels the need to point out.

“Maybe in your dreams.” 

“All spectacularly bad things have a cult following, don’t you know?” he asks.

“Is that what we are?  Spectacularly bad?”  Xiao Zhan asks, pulling the covers over the both of them, allowing him to snuggle in even more, Xiao Zhan’s body starting to warm up under him. 

He drops his nose against Xiao Zhan’s collar bone and rubs it back and forth. 

Xiao Zhan tilts his neck back to give him more access, and he runs his lips up its length, pausing to suck a hickey into one side.    

Xiao Zhan’s hands are on his back, soothingly rubbing down to the curve of his ass.

It reminds him that he is still hard and he whispers by Xiao Zhan’s ear, “I want to try rimming.” 

When he raises his head, Xiao Zhan’s eyes are closed, although a moment later, they open, cloudy and unfocused.

It makes him so hard that he is grinding against him in the next moment, feeling both his heart and cock throb.

“Tell me, tell me again, how much you want me.”  he whispers, urgently now.

“All the time.  so much.  just like this.  with you pressing me down like this, making me go insane.  I want to see this in your eyes too… how much you want me like this… so needy and crazy for you.  it makes me feel all kinds of way inside.  it’s going to be even worse after this week.  when I know you’re my husband.  and when I want you and I can’t have you, I’m going to go crazy…”  Xiao Zhan reaches up for him at that last word and he is quick on the attack, not knowing if it’s okay to feel this much.

They manage to find the lube before he is too gone in the head, and he thinks he needs to take up meditation when he finally starts to push inside, everything feeling tighter than it’s ever felt before.

At some point, he pulls out and shakes his head.   “No no… you’re too tight.  let’s do this tomorrow.”

Xiao Zhan doesn’t resist, but pulls him in closer, “All my muscles have been too wound up all day.”

“I know…” he whispers, raising Xiao Zhan’s hand to his mouth to press a kiss into his palm.

A moment later, he turns back to look at Xiao Zhan, lifting one eyebrow up and down a few times.

Xiao Zhan tilts his head, lifting an eyebrow of his own.

“That makes this the perfect night for rimming then… just like I said…”

He sees a flush rise high on Xiao Zhan’s cheeks, and it’s enough to make him grind his teeth together as he growls, “I swear I want to eat you up.  Aargh…”

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Chapter Text

Hello, I don’t know how many of you are still following this story. I assume at least some of you followed me while I furiously wrote (as if besieged by a BJYX demon) A Long Time Ago... for the whole month of January. Now that that’s over, I can return to this story and wrap it up. I have no idea how many chapters are remaining, but want to know how many of you are still following this one. - Devi

Chapter Text

He doesn’t realize that he expects nothing to change until it does.  And even then, it takes him sometime to realize it.  And only because he finds himself waking up in the middle of the night to reach for his glasses and laptop, plugging in his airpods and listening to the playlist that he used to listen to when he had been actively writing Chen Qing Ling, lingering and writing and dreaming and writing, sometimes until the wee hours of the morning.  He has no real aim when he starts, just scenes here and there that he wants to capture in words before it slips away like wisps of his dreams.  But before he knows it, he has 89 pages of… he doesn’t even know what to call it…

Whereas he had written a truly absurd amount of sex during those initial days when he and Yibo had gotten together, now his Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian are… he pulls off his glasses and rubs his bleary eyes, sighing… they are now WangXian.  And he can almost see a diaphanous thread connecting them at all times, and it grows in strength each night as he writes. 

Interestingly, he no longer sees either Lan Wangji or Wei Wuxian as bearing any striking similarity to either Yibo or himself, but WangXian… WangXian is a different matter.  Their two-as-one is in essence the same as his own two-as-one.

He didn’t think he could miss Yibo any more than he already had before, but something about having so explicitly verbalized a commitment to each other, and they had gone with the most overused version of it,

"I, Xiao Zhan, take thee, Wang Yibo to be my wedded husband, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death do us part, according to God's holy ordinance; and thereto I pledge thee my faith."

Something about those words that many others in this day and age thought a bit dated, represented to him something ancient and sacred that had not been afforded as a choice to so many like him.   He had still been surprised that he had wanted that.  Yibo had left it up to him and was only too happy to have the vows already written for him, smirking when he said, “I was just going to read my email, but this is so much better.  Besides, I think the Justice of the Peace can do without hearing about how much I want to suck your dick.”

Although later that evening, after the ceremony had been over and photos taken from every possible angle in front of that lake, and after the helicopter ride back, an intimate dinner at some cozy place their host had recommended, and having indulged in maybe a bit too much wine, when they had finally made it back to their room, they had stripped off their clothes and stood under the shower as Yibo held him around the waist, kissing the tips of his fingers as he fucked into him slowly while he had stroked himself in rhythm with their movement. 

Later, they had crawled into bed and had lain awake for a long while talking, about everything and anything and nothing in particular, and then he had made Yibo read his email out loud.  Yibo had smirked before he started, although even the first line of it seemed to make him remember and then Yibo’s reading had been anything but teasing.  Halfway through, Yibo had paused, almost as if remembering what he had felt when writing, and Xiao Zhan had pulled the phone away from his hand and pulled him close, whispering, “I want to make love again.”

And that was the first time, he realizes now in hindsight, that it had felt different.  The want and the need were there the same as before, but it had still felt different.  Yibo had held his gaze without looking away for an entire minute before he came, his eyes intense and possessive. 

“I love you…” he had whispered at the end, pulling Yibo down to him and Yibo had growled into his neck, licking the sheen of perspiration there and grabbing him around his waist to hold him tightly. 

They had stayed in bed for half the next day and had gone back to the mountains again, walking hand in hand for a long while.  They had found shade under a tree in the late afternoon and he had been lulled into a nap from Yibo stroking his hair absently. 

Another dinner had followed and then more love making, languorous and unhurried and lasting what seemed like hours, unwinding all his muscles until he thought he would simply melt into the downy comforter puffed around them like clouds.

As memorable as the sex was, what he remembered even more now was how often they walked everywhere they explored their whole time there, sticking next to each other, their bodies either touching or leaning into each other, sometimes without even knowing.  No one stared or seemed to care and it was a different sort of liberation to love like that too… to belong to each other so openly.

On the plane ride back, the first leg of their flights was together, an 8-hour trip, although he had hardly felt its length, sleeping most of it on Yibo’s shoulder.  He had woken up halfway through and had asked Yibo to sleep on his, but Yibo had shaken his head and had said, “I feel better watching you sleep.”

“Why?  You think I’m that anxious?”  he had asked, teasingly.

Yibo had threaded their fingers together and had kissed the back of his hand then.  “I just like seeing you relaxed.”

He had leaned over and kissed Yibo, but then quickly looked around to see if anyone was looking.  The seat to his right was empty and most of the other passengers were sleeping, but still, he hadn’t been able to help it.  Yibo had done the same, following his gaze around and had then pulled him back in for a deeper kiss before whispering, “Now sleep.  Let me be there for you for a change.”

“You’re always there for me.”  he had answered, frowning.

“Not as often as the reverse.”

“Not true.”  He had been unwilling to allow the point to stick.

Yibo had looked like he would refute again, but instead he had just held his gaze, his expression turning thoughtful.  “It’s going to be so much harder to stay away from you now.”

He had kissed Yibo again, smiling, before putting his head back on his shoulder and going back to sleep. 

It hadn’t been until they separated at the airport to catch different flights back to their different destinations, and in the long hours alone on the plane afterwards, and then on the train and the bus back to his flat, and to the emptiness of his bed, that he realized what Yibo meant. 

It had become so much harder. 

The plain gold band on his finger occasionally seemed to mock him for his weakness, that somehow, he had bought so fully into this notion of wedded bliss and etc. without really realizing it.  And now was suffering for it because he really did miss his husband so fucking much. 

Yibo is far busier than him and doesn’t live his sort of solitary existence to miss him quite as much in return, especially with the amped up preparation for NCT’s tour and then the actual tour itself that lasts for almost a full week.  The texts and phone calls are pretty much the same frequency as before, maybe even a bit less, but something about the things that Yibo writes now, they feel different, and it makes him miss him like a vital organ. 

Two nights after NCT returns from their tour, an hour after he is already in bed, he gets a text that just says, “Baby, open the door.”

He leaps off the bed and runs to the hallway and when he opens the door, Yibo rushes in, dropping his bag on the floor.   The door barely closes behind him before they are on each other, mouth and tongue and teeth and hands all competing for dominance.  The buttons of his pajama top pop off before it’s dragged off his shoulder and down his arms and as soon as his hands are free, he pulls Yibo in by his belt, unbuckling and then unzipping his jeans.  It’s too snug to fall off with just that, and in impatience, he drags Yibo’s cock out with his hand.  Yibo groans at the touch, his head falling into his crook of his neck.  A moment later, he feels Yibo’s hand inside his pajamas, palming his erection.  He bites down on his lips, but a moan escapes anyways and then Yibo is sinking down onto his knees to pull his cock out to take it into his mouth. 

“Fuck, I missed you so much.”  he says, as he feels the heat of Yibo’s mouth around him, making him dizzy with pleasure.  His fingers climb into Yibo’s hair and massages his scalp gently as Yibo sucks him in deep. 

He remembers for a moment that this is exactly how Yibo had greeted him in New Zealand too, the way he blows him somehow letting him know that his husband really does want to swallow any and all worries that he had collected in all the time they’ve been away from each other. 

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Chapter Text

Time goes by in the way that it always does…

…just as it had done when Yibo had flown off a bike in front of him, as it had when Yibo had danced with NCT in front of him, as it had when Yibo had thrown up on his floor, drunk on heartache and tequila, just as it had when Yibo’s eyes had filled with those tears in that shower and he had decided that he really would do anything Yibo wanted when he looked at him like that, just like it had when just a few weeks later he had found an unconscious Yibo in the ER, and just like it had when Yibo had left the memories of those three weeks with him and him only…

…and just like it had in everything that followed, now too painful to recall with any clarity or detail.  He often forwarded those parts of his memory even in recollection.  The writer in him wished he could just skip over it, like a three-months later when he saw Yibo again in the lounge for Chinese New Year, but the writer in him also knew that that just meant those three months would have to be revisited in a painful flashback at some point later, and so, no, he just went through it in twice the speed… falling asleep in the tub after thinking that he had a conversation with Lan Wangji… reading on his phone for hours about head injuries… watching from Yibo’s upstairs while he talked with a girl… and finally admitting to himself that he needed to sleep.  Maybe for a long time.  Only to really do and then wake up in a hospital to find Yibo gone.   All the months that followed when he had had to learn to exist without Yibo with the nightmares and the loneliness and the self-imposed isolation…

The rest were pretty much all his favorite parts, and so he relished their recollection.  Even the bittersweet ones like all the weeks and months between Yibo sneaking into his room at his parents’ house and Yibo kissing him in the men’s bathroom… the moments before Yibo had decided to tie him up with shoelaces… the long hours in the airb&b waiting for Yibo reading his email again and again until he could recite it from his memory…

And then all the days after since they put rings on each other’s fingers.

They’ve been married six months now and had still told no one.  It wasn’t a conscious decision as much as one that had come about because of their particular circumstances.  Yibo is busier than ever, gaining some popularity even amongst choreographers.  Xiao Zhan had heard from Doyoung – who occasionally texted him in surprisingly good Mandarin – that Yibo had even gotten an offer for a Korean tv drama (the role of the bad-boy second lead!).  His eyes had fallen out of its socket when he had read that, not because he had been surprised – hell, anyone who has seen Yibo would have to at least consider putting him in front of a camera rather than letting him stay behind the scenes – but because Yibo hadn’t told him.  He had confronted Yibo about it later and they had gotten into a fight, with him yelling, “This is the same shit you did when you turned down SM the first time around without even telling me!”

“Okay, that part of my memory is still gone.  You can’t accuse me of shit I don’t remember!”  Had been Yibo’s comeback.

“Yea, okay! You have some selective recall, I’ve noticed.  You won’t admit to that kinda shit even if you did remember!”  had been his rejoinder.

“What exactly are you mad about?  That I turned SM down once upon a time??”  Yibo had been mad.  “Because even if I don’t remember doing that, I can guarantee you, if the circumstances were to repeat, I would do the exact same thing again.  So there!”

He had been too upset to say anything in return and had just hung up. 

And had called back immediately and apologized for hanging up, but had then gone right back with, “I’m upset that you didn’t tell me when you got the offer.”

“Why? So you can feel as if it’s somehow your fault that I’m going to turn them down?” 

He had taken a deep breath, and had asked, “So, what are you going to do?  Not tell me shit because you think I might feel a certain way about it?  I’m a grown-ass man.  I can handle shit.  You don’t need to make decisions for me preemptively.”

“I didn’t make decisions for you.  I made them for me.  About my life.  And if I didn’t want to go to Korea and join fucking SM, then it’s my decision, isn’t it?” 

“Fine!  Don’t tell me then.  Keep all that shit to yourself.  Because it doesn’t affect me at all, right?   And next time I do some shit, I won’t tell you either!”  he had yelled and hung up. Again.

And that time, he hadn’t had any plans of calling back.

But Yibo had called him right afterwards.  Not just regular call.  Video call.  From a bathroom stall at the SM studios’ men’s restroom. 

“You’re still at the studio?” he had asked in a whisper when he had seen Yibo’s face.  And Yibo had looked so tired that he had added on before anything else, forgetting the entire train of discussion that had led to the two hang-ups, “I miss you so much…”

Less than 24 hours later, Yibo had flown over to see him, coming like he always did, shortly after midnight with a text that said, “Baby, open the door.”  Even if Yibo never told him he was coming, and he generally didn’t, more often than not nowadays, he could tell when Yibo would.  He had had the same feeling this time around and had made a huge pot of soup and Yibo’s favorite rolls. 

Yibo looks at it now and stuffs a roll in his mouth before pulling Xiao Zhan into the bedroom.  Their lovemaking is urgent and passionate, Yibo’s kisses and bites leaving bruises.  He loses his mind, the orgasm coming upon him suddenly and sweeping him away in an undertow.  Once they shower and return to bed, Yibo pulls him in, burrowing his face into his neck, and Xiao Zhan holds him like that as they fall asleep.

Yibo’s flight back is at 7 in the morning and so they wake up at 4 to not have to rush.  While he makes breakfast, Yibo stands behind him, hugging him from the back like he always did, and finally brings up the subject.  “I don’t mean to not tell you stuff.”

“Oh yea?  Could’ve fooled me.”  he answers, although it doesn’t quite have the bite that the entire subject did on the phone.

“I just feel like you would think I would have regrets about some of my choices when, fuck, Xiao Zhan, the only thing I really regret it this shit.”

“What shit?” he asks, looking back at Yibo in profile.

“What kind of married life is this?  I literally have to finish up practice and book a flight that literally gets here after you’ve fallen asleep.  I wake you up to blow you, fuck you, or be fucked or blown, and then literally two hours of sleep, breakfast and then back again.  New Zealand seems like a million years ago.  Every other week, I think I’ll just quit and come back.”

He turns around to face Yibo and shakes his head.  “I can come to see you more often.”

“And then what?  Have you spend all day in my apartment while I’m at the studio anyways?  In between tours?”

He sighs as he thinks of that.  He has been to Yibo’s apartment five times in the last six months.  They did get more time together when he went to Korea because, unlike Yibo, he actually could stay a whole weekend, but Yibo somehow got grouchier after those weekends were over and would always find stupid things to fight about the night before he had to come back.  It used to annoy him as he knew it would happen without fail two hours before bedtime, but then it would be followed by the most needy sex, when Yibo more often wanted to bottom than top.  One such evening, when they had had what he had thought was the most pointless argument, and he had wrapped his arms around Yibo’s waist and had pulled him close as he took him against the desk in Yibo’s room, going slow for all that he was behind him, he had asked, his tone a bit teasing, “You love picking fights with me right before I leave?”

“I wish you didn’t have to leave.”  Yibo had answered, none of the teasing returned, his head falling back onto Xiao Zhan’s shoulder.

“When you’re here and then you’re gone, I can’t fuckin’ deal at all.”  Yibo had said, closing his eyes.  And a moment later, “Is this how it is for you when I come there and leave?” 

He had had to think of that.  As much as he missed Yibo, he loved how Yibo surprised him with his visits and was happy to get however many hours they could.  It was different from the pseudo-depression that Yibo seemed to fall into for a week after he came to Korea and left. 

He had shaken his head and had held Yibo close, kissing his nape, as he kept up the rhythm of his movements, moving a hand down to stroke Yibo’s dick that had started to bead up with pre-cum.

“Would it be better if we limited these trips?  When you have a weekend, come back home to me…”

And that had been that.

And so this present conversation between them is somewhat moot.

Although his thoughts are interrupted when Yibo says, “You like to accuse me of making decisions without telling you.  How about how you do the same?”

He looks up, confused.  “What do you mean?”

Yibo tilts his head.  “Why do you still live here, baby?  You’re all better now.  Your novel is done.  And you haven’t started a new one yet.  You can go back home now.”

“I…” he starts, although he doesn’t know quite what comes afterwards.  Truthfully, he could move back home.  He has been here more than a year now.  He did occasionally think of it, although he hadn’t quite pulled the trigger yet. 

“You know, I’m slow to make any change.”  he says finally, smiling.

“Bullshit.”  Yibo says, turning him back around and holding him around the waist once more.   “You’re still staying here so I can come to you whenever I want.”

“That’s not true.”  he says immediately.

“Is it not?”  Yibo asks.

He shakes his head.

“Bullshit.  We haven’t had to be around our family or friends since we got married.   So, you have no idea how it’s going to be when we finally have to be.  And you’re just thinking to put that off.”

They have both gone back home several times in the last six months.  But never at the same time. Their friends had come over to visit him many times too.  Although not while Yibo had been here.  They had all gone to visit Yibo in Korea for a weekend too, although Xiao Zhan hadn’t gone with them at the time, pleading an important work meeting (which had been true, in fact, he had had a meeting with the producer and director of Chen Qing Ling and several of the other staff in charge of setting up the schedule.  SM had finally agreed to Taeyong taking on the role of Lan Wangji, incredibly enough.). 

Which had all led their friends to likely still believe that things were still a bit awkward between them.  In truth though, he couldn’t imagine being anywhere near Yibo for any extended period of time without touching him.  Not consciously, but just subconsciously.   They had gotten used enough to being each other’s husbands that they didn’t know how to remember to act like they weren’t.  And he knew it was a different sort of touch now than before.  No one who saw them together now would even doubt what they were to each other. 

“We’ll have to go home for the Lunar New Year this year.  What are you going to do then?  Sneak into my parent’s house?”  he asks, smiling.

“Fuck, yes!”  Yibo answers.

Xiao Zhan turns his head, looking at Yibo startled, “You can’t.  You know that.”

“Why not?”  Yibo asks, tightening his hold.  “It’s not like I haven’t slept over.  I have slept over at your place tons.”

“When we were teenagers!  Not after the whole shit went down!  Have you lost your memories again?”

Yibo is quiet for just a moment before he bursts out with, “Why can’t we tell them again?”

“Tell them what?  Dads, moms, I know you four think that we haven’t seen each other since you know, I was sedated and taken away from the hospital and then ended up in Korea for the past year, but the reality is, we’re married. Have been for more than six months.  Yea, surprise!”

“First of all, I don’t sound like that.”  Yibo says, although he’s laughing too.

“Second of all…”

“Second of all…” He interrupts Yibo.  “It will give your poor mother an aneurysm.  Please!”

Yibo sighs and kisses the top of his shoulders, an absent gesture that he did often when he was thinking.

After a minute, Yibo says, “I can’t be that near you and not sleep with you.  You know that I’m literally physically incapable of that.”

“You’ll be fine.”  he answers, although he smiles at the pout that he hears in Yibo’s voice.

“I don’t want to be fine.  I want to be inside you.”  Yibo whispers, kissing below his ear, making him shiver.

“Fuck baby, don’t start something now when you know you can’t finish.”  he answers, although he already feels Yibo’s one hand climbing under his shirt while the other one glides down inside his pajama pants to stroke his semi. 

“Let me suck you off then.”  he whispers even though his head falls back against Yibo’s shoulder as the stroking continues.

“Later…” Yibo says huskily, moving in to suck on his lower lip. 

It makes him moan, especially when Yibo’s finger teases a hard nipple.

He can feel how hard Yibo is behind him and he rubs against him, making Yibo groan.  He reaches behind and slips his hand inside Yibo’s pants and pulls on his length, his movements jerky with how distracted he is with Yibo’s hand working its magic.

“Tell me to stay…” Yibo growls in his ear a moment later when he squeezes a bit too hard in his excitement.

“Mm…” he murmurs, trying to focus on Yibo’s words.  “Don’t leave baby.  Stay.  Stay with me the whole day.  Fuck, I miss you so much all the fucking time. I…”

Yibo cuts him off, turning him around abruptly and kissing him, full on the mouth.  Their cocks rub against each other and Yibo’s tongue slips in and he can’t…

He pulls back and looks at the clock.  “It’s only 4:50. It’s enough time.”  he pulls Yibo out of the kitchen and back into the bedroom.

He just needs lube and no fingers to prep him and practically pushes Yibo inside as soon as Yibo is on him.

Yibo groans at the pressure and grits his teeth for a long moment before opening his eyes to finally look down at him.

“I’m going to definitely steal into your bedroom at night at your parents’ house.”

He laughs at how earnest Yibo sounds and pulls his mouth down for a quick and dirty kiss before he saying,  “Please!  We didn’t even do that shit when we were young.  You walked in the front door like the local straight playboy that you were.”

Yibo shakes his head at that.  “What a fucking waste.  We could have been fucking all those years.”

“You were fucking all those years.”  he reminds Yibo.  There is no censure in his voice.

“Yea, but I would rather have been fucking you than anyone else.”  Yibo responds without much deliberation.

“Well, I would rather not.”  he answers.

That takes a moment to sink in and he can see the moment it does, because Yibo stops moving.

“What happened?” he asks, raising his head.

“You really don’t think we should have gotten together much earlier in life?”  Yibo asks, seriously.

“Aiyah, when have we not been together really?” he asks, putting his head back on the pillow.  “Just because we weren’t having sex…”

“I’m still jealous of the people who got to have you before me.” Yibo cuts him off.

“Why?  Should I be jealous of all the people who got to have you before me?” he asks.

“Yea, but you knew where my heart was.  Meanwhile…”

“Meanwhile?” He raises an eyebrow.

“I know you wouldn’t have had sex with anyone you didn’t having feelings for.”  Yibo answers.

“And that bothers you that I had feelings for other people once upon a time?” 

Yibo doesn’t even bother to look chagrined at being called out like this.

Instead, he just nods his head and murmurs, “I can’t stand the thought of you loving anyone else in that way other than me.”

His pupils must have dilated even more or something because Yibo leans down suddenly to kiss him, starting to move again, with much more control.

“Are you trying to sound possessive only because you know I get turned on by it?” he whispers when Yibo’s teeth rake down his neck.

“Do you?”  Yibo asks, tonguing the pulse on the side of his neck.

His answer is a moan and a sound of affirmation altogether.

“So you don’t really think I’m possessive?” Yibo asks as he lifts his head and watches him, his movements starting to pick up speed.

“Are you?” he asks, kneading Yibo’s ass with both hands.

“Yes… fuck yes.  I’m extremely possessive.” Yibo answers, the last few words higher in pitch when Xiao Zhan leans up to tongue his nipple.

When he comes, he buries his face into Yibo’s neck and breathes in his sweat, salty and tangy and oh so familiar, and gasps a little as he says, “I’m all yours then.  And you’re all mine.”

                                                                           ----------

Chapter Text

They get into a fight the night before he takes the train to come home for the New Year.  His train is in the morning.  Yibo’s flight isn’t until the evening.  He knows Yibo will be at the studio the whole day, packing up and taking his suitcase to the studio with the plan of leaving for the airport directly from there. 

Yibo hadn’t called him back after they had hung up on each other in anger.  And he hadn’t called Yibo either.  It was just as well.  They had been irate and short with each other for most of the week leading up to this trip back home, which if he really thought about it, is pretty classic them.  So, he couldn’t say that he is all that surprised that it had come to a head.  The actual event that caused the fight is no longer relevant, because in truth, the long-distance nature of their relationship and the continued hidden-from-the-world status of their marriage were both too (two) sore a point(s) to be overcome that easily. 

The reality of the matter is, marriage hadn’t suddenly changed either of them as people.  And it hadn’t suddenly changed the way in which they fought either.  It just made it hurt a bit more.  A lot more.  But he is willing to swallow this hurt if it killed him.  At least for the time being.  

He wants to know what Yibo will actually do once there are in the same town once more.  What Yibo’ll do when they have to see each other at the New Year party being hosted at Yibo’s place with both of their families and all of their friends and families too.   

He listens to an audio book on the entire train ride home, barely hearing a word of it.  But at least it allows him to pretend that he is doing something more productive than just perseverating on thoughts of Yibo.  He hopes dearly that Yibo is suffering in the same way.  That Yibo too has no fucking peace of mind, consumed with thoughts of his husband and why he isn’t calling to make up. 

By the time he gets home though, his head has cooled and he thinks of texting Yibo, no longer wanting to wait for Yibo to text first.  Although his immediate plans to do so are waylaid when he finds that Yibo’s mother is in the kitchen with his own mother, his father taking his suitcase upstairs to his room after whispering to him, “I think Lili has some grand plans for the party tomorrow.”

When he enters the kitchen, he hears Yibo’s mother’s excited voice, although both mothers pause and look in his direction as soon as he walks in.  They both start towards him at the same time, Yibo’s mother reaching him first, hugging him tightly and in genuine pleasure, before pulling back to ask, “Oh baby, your cheeks are all red.  Is it that cold outside?”

He rubs at his cheeks as if that will take care of it, but is distracted by the palpable excitement on Yibo’s mother’s face.  He looks at his own mother and sees her quick smile and shrug before they both look at Mrs. Wang again.

“You look like you won the lottery.  What’s going on?” He asks with a smile, leaning into the palm that she puts against his cheek briefly.  She smiles at the gesture and kisses him on his cheek before she pulls back and walks over to her regular bar stool by the kitchen island. 

“You know Yibo’s coming home tonight.”  She says as she takes her seat. 

This is not news to him as his mother had “prepared” him for this in advance, having a serious five-minute conversation about it on the phone with him last week. 

When he nods, Mrs. Wang takes a deep breath and claps her hand together in one quick excited beat before dropping the bomb, “I’ve found the perfect girl for him.” 

He is glad he is next to the island and finds himself unthinkingly leaning against it for support.   

Mrs. Wang doesn’t seem to notice in her excitement as she continues, “I know you’ve found someone there in the Clouds because you’re practically blooming in love, so I thought this is the perfect time to find someone for Yibo too.”

He feels hot and sickeningly cold all at the same time and grasps at the coolness of the granite of the countertop underneath his fingers to ground himself before asking, “What does Yibo have to say about it?”

“I haven’t told him.  You know he never reacts well if you tell him things like this.”  Mrs. Wang remarks, practically rolling her eyes.

“Then?” he asks.

“She is coming to the party tomorrow.  With her family.  I’m not going to tell him anything about her beforehand.  But she’ll be here.  And then he can just meet her naturally, you know.  Not like a setup or matchmaking or anything.”

He takes that news in.  And swallows.  And swallows again when he finds his throat dry.  And then somehow thinks to ask, “What if he shows no interest?” 

This is historically when Mrs. Wang would acknowledge that that might be a problem and appeal for his help in furthering the matter and making a valid case of its merit to Yibo. 

She does no such thing now.

Instead, she says, “He’s more mature and serious now, so I think he’ll be a bit more open to meeting people, you know.  Besides, she is really quite beautiful.  Yibo won’t be able to resist.  Just his type.  Really any man’s type.”  she adds the last bit on matter-of-factly, but then looks at him again and winks to say, “But especially Yibo’s type.”

He looks in his mother’s direction, although rather than watching him, she is watching Mrs. Wang, smiling, clearly pleased at this news that Yibo’s mother has resumed her matchmaking efforts.

“You should see her, Xiao Zhan.  Such a lovely girl.  A bit too sexy for your liking, I think.  I would pick someone more classic for you.  And I would too if I wasn’t completely convinced that you haven’t found someone already… ah ah,” she puts a hand up to preemptively put a stop to anything he may even think of offering in denial, and instead, continues with, “Boy, I know you almost as well as my own child.  I know when you’re in love, so don’t even try.”

He looks at his mother again and sees that she is looking at him with a smile, and for the first time it makes him realize that she believes it too… this nonsense story about him having found love in the Clouds when really… well, okay, yea…

“You’ll like her, Xiao Zhan.”  He hears Mrs. Wang continue and looks back at her, his mind too stunned by the barrage of information to properly process what’s happening. 

“She has a good sense of humor.  You know Yibo likes girls who can make him laugh.” 

“Where did you find this paragon of sexy and funny?”  he asks without thinking, and fortunately catches his tone a hair-breadth’s moment before both mothers turn to him in surprise.  He covers his expression with a wide smile and a wink and can almost see their eyebrows relax. 

“At the gym.”  Mrs. Wang answers as if he had meant the question seriously.

“At the gym?” he asks, taken aback.

“Yes! Would you believe it?”  She seems just as amazed that eligible bachelorettes are just walking around in the gym, fresh for the plucking.

“That’s random.”  he answers, still trying to keep his voice neutral.

“Yea, I know!  I joined a new gym a few months ago and this girl’s brother is the owner.  So, she is there sometimes instead of him, minding the whole place.  She helped me out once when I lost my car keys at the gym.   And we just got to chatting about this and that and the rest, as they say, is history.”  She smiles widely, clearly proud of her find, like some precious antique she had found at a flea market. 

Mrs. Wang pauses for a moment to turn in his mother’s direction. “You should see the brother too, Zuzu, quite the looker he is.”  And then looks back at him to add, “If I or your mother had a daughter, I would’ve definitely nabbed him too.  But alas…”

Yibo’s mother’s surety of the world’s heterosexuality was truly nothing short of astounding…

And then the other part of her story strikes him…

A good-looking gym owner was not a categorically rare thing, but still… what were the odds…

He doesn’t quite get to finish his thought before Mrs. Wang says, “So, we’ve gotten friendly with the whole family and they are all coming over for the party tomorrow.”

He takes in the news, his hand absently moving to his chest, fingering through the layers of his shirt and undershirt the metal of his wedding ring that is warm against his chest.

                                                                                 xxxxxxxxxxxx

Chapter Text

He thinks of excusing himself from the kitchen to go up to his room, but Mrs. Wang keeps up a steady stream of conversation and she seems so genuinely happy to have his company and his mother looks pleased too – it feels like a long time indeed since he has seen her this relaxed – that he forgets that plan entirely, and before long, he is in the mix of some of the food preparation for the party the next day.

It had always been like this, whether the party was at Wang’s or Xiao’s, their mothers had always cooked together.

The crowd expected tomorrow is larger than usual and thus, the menu is bigger too. He thinks the magnitude of the feast they are preparing is to please the family of the girl his mother-in-law has selected for his husband and it sours his mood for a bit before he rewinds that whole sentence and his brain pauses on that word mother-in-law.

He looks over at said mother-in-law now, who is in the midst of slicing some onions and there is a steady stream of tears running down her cheeks that she is trying hard to wipe off with her sleeve.

He smiles at the sight, a surge of affection rising up out of nowhere, and reaches over to take the knife and the cutting board from her. “Here, let me do it.”

There’s a mountain of onions. The red beastly kind. His eyes are going to be red for ages.

Mrs. Wang smiles as she murmurs, “You’re truly God’s own child!” passing the chore on happily, getting him a fresh pair of gloves.

“I know.” he winks as he takes on the task.

“You trying to lure him back to China with this girl, Mrs. Wang?” he asks after a beat while she is setting up all the vegetables that she has to peel. His mother is putting some meat through the grinder and even though her back is to him, he notices with relief that she is finally not holding her breath like she always used to whenever the subject of Yibo came up with him in the room.

“I doubt that it’ll work.” Mrs. Wang replies absently, but then looks up at him with wide eyes as if only then realizing what she had let slip.

He looks at his mom. She’s preoccupied with the twirling motion of the contraption that she is operating and is hardly paying attention to them.

When he looks back at Mrs. Wang, he sees that she is looking at his mother too, and then she turns back to him.

But she says no more about what she had let slip and instead asks him about the television series that will start shooting in a few months.

“I’m a big fan of Lee Taeyong, you know.” she says after he gives a brief of the schedule.

“You are?” he asks in surprise.

“Yes!” her eyes are wide in excitement.

“Dear God, Mrs. Wang, you’re more in the loop with the young’uns than I am!”

“Well, my son choreographs for them, so you know…” she says.

“True.” he nods.

And thus the conversation continues for the rest of the afternoon and into the early evening. It’s easy to slip into old routines like this, there is something so very familiar and comforting about it. Yibo’s mother had always had a soft spot for him growing up and he savors that attention now, realizing how much he had missed it all through this past year.

He notices at some point that his mother is watching the two of them, a soft content smile on her lips, and even though a mountain of unresolved problems lay ahead, he still relaxes under the soft sway of comfort the two of them offers. He had not realized how much he had been without this… this ocean of maternal affection that he had cut himself off from for a long while now, as if in punishment for having fallen in love with Yibo. Maybe a part of him felt guilty to Mrs. Wang and his own too. Maybe that’s why he had stayed away for so long, continued to stay away. It’s easier to love and be loved by Yibo when he didn’t have to deal with the world’s assessment of it. No, that’s not true… their mothers are not the rest of the world. Their mothers are the women who thought of them more than anyone else in the world. Who likely had lost sleep many a night over the past year while they had all had to come to terms with Yibo’s accident and its aftermath. Who had only been able to stand back and watch as their children suffered without knowing with any certainty what would help and what wouldn’t. Yibo already made decisions for the two of them based on what he thought Xiao Zhan could handle. Not wanting him to feel guilty or have regrets because so many of Yibo’s life decisions seemed to rest on him. If Yibo could act like that and think himself justified, why couldn’t the women who birthed them?

So lost in thought is he in this manner that it catches him by surprise when Mrs. Wang suddenly says, “Yibo’s flight just landed!”

“What?” he asks, his eyes rounded in surprise as he looks at the clock. It’s only just past six in the evening. Yibo’s flight wasn’t supposed to come in until after 9.

“Yea, he was on standby for an earlier flight and got it. Shoot! I should wrap up here.” she says as she pulls off her apron.

“Zuzu, can you finish these?” she turns to his mom, but he moves over to her side to take the board and pile of vegetables from her. “Here, I got it.”

She looks up at him with a smile and leans up to kiss him on the cheek. “I love you so much, you know that?” she asks. As affectionate as Mrs. Wang is generally with him, this is still new even for her, although from her expression when he looks at her, it’s clear that what she is also saying is, I’m so glad you’re back to your old self.

“I love you very much, too.” he tells her with a smile as he takes her apron.

And then she is off, calling out a loud goodbye to his father in the living room.

He helps his mother clean up in relative silence, although he doesn’t know that that silence is mainly he being lost in thoughts until she asks, “You sure you up for this?”

He looks sideways at her, startled, taking the newly washed plate that she hands him to dry.

“What do you mean?” he asks, although he can very well imagine what she means.

“It’s been a long time since you’ve seen him.” she remarks.

Five weeks. That’s how long it’s been since he’s seen Yibo. Which, yes, in his mind, is a long time indeed.

He shrugs for lack of a better response.

He knows even his friends have not mentioned that one time that Yibo had come to the Clouds along with them. Even they seem to know without any spoken arrangement of sorts that no one mentioned anything about the two of them together to any of their parents.

And it strikes him anew what a long way they have to travel still to bring their parents up to speed. To go from we-haven’t-seen-each-other-in-a-year-and-it’s-still-a-bit-of-a-taboo-to-talk-about-either-in-front-of-the-other to we-got-hitched-six-months-ago-in-New-Zealand-and-are-now-each-other’s-emergency-contacts…

He sighs as a strange combination of anxiety and fatigue blooms inside him.

“How does he look to you?” he asks his mother, genuinely curious.

She tilts her head in contemplation, her scrubbing hand on the plate slowing down.

“Lili’s right. He is more mature. And serious. All the old brattiness is all gone. I don’t know if it’s the actual accident, the memories he lost, or…” she pauses here, her hand completely still… then a short breath before she turns to him, “or just losing you.”

He’s surprised that she says it. It’s one thing for Yibo’s mother to admit it and another entirely for his own to do so. He thinks she’s always been worried that openly acknowledging as much would somehow make him go find Yibo again and undo everything.

She really must believe that he's in a happy relationship somewhere for her to finally have let go of that fear.

“Although he’s been exceptionally nice to me.”

“Oh?” he looks over in surprise.

She nods with a smile. “Like he’s really trying to be polite or something, I don’t know. It’s weird. Since when has he ever needed to do that?” she huffs out a laugh as he tries to imagine Yibo trying to be polite to his mother.

It’s an awkward picture that appears in his brain and he shakes the image off with a laugh.

He’s glad when the phone rings just then and his mother is distracted. He gestures to her that he’s going upstairs for a bath and she nods, ushering him ahead murmuring, “I’ll take care of the rest.”

He checks his phone when he gets upstairs and there are a few missed calls and texts, but all from their friends. Nothing from Yibo.

He frowns and puts his phone back down, grabbing a towel to go take a bath.

When he returns from the bath, there’s nothing still, and he goes down for dinner. And there’s nothing still when he returns from dinner.

His earlier urge to call Yibo has now disappeared entirely and he turns his phone off fully when he gets in bed and under the covers. He cannot fall asleep for a long while and it takes him some time to figure out that some part of him is really and truly expecting Yibo to sneak in to his room somehow. It’s after 2 in the morning by the time he accepts that that won’t be happening and finally falls into a restless sleep, now pissed off more than anxious.

The next morning passes by in a blur and Yibo still doesn’t call. He tries to keep busy, helping his mother. She is planning on going over to Yibo’s house early to help out and asks him if he wants to come with. His father is going too. He tells them to go on ahead, telling them that Lulu and Ziyi are coming over and that he’ll catch a ride with them later. His mother nods, likely thinking that he wants no real time alone with Yibo, and he’s glad that she reaches her own conclusions without questioning him.

Lulu and Ziyi do come over, although shortly thereafter, Haikuan, Yubin, and Ji Li arrive as well. Everyone wants to head over together, all their parents having gone ahead earlier.

“Did Yibo get here already?” he hears Yubin from outside his bedroom. He had gone downstairs to get something, but now pauses outside the room, listening.

“He got here last night.” Lulu is the one who answers.

“How do you know?” Yubin asks.

“I texted him when he was MIA on the group chat.” Lulu says.

“That asshole. What happened now? Why is he icing us out again?” Yubin mutters. “You think they got into a fight or something?” It’s said quietly, but it’s Yubin, and his quiet is not always all that quiet.

He hears a bit of a shushing and then Ziyi saying, “How can they get into a fight when they don’t even talk to each other? Fuck, the last time he was at the Clouds, the boy would barely go near Xiao Zhan.”

He closes his eyes as he remembers, that weekend coming back to him as if it was only yesterday. And then, Yibo’s silence for the last two days is all superimposed onto the hurt from that weekend and he feels the pain as if Yibo’s rejecting him all over again. Even though the rational part of his brain knows that that’s not true.

“I honestly never thought I would see the day when I would see one of them without the other, much less all this bullshit.” Yubin answers.

“He’s changed a lot since moving to Korea.” that’s Haikuan’s voice and it gives him pause.

“I don’t think Korea has anything to do with it.” Ziyi answers.

“What is it then?” Haikuan asks.

“He’s away from everything he knows. Obviously that’s bound to be hard.” Ji Li is the one who offers this.

“I’m not saying that it’s not hard. I’m not even offering any reasons for why he’s changed. I’m just saying that he has. I’m not even saying that it’s all bad. It’s just… you know, sometimes I miss the old one.”

“What old one?” Lulu asks, sounding offended. “He’s busy. They make him work crazy ass hours. It’s a career. How can we expect him to reply to every group chat, line, and meme when his job looks a lot different than ours?”

A brief silence follows Lulu’s outburst, and it’s Ziyi who breaks it with, “I still miss the brat. This one is a bit too…”

He trains his ears when there is a quiet that follows as if Ziyi is thinking of an apt descriptor.  Haikuan finishes it for her with, “a bit too idol.” He laughs afterwards, almost as if it sounds strange to his ears, and then says with another laugh, “I sometimes feel like he’s already flown our little coop, you know. We’re like the old friends of a celebrity. The group he knew before he got famous.”

Lulu scoffs at this. “He choreographs for famous people. That hardly means he is famous himself.”

“Okay, so famous is maybe a poor choice of word. Although it likely won’t be too much more time before he is. You know he got that offer for a role in that k-drama.”

He frowns at this. How did they know when he himself had only found out from Doyoung.

“Oh, come on, that’s not even public news. He wouldn’t have even told us if we weren’t in Korea with him when he got the offer.” Ji Li says.

He feels a little sick inside as the conversation continues in that manner for a few more turns.

And wonders if maybe… just missing each other hadn’t been a good enough reason to rush into getting married. Especially when Yibo’s life and career were truthfully on a different trajectory from his own. They could have still been together the way they were without bringing marriage into the mix. That way, Yibo would always be free to call it off whenever he wanted to.

He closes his eyes and tries to stop his thoughts. They were just having a fight. He couldn’t start to doubt their relationship every time they fought. That was just a recipe for disaster.

But his stomach is already in knots as he walks back a few steps and makes sure to knock into something to alert the group that he is coming back.

And that feeling only intensifies when he looks at his phone later on as they are about to leave the house and notices that Yibo still hasn’t texted him. Although, text messages arrive on the rest of their phones from Yibo asking where they all were and what was taking them all so goddamn long.

Ziyi laughs reading the text, musing out loud, “Famous, my ass. He’s still a fucking brat.”

-----

Chapter Text

He sees Yibo almost as soon as he enters the house.  He’s at the back of their little group, and it allows him to look through the foyer to the living room in the distance.  And there he is.  He is glad for a moment that he is so far away. 

Because it seems like his husband came to kill.

Probably him.

But the side effect is that everyone else is going to die too.

Yibo’s dressed in a pair of black jeans that are so snug that the size of the rips at the knees must be only to allow blood to flow through the femoral artery.  There’s a bespoke herringbone jacket with brown elbow patches.  

Elbow patches.  What for?  He wonders.  To remove the sex oozing out of the jeans?  

His gaze travels up still.  The elbow patches have a contradiction up top too.  The hair.  It’s now highlighted in a dirty-blonde and there is a slight wave to it that’s pulled back in a half pony at the back.  The hair beneath the short tail of the pony is close cropped. 

There’s something narrow and steel-colored hanging from Yibo’s earlobe.  It dangles now when Yibo laughs a little.  And it draws his attention to that Adam’s apple.  It looks like a sharpened blade from here. 

Yea, no, this is not just manslaughter.  

This is premeditated.  Murder in the first.

“Fuck, how did he get even more gorgeous?”  Ziyi asks, sublimating his violent thoughts.

“You sure they’re not training him to be an idol?”  Yubin asks.

“Seriously…” Lulu agrees.

Lulu!

Who is now staring at Yibo in something akin to awe.

As are the rest of them.

As is the young woman talking to Yibo.   He can tell from all this way away that she is trying to hide it.  She is quite beautiful too. 

He can see it.  How she can’t even hide it. It’s in the way she’s holding her hand, tilting her hip a bit, parting her lips. 

All the signs of barely concealed desire.

He doesn’t know what he expected on the car ride here.

Maybe a version of this.   Although maybe a much milder version.  Not this open awe and lusting from all and sundry.

However he had thought he would react, it’s still not how it goes.

“I’ll catch you all later.”  he murmurs to the group and walks off to the right without waiting for their response.

He knows where Yibo’s parents keep the alcohol.  It’s in a cabinet in the room they used as a library of sorts.  It’s a side room and he walks there hoping to find no one inside.

And he’s in luck when he opens the door and peers inside.  A side light is on, but it seems out of necessity because of the party rather than anything else.  The room is empty.  He steps in and closes the door behind him. 

He knows Yibo’s dad keeps a couple of glasses next to the liquor in the cabinet and walks over to see what the current stash of spirits is. 

Early on, when he and Yibo used to sneak in here, it had always been a bottle of Johnnie Walker they had found.  Something neither of them had developed a taste for.

He goes over and drops to his knees in front of the cabinet.  It’s not locked and when he opens it, he sees that it’s still the same.  A bottle of Johnnie Walker.  Except this is Blue Label.  It takes him aback.  Since when had Mr. Wang started buying the hefty, pricey stuff.

For a moment, he wonders at the merit of what he is about to do.

And then, an image of Yibo in the drawing room swims into his mind’s eye.  Yibo, dressed like he wants everything within a ten-mile radius to kneel down and surrender.

It’s a brand new bottle, he sees.  Mr. Wang is bound to notice that it’s been tampered with. 

Fuck it.

He rips open the foil, twists the cork out, and grabs the fancy crystal glass sitting right next to it face down.  He has enough sense to pour only a little for the first sip. 

He expects to wince, except it’s much smoother than he expects.  He pauses after the first sip to get a feel for its trail leaving a warmth down his throat and chest before it settles into his belly with a little flourish, as if to announce, I’m expensive for a reason.  

He takes a second sip, a bigger one.  The path has been eased and this one flows along with nary a peep, just a smoky glow.

In the middle of the third sip – a long one – he remembers that he hasn’t eaten anything in awhile. 

It doesn’t really give him pause, though, as he finishes that one and takes another sip.

By the time he is on his fifth sip, he hears the door open.  That gives him pause.  He’s sitting on the floor by the cabinet, which is blocking him from the door.  He’s hoping whoever has stumbled in just lost their way and would realize it posthaste and step back out and leave him to continue to help himself to his father-in-law’s top-shelf scotch.

There’s a pause and he holds the glass in his hand and waits.

A long moment later, the door closes again.

He hunches over with a sigh of relief.   And then giggles.  That had been close.  But he had not been caught.  It makes him giggle again as he takes another sip and sinks down fully onto the floor, leaning back against the closed door of the cabinet.

If he doesn’t know that he’s starting to get a buzz from the giggling, then he sure as hell figures it out when it takes him a moment to notice the feet just beyond the open door of the cabinet. 

He tilts his head as he gazes at the argyle green and red pattern on the socks for far longer than his reflexes demand before following up the leg it’s attached to and then the torso wrapped in a snug sweater – what the fuck is this with everyone in snugclothing?? – and then even farther up to a grinning face.

It’s such an openly wonderful grin that he smiles back without thinking.

Yizhou drops down next to him on his knees, looking at the bottle in his one hand and the glass in the other.

“Is this a private party?”  he asks, looking back up, lifting a teasing eyebrow.

He nods with a smile, taking another sip.  And runs his tongue over his upper lip as he proclaims, “This is some truly delicious shit.”

“I bet.” Yizhou says and the tone of his voice makes him look at that face more properly.  Yizhou’s eyes are on his lips.

He clears his throat and Yizhou’s gaze returns to his eyes.

“We broke up already.  You can’t do that anymore.”  he says, gesturing with his half-full glass.

Yizhou tilts his head. “Why not?  Seems like the wolf has lost his territory marking rights.”

His eyes narrow in confusion.

“Didn’t he forget like a whole year?  And move away to Korea?”  Yizhou asks.

The buzz seems like it’s starting to evaporate and so he takes another long drag from the glass.  Although halfway through it, Yizhou pulls back on the glass.  “That’s too much, baby.”

He closes his eyes. 

Baby.

Even if it’s Yizhou who said it, all he hears is Yibo’s voice.

And he hears it now, inside his head.  All the different versions of it.  Some cajoling, some in petulance, some in irritation, and a lot of them, husky and hoarse with need.

He brings his hands up to his temple and holds it there. 

A moment later, he feels Yizhou’s hand gently take the bottle out of his hold.  He puts it down and comes back for the glass in his hand, but instead of letting him take it, Xiao Zhan brings it to his mouth at the last minute and chugs the rest.

“Fuck, you’re going to be so drunk!”  Yizhou exclaims, although there is just fondness in his voice as he says it.

It makes him open his eyes and look at Yizhou carefully.

“Are you hitting on me?” he asks after a moment.

“I’m trying to make sure you don’t get drunk.”  Yizhou answers, taking the now empty glass out of his hand.

“So, you’re not hitting on me.”  he murmurs, now a statement more than a question, nodding and starting to turn away.

“I didn’t say that.” Yizhou says, making him look back.

“Why?”  he asks.

“My sister is…” there’s a pause now as Yizhou tries to maybe find the right word.

“Being set up with Yibo?”  he asks, helpfully.

Yizhou doesn’t nod, but does look back at him.

“So, what is this?  A pity pick-up?  I’m a basket case and you think I need an ego boost?”  he asks, feeling an unaccountable irritation, although he knows that there is no reason to take it out on Yizhou.

Yizhou’s smile finally disappears.  

He sighs internally.  He is not good company right now.  He opens his mouth to say as much when suddenly Yizhou bends down to kiss him.

He draws back automatically, the alcohol not touching that particular reflex of his.

“Sorry…” Yizhou says, pulling back.  “I have no idea why you think you would ever need a pity pick-up.  You’ve never not been…” Yizhou trails off without finishing.

He’s not so drunk that he needs to let Yizhou finish.

“It doesn’t matter even if he never remembers, Yizhou.”  he says instead, sitting back against the cabinet.

There’s a long moment of silence and he expects Yizhou to get up and leave.

Instead, Yizhou sighs and gets off his knees and slides down next to him to sit back against the cabinet.

When he looks over at Yizhou, it’s to see him smile.  This is a sweet smile.  A somewhat resigned one too.  “Fuck, I don’t think I’ll ever stop trying to get you if I think I have even a sliver of a chance.”

He smiles hearing that.  “How are you this sweet and still haven’t figured out that there’s someone else who adores you the same way?

There’s a silence that falls then and when it stretches, he turns in Yizhou’s direction, his eyes widening.  “You know, don’t you?”

“Hmm.”  Is all Yizhou says.

“Fuck.”  he murmurs, dropping his head to his knees. 

A moment later though, Yizhou says, “You really can’t force what you feel, eh?  I can’t. And you can’t either.  It’s just the way it is.  The heart really is a fickle thing.”

That makes him laugh as he looks at Yizhou.  “Don’t you mean the opposite of fickle? Because we are definitely cursed with that.  Whatever that is.”

“The opposite of fickle.”  Yizhou tries it out slowly.   

And then nods.  “That’s what we are, huh…”

                                                                            xxxxxxxxxxx

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Chapter Text

“I like this whiskey.” he says after a beat, trying to reach for the bottle again. 

“uh uh…”  Yizhou grabs the bottle and holds it away from him.

“Oh come on!  I already opened it. I’m going to get shit for it anyways, might as well indulge in it some more before I’m caught.”  He pouts as he reaches for it, which Yizhou raises up high.

He mentally assesses his agility to try to fight for it, but then looks at Yizhou’s grinning face and decides against it.  That wouldn’t go well either way. 

When he’s about to lower his hand down, Yizhou raises an eyebrow and teasingly brings the bottle down an inch, once again within his reach, and this time he really does get baited by both the teasing and the promise of a bit more of the taste of the blue stuff and lunges for it.  He miscalculates when alcohol-unencumbered Yizhou quickly pulls out of the way, making him tumble against Yizhou’s chest.  

He closes his eyes and shakes his head as he feels the warmth of Yizhou’s hold around his waist, steadying him.  And for a moment, as Yizhou’s cologne swirls around him, all he can think of is that it’s not Yibo’s scent, not Yibo’s touch, it’s not…

“Well well well…” he hears suddenly – suspiciously sounding like Ziyi’s voice- and opens this eyes to look up.

Yup, it’s Ziyi alright. Grinning mischievously at the both of them and winking at him.  “Fuck, Xiao Zhan, of course when you decide to go for it, you only get the best, eh?”

He bites on the inside of his cheek, feeling accountably embarrassed, and tries to pull back from Yizhou’s hold as gingerly as possible.  Although, instead of letting him ease off, Yizhou’s hold around his waist tightens and he looks at Yizhou in confusion.  Yizhou is not looking at him, however, but still in Ziyi’s general direction, although now his gaze is changed and no longer teasing.

He feels a dark swirl of dread unfurling in his belly as he follows Yizhou’s gaze and then notices that the rest of the gang is now with Ziyi too.   His eyes alight for a brief moment on Ji Li’s face and he quickly shakes his head to signal No No, this is not what it looks like, but then a face at the back arrests his attention.

For a moment, he is frozen in place as he sees the features that have been filling his drunken-stupor-brain for the past… hour?  well, most of the precious fucking minutes since he was born really…

“Hey hottie!”  Ziyi’s voice shakes him out of his inertia and he looks at Yizhou and taps his chest once.  Yizhou is grinning at Ziyi, but now looks at him and releases his hold.

“Damn, you’re seriously gorgeous.  Do you work out?  You sure you don’t bat for our team?  I mean, I know no one’s as pretty as Zhan-Zhan, but still…”  Ziyi asks again and he is so thankful for her outrageous gay-flirting as he eases himself out of Yizhou’s hold.

He tries to not look in Yibo’s direction again, because he’s seen Yizhou’s sister standing right next to him. 

“You’re so shameless!”  Lulu remarks, slapping at Ziyi’s hand and Ziyi looks at her and winks.  “Oh, come on, look at him.  A girl’s gotta try!”

Yubin laughs out loud while Haikuan darts a quick look in Ziyi’s direction, his expression something akin to pained. 

Yizhou laughs at the open adoration. “I’m afraid Xiao Zhan plucked my heart out a long time ago.”

He looks up at Yizhou’s admission, startled, turning in Yibo’s direction.

Yibo’s expression is inscrutable though as he watches him. 

He’s never seen an expression like that on Yibo’s face before.  He wishes for a moment that he hadn’t gotten drunk, because that’s exactly what he is.  Drunk.  Like his thoughts are barely connecting with each other, much less letting him think of what is a good way to proceed.

“And you are?”  he hears then and looks up again.  It’s Yibo’s voice.

“My brother.”  the beautiful girl by his side says, something a lot like pride in her voice.  He looks at her and sees that she’s looking back at him, her eyes alight with mirth.  He doesn’t know if she’s just really friendly or completely unaware of the undercurrents here.

Yibo walks forward and his friends part around him to make way. He stands looking down at Yizhou for a moment, and Yizhou looks up at him, his expression more severe than he’s ever seen.

Yibo crouches down next to them and although he’s watching him like a hawk, Yibo doesn’t look in his direction, keeping his eyes trained only on Yizhou.

“Wang Yizhou.”  Yizhou says now, extending a hand in Yibo’s direction.  “We met once before, but you likely don’t remember.”

Yibo grabs the hand extended easily, although the handshake is hard and formal before they let go of each other.

“Hm.  You’re right. I don’t remember.”  Yibo says after a moment, still not looking his way.

Yizhou and Yibo stare at each other without looking away and after a long moment of that, he’s had enough. 

He gets up abruptly, forgetting that that’s not advised under the influence of whiskey, and immediately stumbles.

Yibo and Yizhou both reach out simultaneously, but Yizhou’s right next to him and has a better angle to help steady him.

He looks at Yibo once he is back on his feet.

And finally Yibo is looking at him once again, although his gaze remains unreadable.

It makes him so pissed off that he smiles in that artificial way that he never does and says, “It’s been a while.  I see you’ve made some new friends.”

Yibo doesn’t smile back.  But raises an eyebrow and returns with, “And I see that you’re reacquainting with some old ones.”

The way in which he says it… and the way that he looks… and the girl standing there behind them… Xiao Zhan can feel the anger rolling up his back in waves.

He looks down at Yizhou and gives him what he hopes is his most blinding smile.  “When the company is so pleasant, it’s always a pleasure to reacquaint.”

Yizhou looks surprised, although he smiles back automatically. “The pleasure is all mine.”

He doesn’t look back at Yibo, because he’s too pissed to do so, and thinks of how to leave the room without seeming rude.

Lulu swoops in to help like the Guardian Angel she is, announcing that they’ve been missing out on the most delicious appetizers and grabbing Xiao Zhan’s hand to pull him along with her.

He can hear the rest of them following behind as he leaves the room, and feels Lulu squeeze his hand.  He looks over at her and she smiles in reassurance.

He’s thankful then that at least someone knows at least something about how he feels about Yibo because all the pretend is going to crush him into a pulp.

He stays with Lulu and avoids Yibo for the rest of the party. 

Yibo doesn’t really try to seek him out either. Even during the actual dinner, he is seated quite far away from Yibo and is glad for it.  Yizhou switches places with Yubin – who was on his right – to sit next to him.  He shoots a quick look in Yibo’s direction and notices that Yibo doesn’t even notice, engrossed as he is in conversation with Yizhou’s sister. 

He feels Lulu’s hand squeeze his on the left and he looks at her, putting on a smile, squeezing it back to let her know that he’s okay.

The metal of the ring against his chest chafes now and he tries to ignore both it and the breaking sensation underneath it as he tries to get through the evening.

And that’s what he needs to do.  Get through the evening.  He hopes at least a couple of his friends were planning on going back to their homes at a decent enough time so that he can catch a ride with them.  Because he honestly doesn’t know how much more of this he can take.

Whatever they had fought about a few days ago seems a distant memory now.  This night is so much worse than the fight because if this is how they continue the fight, it didn’t bode well for any long-distance fights in the future. Because that’s what it will be. Long distance.  He didn’t want to move to Korea. And Yibo needed to stay with SM.  And maybe however much he had thought that they would be able to make it work, now that the novelty has worn off in their relationship, it would only be a matter of time before silly fights and stubbornness would start creating more and more wedges between them.  And good intentions and great sex just wouldn’t be enough of a glue to keep everything together. 

He doesn’t think it will be too hard to dissolve a marriage that no one knows about. They might not even need to return to New Zealand to do it. And even if they did, he could go by himself.  Yibo will likely be too busy to do that anyways.

He wants to move back home after it’s done. He doesn’t think he’ll do well if he stays by himself in his flat in the Clouds.  Here, he’ll have his family and friends around to fight his natural proclivity to descend into moroseness on matters concerning Yibo.

By the time the evening is winding down, the parents have started to leave, taking tupperwares full of leftovers packed for them by Mrs. Wang and his mother.

Yizhou and his family leave too.  As he gives him a quick hug, Yizhou whispers, “Call me sometime.  Even if your heart is currently not available, I’m going to make a concerted effort to wear it down.” 

He pulls back from the hug with a smile, even as he says, “I’m a lost cause.”

Yizhou takes it in stride. “Still, you’re worth the effort.”

It’s said so sincerely that without thinking, he moves back in for another quick hug, squeezing Yizhou tightly for a moment before letting go and pulling back.

Yizhou looks surprised, although his eyes are warmer as he walks away.

He follows Lulu into the kitchen and notices that the rest of the gang is there too, helping his mothers clean up.

He moves in to help as well and focuses on getting this done as quickly as possible so that Lulu and Ziyi will make a move to leave.

Everyone’s in a good mood, although tired, as they move about chatting and cleaning up.   He stands at the sink, washing dishes, thankful that the chore gives him enough privacy with his back to the others to sift through his thoughts.  He’s not going to touch anything even distantly related to feelings, because that’s a pandora’s box that he cannot open right now.  But thoughts, those he need to be objective and in order as he figures out what to do from here on out.

He knows that Yibo’s home for one more day before he has to return.  Given his otherwise crazy schedule, that seemed like a lot of time, but given how things were, it’ll be over before he knew it.  And, now that Yibo is pissed and uninterested in making up, it doesn’t matter anyways.

He had thought earlier in the evening of trying to make up himself, but given how the evening had gone, he had changed his mind.  

It likely seemed unfair. How quickly he is willing to let go when he thinks Yibo is angry or giving him the silent treatment.  But he thinks, rather than unfair, it just shows how little he thinks their relationship has a chance of surviving the obstacles in its way.  In the heat of the moment, it’s easy to think that love could conquer everything.  But ultimately, it crumbled so easily under even the light weight of petty shit.

He sighs as he puts the large plate that he’s washing aside to pick up a cup.

And his spine stiffens when he hears the footsteps walking into the kitchen, knowing without having to turn around that it’s Yibo.

“Was it your plan to set me up with that girl?”  he hears Yibo ask his mother, his tone matter-of-fact for all that the question is pointed and abrupt.

He hears all the movements in the kitchen cease.  Their fathers are both not there, but their mothers are, and so are Ziyi, Lulu, Ji Li, Haikuan, and Yubin.

The silence is deafening and he lowers the soapy cup in his hand silently down to the sink, not wanting the ceramic to slip out of his cold fingers.

“I wouldn’t call it a setup.”  He hears Yibo’s mother remark.

“Then, what would you call it?”  Yibo asks, and once again his voice is strangely neutral.

“An opportunity.   To meet some new people.”  Yibo’s mother answers, as if she had practiced this answer in just this tone in the event the subject ever came up. 

“For what purpose?”  Yibo asks.

“Eyy!” Ziyi cuts in now, breaking the tension. “Why are you being so rude?”

“I’m not rude.  I’m just asking a question.  Did my mother invite them over to set me up with the daughter?  I want to know.”

There is a long, strained silence and his heart is in his throat.  And he dares not turn around.

“Yes.”  He hears Mrs. Wang finally relent.  And tries to not fall over into the sink as the pit of his belly shrinks into a peanut.

“Well. Mom. Thank you for all your efforts in this area throughout the past many many years.”  Yibo says, his tone taking on an almost comically formal – rather than sarcastic – tone.

“It will no longer be needed.  Because I’m already married.”

He had not realized that he had grabbed the cup again and raised it up to his chest nervously until now when it clatters down into the sink, not breaking, but with enough clang to startle everyone.

                                                                             -------------

Chapter Text

He opens the tap to rinse his hands, the sound of the water flowing out deafening in his ears. 

When he turns around finally, he sees that Yibo and his mother are still staring at each other. 

Mrs. Wang laughs then.  Like a haha, you’re so funny kinda laugh.

Ziyi laughs too.  Although her laugh is the truly hilarious sort.  As if she knows that Yibo is joking.  But that sort of joke that has no way of being believable. 

And he feels sick inside. 

His gaze slips to his own mother, who is not looking at Yibo at all, but at him. 

He swallows and moves his gaze back to Yibo. 

Yibo is not looking this way at all, but still staring at Mrs. Wang, now raising an eyebrow. 

A moment later, Yibo pulls the necklace out from under his shirt and unclasps it to hold it up, the ring twirling with the motion, the gold glinting when the light catches it. 

He hears Yubin curse, and then apologize, while Ziyi makes a sort of gasping cough.

Yibo slides the ring off the chain and puts it on his ring finger before putting the chain back on his neck.

“Motherfu…” Ziyi starts and he hears Lulu slapping her hand before she finishes the rest.

“You’re kidding.”  Mrs. Wang says, all trace of humor gone from her face.

“I am not.”  Yibo answers, twisting the ring into place and looking back up to face his mother, his voice and face still calm.

He tries to calm the clenching in his belly as he watches the scene unfold.

“What?  When?  To whom?” Mrs. Wang asks, each question punctuated as if they are all occurring to her as she asks and she can’t wait for the answer before she stumbles to the next.

“I’m married.  I got married six months ago.”   Yibo answers.  And pointedly leaves out the last question.

“Six months??” Ziyi blurts out at the same time as Haikuan and Yubin and Mrs. Wang, their voices sounding oddly coordinated. 

“To whom?”  There is a clanging sound in his ears  now because it’s not Mrs. Wang who asks, but his own mother.

And he finally sees Yibo pause, the first sign of vulnerability appearing on that face, although he tries to hide it quickly enough.  And he hears Yibo start to say, “I’m not at lib…”

And he cuts in with, “Me.”

“What the fuck!” Yubin’s exclamation is loud and clear this time and there’s not even an apology afterwards.

He looks at Yibo and sees a kaleidoscope of expressions pass through that face… surprise, pain, helplessness, and a bit of hope… although before the latter blossoms into anything real, Yibo gives a slight shake of his head.

For all the storm that had swirled inside him for the last three days, in this moment, all he feels is free.  As if he had exhaled all the stress with that one utterance.

He gives a slight smile to Yibo before he turns in the direction of their mothers and pulls out his own chain with the ring hanging on it.

“Jezus, this is actually happening.”  Ziyi says next to him, and for a moment, he welcomes her uncensored thoughts to cut through the tension that he can feel pulsing out in waves from his mother.

He slides off the ring and wears it on his finger before putting the chain back around his neck, mimicking the moves of his husband.

“Oh My God.”  Mrs. Wang exclaims and he looks up, preparing for whatever is about to come his way.  He could handle it.  He could move to Korea now.  Hell, he would move anywhere Yibo was.  Because in the end, that’s all that mattered. 

“You’re gay?” Mrs. Wang asks, turning to face Yibo.

Okay, not the reaction that he had been expecting, but he follows her gaze to look at Yibo.

“But of course, when you came out with that story about wanting to date dudes, I should have figured out that it’s only because you wanted Zhan-Zhan.”  Ziyi has clearly recovered from her shock and thought it well and good to start releasing any and all thoughts that came into her head.

He sees Mrs. Wang’s head snap in Ziyi’s direction and sees Haikuan shaking his head. 

For once, Lulu is not swatting at Ziyi to stop. 

“Wait, when did that happen?”  Mrs. Wang asks Ziyi.

“Oh Lord, a long time ago now.  Like, months before the accident.”  Ziyi answers as if it’s perfectly alright to talk about Yibo in front of Yibo.

“Why don’t you ask me and leave her out of it?”  Yibo says to his mother, although once again there’s no venom in his voice for how it sounds.

“Yea, because you’ve proven to be so trustworthy so far.”  Mrs. Wang says with a brief side eye to Yibo before looking back in Ziyi’s direction.

“So, he was gay before the accident?” she asks.

“Do you have a problem with gay people?” Yibo asks, his voice finally rising.

“No!  And you don’t get to take issue with this with me!  Fuck, I’ve been trying to set you up with girls all this time when you haven’t even been interested in the entire sex.  What a fool you’ve made of me!”  Mrs. Wang’s voice sounds so hurt that Yibo’s expression changes entirely.

“It’s not like that mom…” he starts.

“Then how is it?  I just want you to be happy.  I don’t care who it’s with.  Well, obviously I care, but you’re like a… a… an unmoored boat without A’Zhan that I was always worried you wouldn’t let him live his own life.  Hell, if that was because you were in love with him, why didn’t you just tell me?”

Okay.  What now.

“What?”  Yibo asks, his expression of careful neutrality finally slipping off and now revealing just full-on disbelief.  “Since when have you been so open-minded?”

“Oh, come on! What age are we living in now?  What sort of a person do you think I am?”  Mrs. Wang asks as if Yibo has offended her to the core.

“And yet it never even occurred to you that I might be interested in men?”  Yibo asks, affronted himself and not letting her off that easily.

“Because you never told me you were!  Since when have you ever been anything other than clear as glass for me to guess that you were keeping such an enormous secret from me?”  she asks, her voice rising.

“Ok, frankly though Mrs. Wang, this boy has really never been into boys.  Well, other than Xiao Zhan.  So, I don’t think you missed much.   I mean, he really is very transparent that way.”  Ziyi pipes in, presumably to try to defuse the situation.

Yibo finally glares at her and Ziyi glares back, before asking, “What?  Were you ever interested in dating other men?  Hell, you met all of NCT-127 and still wasn’t tempted.  A normal gay man would’ve been all over that.  Hell, a normal homo sapien would’ve been all over that!   But you’re not a normal homo sapien, are you now Wang Yibo?  You’re just homo zhanzhan.”

Yubin busts out laughing.  Haikuan swats at him.  It dims the force of the laugh for a moment, but then he laughs again as if getting a second whiff of Ziyi’s tirade.

“How are you helping?”  Yibo asks Ziyi, eyes widening at her outburst.

“Dude, if I were not here to mediate, you would completely let your mother expire from palpitations with this bullshit!   I cannot even believe you both hid something so fucking big from all of us.  You think you’re the protagonists in some Shakespearean tragedy?  Like the world is against you and shit?  Is that what it was?  Have you even met us?  Any of us?  We grew up together asshole!  I cannot believe you fucking got married without telling any of us.  Okay, forget you!  I can see how you could be such an impulsive idiot.  But you, Zhan Zhan, how could you not tell us?”  Ziyi turns to him, and for all her blustering, he can tell that she is really upset. 

“Yibo wanted to tell everyone.  I was the one who stopped him.”  he tells her.  Might as well own up to everything while they were at it. 

“Why?”  Ziyi asks, although Yibo cuts in with, “Don’t grill him, seriously.”

“You don’t tell me what to do with him!” she turns to Yibo and puts her hand up.

“Fine!” Yibo exclaims in exasperation.

Ziyi turns back to him expectantly.  He looks at her, and then grabs her hand in his and murmurs “sorry” before turning to his mother-in-law.

He stares at her for a long moment, afraid to go to her but also not wanting to look away.  As he holds her gaze, her expression slowly turns into pain and then betrayal, and he thinks his heart literally breaks.

But before he can say anything else, his mother comes to him and takes his hand in hers.  “We’re going home now.” She pulls him along without giving him a chance to refuse.

He looks back over his shoulder at Mrs. Wang, who looks so hurt now, and he feels his eyes fill as he mouths, “I’ll come tomorrow.”

He prepares for her to not acknowledge what he says, but then he sees her small nod. 

His relief only lasts until he catches sight of his husband’s face.  Yibo is now ignoring him altogether.

He catches Lulu’s eyes then and gestures in Yibo’s direction and sees her nod.

And literally feels like he’s seven years old when his mother gives another pull on his hand to get him out of the room.

                                                                            xxxxxx

Chapter Text

His mother remains quiet all through the ride home, which is admittedly a very short one, given how close their homes are to each other.  Walking distance really.  The only reason they had even taken the car is because of all the food that she had taken over. 

His father does not dare ask any questions, sensing the tenseness in the car.

When they get home, his mother says nothing much, pouring a glass of water for his father to give him his heart medication before sending him off to bed.  His father does shoot a glance in his direction, an eyebrow raised, and he manages to give a slight smile of reassurance.  His father smiles back and shoots a quick look in his mother’s direction before climbing the stairs to their bedroom. 

He stands by the kitchen island waiting his mother out as she fiddles with something on the opposite counter, her back to him.

He tries to breathe in and out slowly as he prepares for whatever is about to come his way.

He remembers her tears from the hospital and all their walks in the misty mornings at the Clouds and all the times they had cooked together there.  And for a moment, he can almost imagine what she is struggling with as she collects her emotions into some semblance of order that she can articulate to him without alienating him.

“You can say whatever you want to say, ma.  I can handle it.  Don’t hold back.”

Instead of saying anything though, after a moment, he sees her shoulders tremble. 

He had not expected that and is by her side before he even knows that he has moved, turning her back around and hugging her to his chest.

For a moment, she tries to hold back, for his sake he’s sure, but then she lets go and holds him tight, and soundlessly drenches his shirt with tears.

It takes him a while to realize that there are tears running down his face too, dripping onto her hair.  And he quickly brushes them away. 

“I’m so afraid that you love him a little too much, A’Zhan.”  she whispers into his chest after a while.  “And I don’t know if it’s the kind of love you’re strong enough to handle.”

Before he can answer, they hear the handle of the outside door by the kitchen turn.

His heart is in his throat when he turns to see the door open and Yibo walk in.

His mother moves out of his hold to turn in Yibo’s direction, surprise evident on her face.

Yibo doesn’t even look in his direction, eyes trained only on his mother.

He swallows hard as he watches the two of them stare at each other.

Then Yibo walks toward them, rounding the corner of the island, still keeping his eyes on his mother.

Xiao Zhan holds his breath.  On that same breath, he tells his heart to buck up and be strong so that no one would ever have reason to doubt whether he can handle loving his husband.

Whatever he is prepared for, he is still not ready when Yibo pauses in front of his mother for only an instant before sinking down to his knees.

He gasps and even his mother looks shocked at Yibo’s bent head.

“I’m sorry.”  He hears Yibo’s whisper after a long moment. 

“What for?”  His mother asks.

“For getting married without your blessing.”  Yibo answers, his voice soft and deep.

“Baby…” he calls without thinking.

And sees his mother’s eyes close. 

Yibo still doesn’t look at him, but keeps his head bent.  Although he now says, “I’ll do whatever you want.”

He swallows hard as he looks back at his mom.

There is a long pregnant pause before she asks, “Where did you do it?”

Yibo looks up at that finally, his eyes questioning.

“Get married.  You couldn’t have done it here.”

“New Zealand.”  Yibo answers.

His mother shakes her head, releasing a pent-up breath.

“How could you do that to us?  We only have you both!”  she says now, her voice an exasperated sigh of frustration.

For a moment, he is not sure he heard her properly.

Did she just skip over the turmoil and resistance?

“I can’t hold onto him otherwise.  He’ll let me go at the drop of a hat.”  Yibo answers as if her question had required a real answer.

His eyes widen as he looks back down at Yibo.

Yibo still doesn’t look his way, but keeps his gaze trained on his mother.  Who pffs and shakes her head as if this is the most asinine thing she’s ever heard.  “This is Xiao Zhan we’re talking about?  How could he ever leave you?  He would rather cut off his writing hand.”

And he closes his eyes as he takes that in. 

“I didn’t say he would leave me.  I said he would let me go.”  Yibo answers.  

And he opens his eyes to look into the face that is the most beloved to him.  Would be the most beloved to him even if he were to be reborn a thousand years.

“Ah…” his mother says, understanding.  She finally looks over at him and says, “At least he knows you well.”

He doesn’t know what to say. 

She doesn’t expect an answer though because she looks back down at Yibo. 

They stare at each other for another long moment before she says, in a voice that’ll brook no resistance, “I’m going to bed now.  I suggest you take another day off if you want to deal with this properly.”

“He can’t…” he starts, although Yibo interrupts readily with, “I will.”

His mother nods then and walks out of the kitchen without looking back at either of them.

By the time he looks back, Yibo is standing back up and starting to walk away. 

He follows behind and grabs Yibo’s wrist, but Yibo shakes it off without even looking back at him.

He waits until Yibo is out of the door before pulling him back towards him, backing them both against the side of the house.

Yibo tries to shake him off again, although he doesn’t relent and pulls him back.

This time, Yibo doesn’t push away, although he stares off to the side, even when he presses his hand against Yibo’s chin to turn his face to him.

“I’m sorry.” he whispers.  “Being drunk is not an excuse.  Neither is being jealous.  So, I’m sorry.”

“I hate you.”  Yibo says finally, looking at him.

“I know.”  he whispers, pulling Yibo closer against his body.

“Do you though?”  Yibo asks.

He nods.  “I love you.” he says, pulling Yibo in flush against him.

He can feel Yibo hold himself entirely still, although he can feel the hardness starting against the inside of his thigh.

He rubs against it unconsciously and Yibo groans and drops his head against his shoulder.

“Fuck you, Xiao Zhan…”  he says even as his fingers dig into his hips.

“I want you to.” he pulls Yibo even closer to whisper in his ear.

Yibo goes quiet at that and then holds his hips still.  After a moment, Yibo speaks again, his voice barely audible.  “You hurt me.”

He feels that like a flare in his chest and pulls back to look at Yibo.

And Yibo adds, “Imagine if you found me in someone’s arms.  And then the same night, I hugged them knowing that they want me pretty bad.” 

“Yibo…” he starts, alarmed at Yibo’s views of his actions.  Which hadn’t struck him in quite that way until he hears it now.  His head had been too full of Yibo to even properly grasp the gravity of whatever else the hell he had been doing.

“How could you do that to me?”  Yibo asks, his expression now changing into one of blatant pain.

“I…” there’s really no excuse or apology that would be enough.  It didn’t matter what he had felt like inside at the time.

“Do it back to me then.”  he says, not really thinking that through, but wanting to take the pain away.

“You want me to hug someone?  have them hold me close?”  Yibo asks, his expression changing to shock.

He shakes his head immediately, even though that was what he had just asked, but instead says, “Hurt me back.”

“How?” Yibo asks, as if this question genuinely did not have an answer.

His eyes change just like that at how surprised Yibo seems at the notion and he rubs against him unthinkingly again.

“Hurt me.”  he whispers, pulling Yibo closer, letting him feel how turned on he is.  Not just from his hard-on, but from his eyes, and his lips, and his skin, and in the very way in which he breathes.

Even in the dark, he can see Yibo’s pupils dilate as his lips part and his breathing changes.

And then Yibo’s mouth is on him hard, his hands gripping his waist, and his erection pressing in mercilessly.

He moans out loud when Yibo’s teeth sink into his neck, biting rather than nipping.  Even the sucking, he knows, is going to leave a massive hickey.  He didn’t care. He wanted to be marked up everywhere by his husband.  And own it like his right.

Yibo’s hands are under his shirt now, hard and warm and running along his back. 

He whimpers as his hips roll even more and he whispers, “I need you…”

That seems to make Yibo crazy because Yibo’s hands are now on his ass, pushing their cocks against each other to rub harder.

“I need you inside, baby…” he says, wishing he had some lube on him.  He didn’t care about being taken against the house, in the dark outside.  He didn’t care about anything really in the moment other than Yibo.

“No.”  Yibo answers in a low growl.

The words don’t penetrate his head until Yibo pulls back and then there are literally countless moments of confusion before awareness returns.

When Yibo starts to pull away, he pulls him back.  “I said hurt me.  Not hurt me and hurt you in the process.”  He can still feel how hard Yibo is against his leg.

“Isn’t it all the same?”  Yibo asks.  “How can I hurt you without hurting myself too?”

And with that, Yibo pulls back from him and walks away. 

                                                                               xxxxxxxxx

Chapter Text

He goes back inside the house to leave a note for his parents, letting them know where he is.  He takes a shower too, changing out of the clothes from the party that he’s convinced now smells like scotch, which is no longer a pleasant memory.

And then he walks over to Yibo’s house.  Unlike his mother, Yibo’s mother does not leave the back entrance unlocked.  When he calls Yibo’s phone, there’s no answer.  He texts him to let him know that he’s outside and waits by the back door.  When a half hour goes by and there’s still no reply, he decides that Yibo has likely fallen asleep.  He couldn’t very well wait here all night, god forbid some neighbor saw him and called the cops, and so he starts to walk back.  At the end of the driveway, he looks back towards Yibo’s room upstairs.  That’s when he sees Yibo standing there, by the window, staring at him.  He stops walking, too stunned to move.  And then turns around and starts walking again, now not turning back.   He had not even considered that Yibo would purposely not open the door for him.

He tries to tell himself that Yibo’s more than justified in doing so.  He likely deserved to be shut out for a few days at least, but it doesn’t penetrate that part of his brain that is too dazed for words that Yibo had purposely not let him in.  Had just shut him out like that.

When he gets back home, he goes to the bathroom to wash his face and stands there afterwards for a long time, staring at himself in the mirror.  There were certain things from Yibo, he was coming to realize, that he couldn’t tolerate.  Yibo withdrawing from him was one of them.  In fact, Yibo withdrawing from him was all of it.  It was the only thing.  Nothing else hurt like it.  Everything else, he could deal with, some with more effort than others.  But Yibo pulling back from him, maybe because it’s so unfamiliar in all of their life, he has no experience in how to handle it properly.  He closes his eyes as he tries to think of how to learn to deal with it without panicking and backing off completely like he wants to.  But then again, he thinks that he would do that with anyone.  He was constitutionally incapable of pushing himself on people. He was just not made that way.  And so, if they withdrew from him, he allowed them to do so.  That was their right.  He wouldn’t go out of his way to try to prove his worth to anyone.  There was no need. 

Yibo had never been that kind of a person before.  And now that it turns that that Yibo is… he pushes the heels of his palms into his eyes, rubbing at them. 

He would learn to deal. 

He has to.

He changes into his pajamas and goes back to his bedroom, closing the door and locking it before turning towards the bed.

And startles in surprise when he sees Yibo by the window.

He backs against the door he had just locked, hands crossed behind his back. 

He is stubborn, he realizes in that moment.

He cannot change this part of himself, even for Yibo.

Any guilt that he had felt about Yizhou is no longer there.   With that one action earlier in the night, Yibo had wiped their slate clean.   Yibo may not think so.  But he did. 

He no longer makes the effort to go to Yibo’s side.

But waits Yibo out from this end to see what he has to say.

“Are you mad at me?” Yibo asks.

He shrugs.  “You should do what you want.  If that was how you wanted to punish me, so be it.”

“I thought you wanted me to hurt you.”  Yibo says, lifting an eyebrow.

He nods.  “Mission accomplished then.”  Indeed. 

“You think I went overboard, don’t you?”  Yibo asks.

He shakes his head.  “This is a far more effective way of hurting me than how I suggested you do it, so I guess you do know me very well.”

“And now you’re as pissed off as I am.” 

He shrugs.  “It is what it is.”

“You’re not interested in making up anymore.”   Yibo says.

He shakes his head.

“You’re so stubborn.  How come you can do whatever bullshit you want, but if I do something that’s even halfway shitty, you punish me way worse?”

“Since when have I ever punished you?”  he asks, narrowing his eyes.

“Earlier this night, with that guy…” Yibo starts.

“He has nothing to do with anything, and you know it!  Nowhere in this discussion do I hear why you didn’t call me for three days.”

“Why didn’t you call me?” Yibo asks.

“And if I didn’t… were you just going to wait me out until I did?”

“That’s not really an option with you now, is it?  If I didn’t call you, you wouldn’t call me either.  Ever.”

“That’s the way I am, Yibo.  That’s how I’ve been all my life.”

“Why is it okay when you do it, but not when I do it?” 

“Because that’s just not you.  We are not the same personality.  I have weaknesses that are your strengths.  And you have weaknesses that are my strengths.  If we both dive in the same weakness, we’re fucked.”

“So only you’re allowed to be upset in our relationship?  And I’m not?”

“You can be upset all you want.  Hell, this is not the first time we’ve fought in all our life.  We’ve fought many a time.  We survive them all intact because we don’t use each other’s weakness to make a point.” 

Yibo goes quiet.

“Yibo, if I feel you pull back from me, I can’t handle it at all.  I can handle anything else.  But that’s the one thing that will just kill us.  If you pull back, I’ll let you go.  That’s not my insecurity.  It’s just my personality.”

“When did I pull back from you?”  Yibo asks, upset now.

“Fuck, you didn’t talk to me for three days!  What the fuck would you call that?”

“Silent treatment.” 

“You remember how it worked out the last time we tried that?” he asks.

“Yes, I do actually.  You didn’t talk to me for ten days.” 

“I sent you 53 texts!”

“But you didn’t come over!”

“I came over today and you didn’t let me in!”

“Because I found you in the arms of another dude! what the absolute fuck!”

“Because you were chatting up with a girl that you knew your mother was trying to set you up with, dressed like you wandered off an idol shoot, after you had texted every one of our friends asking where they were without saying jack to me, after I had helped your mother cook the shit that was being served to your dear wife-to-be!  So, I broke into your father’s blue label and imbibed a bit too much to forget the fact that my drop-dead gorgeous husband was somewhere in the house not even looking to see where I had disappeared to!”

“Fuck you!  I knew where you were at all times!”

“Oh, so then you knew when Yizhou came into the library to find me.”

“No, that fucker sneaked in when I was entertaining his sister, thinking that she was actually interested in auditioning for SM!”

That catches him off-guard.  “Say what?” he asks.

“Yes!  What else did you think we were talking about all that time?  As if I would have the energy to spend so much time on someone I just met!”

“Wait, who told you that she wanted to audition for SM?” he asks.

“My mom!  Clearly, she thought I wouldn’t give the girl any time of day or even notice her to come up with such a plausible story for me to have a conversation.”

It sort of takes the wind out of his sails.  He hadn’t even realized that it had bothered him so much that Yibo had seemed to genuinely be engaged in conversation with Yizhou’s sister, as if they had had some sort of instant connection.

“So, just because you thought I was talking to a girl…” Yibo starts.

He knows where this is going, so he interrupts with, “Dressed like you came to kill…”

“Fuck yea, I wanted you to look at me and lose your shit… pull me into a bathroom and beg me to fuck you!”

“What?” he asks, drawing back.

“Who the fuck else would I dress up like that for!  Only fucking you!”

Yibo’s voice rises now and he is on him in the next instant, slapping a hand over his mouth before he wakes up his parents.

Yibo slips an arm around his waist and drags him close, pulling them both back against the window sill.

“No, the sex offer has expired.”  He says, pulling back a little, although he doesn’t do anything to get out of Yibo’s hold.

“The sex offer never expires.”  Yibo says, his voice turning husky now that they were touching.

He raises an eyebrow. 

“Are you going to run into the arms of that ham every time you think I look good enough to eat and you’re pissed off at me?”  Yibo asks, an eyebrow raised himself.

“It depends on how pissed I am.  And how much Blue Label is available.”  he replies without missing a beat.

Yibo’s smirk disappears.  “That’s not funny.”

“I’m glad you don’t think so.” he answers.

“Didn’t you tell him that you’re mine?”  Yibo asks now, comically serious.

“I think he figured that out the first time I broke up with him.”

“So, then what happened?  He forgot?  He got amnesia too?”

“No, he thinks you forgot.  All about me.  You can’t really blame him.  He did after all think that they were trying to set up his sister with you.”

“Damn, he must want you real bad to be okay with them trying to set up his sister with his arch-nemesis.”

“Okay, calm down, I really don’t think you’re his arch-nemesis.”

“Fuck, yes I am.  I saw how he looked at you.  He wanted to slice off my dick, for sure.”

“As if that’s what I like about you.”

Yibo pulls back to look at him with narrowed eyes.  “You love my dick.”

“I do.  But I’ll take you even without the dick.”  he scoffs.

Yibo smirks and then wiggles an eyebrow to say, “We can make do with just your dick.”

That makes him laugh, and it’s the sort that Yibo must like because Yibo’s expression changes then, turning softer.  Yibo brings a finger up and touches the side of his lower lip gently as he says, “The touching and all, I knew that was all him.  You were so clearly unsteady on your feet and he just wanted to use that excuse to hold you.  And that last hug was just a pity hug.  But when you smiled at him…”

Yibo trails off without finishing, lifting his gaze from his lips to his eye

“Because she was standing right next to you.  And you didn’t even seem to care.  This girl practically hanging by your side the whole night.”

“Yea, only because I wanted you to seethe with jealousy the way I was, watching that tree trunk treat you like you were his.”

“You are so juvenile.”  he says, shaking his head.  “And don’t make me sound like some buxom maiden in a bodice-ripper.”

“Well, you’re neither a maiden nor buxom.”  Yibo offers matter-of-factly.

“Thank you…”

“But you really are the prettiest of anyone I’ve ever seen.”  It would sound corny if not for the fact that Yibo’s voice goes deep and soft all at the same time.

“You’re biased.”  He answers, just as softly.

“Please. I believe Ziyi’s exact words were, “No one’s as pretty as Zhan-Zhan…”

“Ziyi is biased too.”  he says, smiling.

“Hmm… everyone who’s ever met you then is biased.” 

Yibo’s eyes are hooded now, his voice velvet, and Xiao Zhan leans in, putting his arms around his neck.

His voice is husky when he asks, “Did you really want me to pull you into a bathroom and beg you to fuck me?”

Yibo nods.  “That one with the washer and dryer.  There was a load in there that I could have run to mask all the sounds you make.”

Yibo’s hands are already under his shirt, stroking down the muscles along his back. 

He reaches inside Yibo’s sweatpants to feel the cock there that’s already half-hard.

“I wanted you to fuck me earlier, against the side of the house.  Fuck me hard.  Your fingers and teeth leaving marks on my shoulders and neck.  That’s how insane you made me with what did you in the kitchen.”  he whispers.

In answer, Yibo lifts his shirt to lightly tongue a nipple.

“Baby…” his voice turns husky, his head falling back as Yibo pulls the nub in between his lips to roll it against his tongue.

Those noises Yibo had talked about before are definitely coming out now, and Yibo leaves his nipple to kiss him so his parents won’t hear.

By the time they pull back, he’s panting out little breaths and he puts his forehead against Yibo’s.  “I’m too horny to hold back.  You’ll have to gag me before you fuck me.”

Yibo tightens his hold around his waist and pulls them down to the bed, pulling the covers over their heads.

“Gag you?  Those little sounds drive me crazy.”

“You want my parents to hear me come?” 

Yibo rolls him onto his belly and covers him from the back and he is pressed down into bed.  He sighs in contentment.  He loves it when Yibo does this, wrap him in his heat and weight from every side until he could barely breathe.  Strangely, then he did breathe more easily.

“Maybe bite the edge of your pillow…” Yibo says in a husky whisper, just before biting the edge of his earlobe, making him giggle and moan at the same time.

He grabs the lube from under his pillow and passes it to Yibo.

Yibo waits until he preps him with his fingers and then sliding in with his cock and bottoming out before he asks, “Were you hoping I would sneak into your bedroom?  Is that why it was under the pillow?”

“You did sort of promise…” he says, sighing when he feels how hard and full Yibo is inside him.

“I came, you know.”  Yibo says.

It takes a moment for that to get through the sex haze in his head.  And then he opens his eyes and turns in profile to look at Yibo.

“You did?” 

“Hmm… You had already fallen asleep.  So, I went back.”

“Liar, I was awake until almost 2.”

“I came at 3.”

“What?  That’s so late.”  he says, looking back again.

“Yea, because I kept on waiting like an idiot to see if you would call or text.”

He stops and taps Yibo until he pulls out and moves off. Then he turns around until he is facing Yibo and pulls him back on top, guiding him back inside.

He holds Yibo’s gaze for a long moment before putting his arms around his neck to pull him close.  “Don’t go for that long without talking to me… I really can’t take it.  You might as well tear my heart to pieces.”

Yibo sinks down against him, grabbing him tight.  “I get so depressed each time I leave you… Or when you leave me… that last time I came back, I swear I could literally smell your sex on me for a whole day.  I didn’t know if it was real or if I just missed you so much.  It’s been months and months of this whiplash.  I just wanted you to feel it too… what it feels like to have you and then not have you for weeks and weeks.”

He tilts his hips up a bit and Yibo pulls back up so that they can look at each other again.

“I want to sleep with you every night.  Just sleep with you.  With your smell and your touch.  So, I’ve been thinking…”

He knows what Yibo is going to say before he says it, and so he cuts in instead, “I want to move to Korea.”

Yibo shakes his head, thinking that this is just the 45^th iteration of the same back and forth that they’ve had so many times, but he clutches Yibo’s ass, which gets his attention back.

“I really want to move to Korea.  I want to live with you.  I didn’t realize what had been truly holding me back was the fact that we had told no one about it.  But now that everyone knows, it’s sort of freeing.  We should start living together.”

Yibo watches him for another moment to see if he’s really being serious, and then there is a new light in his eyes as he asks, “Are you serious?”

He nods, smiling.

“Really?  Absolutely sure?” 

He rolls his eyes, although he’s still smiling.

“Okay then come back with me when I go back.”

“What? What about all my stuff?”

“We can come back and pack it together next weekend.”

“Are you for real?”  he asks, but Yibo bends down to kiss him to cut him off.  Halfway through the kiss, he starts to move slowly, building up the rhythm, the kiss turning into sucking on his lower lip. 

He can feel the energy change in Yibo’s body, some sort of frenetic and excitable swoop of it making his whole body move as he slides into him, hooking at the end, rubbing against just that spot that makes him start to gasp and then whine in that needy way of his when Yibo drove him crazy like this.

“I love you so much baby…” Yibo’s voice is deep in his ear just moments before he comes.  He wraps his legs around Yibo tightly, clutching him close, and bites into the edge of the pillow next to him so he won’t scream.

                                                                         xxxxxxxxx

Chapter Text

It starts drizzling in the wee hours of the morning.  He feels suspended between slumber and dreams, although in reality, it’s neither, but wakefulness, Yibo’s eyes drinking him in, leaning so close that he can count his eyelashes.  He brings a finger up to touch their fullness.  Yibo doesn’t blink, still watching him.  His finger moves up to Yibo’s eyebrow and gently follows its arch. 

And now Yibo’s eyelashes do sweep down.  His hand combs up into Yibo’s hair and Yibo’s head tilts slightly, giving him better access.

“Sleep, baby…” he whispers.  “You couldn’t have slept well the past three days…”

“So, you know.”  Yibo answers.

When he doesn’t reply, Yibo’s eyes open.

“Did you sleep well?”  Yibo asks.

He shakes his head.

“And you still wouldn’t call or text me.”

He turns away then, sideways on the pillow, and Yibo scoots in behind him, spooning him from the back, pulling him back to fit them against each other in every groove that fits so that no space remains.

He feels Yibo’s breath against the side of his neck and then it’s his lips, pressing gently, halfway between a kiss and a sniff.

“And if I had gone back to Korea without making up?”  Yibo asks.

“You wouldn’t have.”  he answers, surprising himself.  He reminds himself that not even ten hours ago, he had been prepared to go to New Zealand to dissolve their marriage.  Which seems the height of crazy in hindsight.  But he did dissolve into some catastrophic thinking when it came to Yibo.

He feels Yibo raise his head up a little bit to look at his profile and he turns back slightly.

“It wasn’t even a big fight, whatever it was that we fought about.  Certainly not enough to merit a three-day silent treatment.” he says.

Yibo looks at him for another long moment and then pulls him back before they are once again facing each other.

“Honestly?  I wanted to see if I had somehow gained this power magically through marriage.”  is Yibo’s answer.

“What power?”  he asks, drawing back a bit so he can really take in all of Yibo’s face. 

“The power to give you a silent treatment.  And to not have you think it’s our end.”

His lashes sweep down for a moment, hiding his eyes – the truth a bit jarring – before they sweep back up, lest Yibo notice.

But of course, Yibo notices.  Because even when there is evidence to the contrary, there is not much about him that Yibo misses.

“You just wanted to test your power to torture me?”  he asks, knowing he’s stretching a bit.  But likely not by much.   Pleasure and Pain were just two sides of the same coin.

“What torture?  You would have exited that torture immediately.  If this evening hadn’t gone the way that it did, some planned and some entirely at the mercy of circumstance, then you would have done nothing from your end.  You would wait until I’m back in Korea.  And then if I continued to keep it up, it would only be a matter of time before you sent a divorce notice.”

He starts to turn away, but Yibo pulls him back.

“See… I’m right, aren’t I? You’d rather divorce me than try to make up with me.”

“Yibo, if you can carry on that long without talking to me, then there’s a bigger problem than who has to make-up first.”  he says, allowing Yibo to turn him back.

“Why?  Why can’t I want to know that you will occasionally – very very occasionally – indulge me by trying to make-up first?” 

He huffs out a breath. “I indulge you in so many other ways, why can’t you let me have that one?”

Yibo holds his gaze now, his gaze just watchful, before he says, “When you can let me go that easily, isn’t it basically you admitting that you cannot demand my attention?  It’s either somehow you don’t think I’m worth the fight – which is obviously not true – or you just don’t think you have the right to put up a fight for me.”

“Why do I have to fight for you?  Aren’t you mine to begin with?”  He asks, his lips turning into an unconscious pout.

And Yibo smiles, touching his lower lip.  “See, this!  Sometimes I just want to see this.”

“What?”  he asks, looking up.

“You wanting me like this.  In the way a child wants something.  Like you’ll pout and throw a fit if you don’t get it.”

He watches the boyish tilt to Yibo face; he could turn on the adorable with hardly any effort.

Before he can say anything though, Yibo’s face turns again and he says, “But the way you show your love for me, baby, is by letting me go and letting yourself go too.”  Yibo’s finger now rubs at the edge of his left eye slightly, as if absently wiping away the tears that had made tracks there over so many months.

“You just… slowly diffuse into thin air in your grief.  When all you have to do is say, “Wang Yibo, You Come Back Here!””

He bites down on his lower lip.  And then asks, “That’s all?  Just, Wang Yibo, you come back here?”

Yibo nods.  “Just that.  And I’ll come back even from the dead.”

He closes his eyes at the last part and Yibo swoops down, grabbing him around his waist and raising him until Yibo’s head is buried into his neck.  “Too soon for back from the dead jokes?”

“It’ll always be too soon, asshole!” he answers.  Although his arms go around Yibo regardless.

When they hold each other like that, he finally admits, “I did think of divorce.”

Yibo goes still in his hold, but doesn’t pull away or move otherwise.

“But Yibo, I think some people are just like that.  A fight happens and their basic reaction is I won’t bind you to me.  You’re free to go.  And baby, so much of your life is away from me now.  And you know, in my mind, I’m a control fanatic.  It’s easier to think of letting go of things I can’t manage rather than figure out an alternative.”

Yibo hugs him tighter.  And then raises his head a bit so that he can be heard and says, “I was going to kidnap you to Korea anyways.  The Clouds was a good place of recovery.  And you’re recovered to the extent that is possible alone and away from all your loved ones.  So, it’s only a matter of time before you either move back home or… come with me.”

Yibo pulls back at that, and there’s a bit of a hopeful look in his eyes, although it’s also tempered with, “But in the event that you didn’t want to, I was going to give SM my notice.”

“Stop!”  he says.

Yibo raises an eyebrow as if to say, You think I wouldn’t?

“Oyy! this is what I’m saying!  You can’t make such an enormous decision about your life without consulting with your husband!”  he smacks Yibo on the shoulder.

“I know!”  Yibo says back in frustration, dropping his head against Xiao Zhan’s shoulder.  “I know.  And I tell you everything really… except…”

“Except the things that you think will hurt me or put me in a quandary or make me anxious or…”

Yibo sighs and grabs his face between his fingers.

“But you won’t let me do anything that you think is not in my best interest.”  Yibo answers.

“Well yea!” he answers.

“When my best interest really starts with living with the dude I pledged my life to, in sickness and in health, in good times or bad, for better or for worse, and all that jazz.  Did you forget all of our vows already?” 

“You’re so ridiculous.”  he smiles, pushing at Yibo’s shoulder.

Yibo catches that wrist though and is no longer smiling when he says, “I’ve spent all my life with you.  To put it a bit more selfishly, I’m much better as a whole when I’m with you.  So, whatever it is that I want to do with my life, wherever it is I want to live, all of that shit is pretty moot if you’re not there.” 

Yibo presses a kiss into the palm of the hand he’s holding. 

He pulls Yibo closer then, moving until Yibo is fully on top of him and he can spread his legs until Yibo is nestled in between.

They’re both still naked and he runs his hands down Yibo’s back to feel the strength of those muscles as they ripple slightly under his light touch.

“I want to live with you too…” he whispers in Yibo’s ear.  “And be wherever you are.   Because sometimes I really do feel like you hold almost all of my soul.”

“I do.” Yibo answers just before he kisses him.

When he pulls back, Yibo looks into his eyes and says, “I’ve seen how these eyes look when I’ve been gone.” There is a pause before Yibo lowers his voice, as if sharing a secret, “You know I’m your everything…”

He doesn’t even think it’s all that much of an exaggeration.  It’s likely why his mother reacted the way that she did.

“Everything…” he agrees with a moan when he feels Yibo’s fingers by his entrance.

“Tell me you love me…” Yibo says as one finger slips in.

It slides all the way in and his voice hitches a bit when he says, “I love you.”

“Again.” Yibo adds another finger, twisting them a little.

His tongue touches his upper lip and his eyes scrunch shut at the sensation.  He feels Yibo’s tongue touch his own to give a soft lick before he says, “Again.”

He focuses, barely, and says, “I love you.”

He waits to see if the next one will be one more finger or…

Yibo’s cock pushes in now in answer and his head falls back, digging into the pillow, as the fullness that he craves so much fills him once more.

He can hear Yibo groan into his throat and this time, without any prompting, he whispers, “I love you.”

                                                                                xxxxxx

Xiao Zhan's eyes that Yibo is referring to (because I saw this picture and it. got. into. my. entire. being.):

Chapter Text

The alarm beeps in his ear far too soon and he reaches around for its source, unsure if it’s real or just an aberration to disturb the best sleep he’s had in ages.  It’s gone as abruptly as it started and then he feels a soft warmth against his temple and a whispered, “Go back to sleep…” and it feels so like the heat from the hearth on a cold winter night that he snuggles deeper into the covers and does just that.

The next time he wakes up, it’s without the alarm.  He is alone on the bed and it makes him startled enough to look at the clock.  6:00.   Yibo must have gone home, not wanting to wake him, and not wanting to risk getting caught by his parents.  He puts his head back down, sighing, and lays there for another ten minutes thinking of the day ahead.  He wants to get some time alone with Yibo’s mother. He wonders how he could arrange for that realistically when she likely wanted nothing to do with him at the moment, not to mention, she likely wanted to spend the remaining time with Yibo until his return flight the next day.

When his thoughts go nowhere in the direction of a plan, he thinks of making some coffee and heads downstairs to the kitchen.   He hears the murmurs from the kitchen long before he reaches there and then can’t help himself as he approaches as quietly as possible to listen.  It’s clear that the murmurs are between his mother and his husband.

He tells himself to take a few deep breaths and not get overexcited.  He is hopeful that his mother is in a forgiving mood.  Even if she isn’t, Yibo would be able to take her anger and keep a calm front.  For Xiao Zhan’s sake, he would.  He trusts him on that.

But still, he is who he is.   And so, his heart is lodged in his throat as he listens.

“Are you… like Xiao Zhan then?”  his mother asks.  He squeezes his eyes shut.  There was nowhere good that question could lead to.

“What does that mean?”  Yibo asks.

He trains his ear and can sense the slight hesitation in his mother before she clarifies, “Attracted to men and women?”

Yibo, however, has no hesitation when he returns with, “To be honest, I don’t really remember everything from the year before the accident to give you a full answer to that.  I have some recollections of very specific memories, but they all have to do with Xiao Zhan.  I haven’t really talked to any of the others at any real length about what exactly happened when I… evidently decided to date men and women.  But… from what I’ve gathered from Xiao Zhan…”

“It’s just him, then?”  His mother asks.

Yibo must nod because he doesn’t hear a verbal answer.

There’s a long pause before his mother asks, “It doesn’t bother you?”

“What doesn’t bother me?”  Yibo asks.

Another long moment of silence.  And then, as if she decides to just go for it, “That you are attracted to men?”

He hears Yibo laugh.  It’s a short one.  Unintentional and reflexive. As if he genuinely found the notion comical.

“Why would it bother me?”  he asks a moment later, collecting himself. 

He can almost see his mother shrug at that in his mind’s eye, although he doesn’t dare look around the wall into the kitchen to see.

Before she can say anything else though, Yibo speaks again.   “To be honest, Mrs. Xiao, in all my life, he’s the only one I have ever been in love with.  Honest to God.  No one else’s even come close.  You must know that though, given how well you know me and him.”

There is a silence that greets that proclamation, and he can almost imagine his mother leaning back against the counter in acknowledgement of this… fact of life.

“What changed then?  How… did this even happen?”  His mother asks.

Ah, yes, the 84,000-yuan question that he was sure the rest of them all wanted to know about.

“He told me that he was pan.”  Yibo answers, as if that explained everything.

There is another silence, but it is one where his mother is merely waiting for Yibo to go on, and when he doesn’t, she asks, “And?”

Yibo laughs, this one a bit nervous.  “I… uh… didn’t know it was an option.”

“What?”  His mother asks, not understanding.

Yibo takes a deep breath, as if wanting to explain this properly, before he says, “He didn’t tell me that until last year.”

This time the silence stretches out enough that he gets knots in his stomach and he has to squeeze his hands together so that he won’t peer around the wall.

Just when he is about to throw caution to the wind and do just that, his mother asks, “That’s it?”

“Mn.”  He hears and pictures Yibo nodding matter-of-factly.   And his belly squeezes tight for an entirely different reason.  Only Yibo can make his nerves simultaneously overfire from anxiety and love.

His mother huffs out a laugh, surprising him.

Then, as if deciding yes, that’s indeed the reaction that was appropriate, she laughs some more. 

The laughing continues, in the way of, Of Course.  Why the Fuck wouldn’t it be this fucking simple?

Yibo lets her laugh it out, not joining in, because… obviously.

Her laughing ends with a bite of, This is so ludicrous that I have no other reaction, and she confirms it by asking, “You mean to tell me, all this time, the only thing that stopped you from discovering you were gay was just that you didn’t know Zhan-Zhan was gay too?”

This time, he hears Yibo’s little chuckle, a slightly awkward tinge to it, before he answers, “To be fair, I’m not sure I would really be gay for anyone else.  Speaking strictly from a… technical standpoint.   In all the years in my memory, I don’t ever remember being attracted to other men. Now, it’s possible that maybe I just didn’t give that a chance, because… I mean, why would I if Xiao Zhan wasn’t really an option?”

What.  That made not a lick of sense to him.  Yibo’s reasoning on this subject has never made any sense to him.  And he thinks it likely never will.  He always has to bite his tongue to keep from saying, “That’s not how it works.” But he allows that even in gender and sexual preferences, there are individual variations that are unique.  Yibo’s more unique than most, maybe.

He expects his mother to counter Yibo’s twisted logic, but she does not.

Instead, all she says is, her voice finally soft, “You really do love him in just that crazy way that he loves you, don’t you?”

Xiao Zhan turns his back flat against the wall and presses his palm against his belly. 

“Is that scary for you?  How he loves me?”  Yibo asks, his voice gentle too.

He hears his mother sigh a little.  “It’s been weird watching you both grow up.  For a long time, Lili and I were just thrilled that our children were best friends just like we were.  And the rest of your friends were there too, so even though you were both quite close, it was always this group.   And we loved that.  How close you all were and how you managed to remain close through school and college and even after, never drifting apart.  When Xiao Zhan came out to me in college, there had been a passing thought in my head, how it was for him to be best friends with you, you know.  But then, he was dating someone else, and my mind was at ease.  He knew his boundaries and I trusted him to know his heart.  But then after college, he started writing and then eventually moved out to get that apartment of his, and even with all your playful ways, especially with girls, when you started to spend more and more time with him…”

She pauses now and he makes his hand into a fist and digs it a little into his belly to calm the riot there.

“Despite the best of boundaries, and no matter how steadfast my son is in knowing how to stay within them… eh, you’re a little too potent, Yibo.  I thought if you didn’t give him some space, he wouldn’t even be able to help himself.”

There is a brief stretch of silence, although because Yibo doesn’t fill it in with anything, his mother speaks again.  “I knew it was bothering your mother too, but it was not something we could both actually talk about.  Firstly, Xiao Zhan hadn’t expressed an interest in openly coming out to anyone else, so it wasn’t like your mother even knew.   But maybe she did know, a little…  Because yesterday, she asked you if you were gay, but didn’t seem all that surprised to find out that Xiao Zhan was gay as well.”

He… hadn’t thought of that.

“Even if she was surprised, I think she was probably gobsmacked by the fact that her son was too, and secondly, I doubt that she is tactless enough to express her surprise so openly in front of everyone.”

He smiles a little when he hears Yibo defend his mother.  Although, he doubts there is a need to do so in this instance.

“Yes, you’re right.  Maybe.”  His mother allows.  “If she really did think so, she wouldn’t have so automatically assumed that Xiao Zhan had a girlfriend back in the Clouds.”

“Yea, but even if she suspected it was a boyfriend, she could hardly say that out loud given that Xiao Zhan had not come out to her.” 

He bites down on his lip as his smile gets wider.  Yibo was now defending his mother from the other standpoint too.

He hears his mother laugh.  “Lili should hear you talk.  You give her such a hard time, Yibo, that I’m sure she thinks you think the worst of her.”

“No, she doesn’t.  My mother knows me, despite all her bluster. She knows I just like getting her all riled up.  She even enjoys it.  She has no one else to fight with, you know.  My dad is too much of a peacemaker and keeper to ever enjoy unnecessary confrontations.  But she and me, we’re both people who enjoy the occasional pointless arguments and petty fights.”

Yes, they did.

“Aah.”  His mother answers.  And now he hears the amusement in her voice.

He hears a sound in return and imagines it’s Yibo smiling back.

There’s some movement then, and he hears the Keurig machine starting up. 

In the midst of the drip drip flow of the coffee, Yibo asks, “Would you mind if Xiao Zhan moves to Korea with me?”

His mother doesn’t answer until the coffee is done, and then he hears some rustling and imagines that she is passing the cup to Yibo. 

“That’s your husband.  What does it matter if I mind?”

                                                                                xxxxxxxx

Chapter Text

He goes back upstairs and sits by the windowsill, reading and watching the front driveway, until he sees Yibo leave a half hour later.  He waits still another half hour before going back downstairs to the kitchen, this time dressed and ready.  His mother is still there, in the middle of making French Toast, and it makes him giddy for some reason, all the overabundance of emotion from his eavesdropping earlier thrumming through his nerves now gushing out like a geyser at the smell of this particular breakfast.  He puts his arms around her neck and breathes in the scent of her hair.  It smells delicious, as if the sweetness of the French Toast has been absorbed into its strands.

He can feel her smile even though she doesn’t look back at him, focused as she is on flipping the pieces of bread.

“When did you get so tall?” she asks. 

“I’ve been the same height since 2008, give or take.”  he says easily.

“Yibo doesn’t mind the difference?” she asks.

“It’s three inches.  He’ll deal.”  he answers easily.

He can feel her smile again, this answer pleasing her immensely. 

She turns the stove off after a moment and then pauses, her hands now grabbing onto his elbows and squeezing them gently.

“When are you going over to see Lili?”  she asks after a moment, leaning back into him a bit more and he adjusts his stance to take on more of her weight.

“Right after I’ve partaken in this ambrosia that you call breakfast.”  he answers, snuggling in a bit more.

They stand like that for a moment before he asks, “Did you tell dad?”

“Hm.” she nods.

“And?” 

“Well, let’s just say he wasn’t as surprised as I thought he would be.”

“What??  Stop!”

“Don’t get me wrong, he was definitely shocked.  But it seemed more about the fact that you got married without telling us rather than the fact that it is to Yibo.”

“He wasn’t surprised that Yibo… swung both ways?”  he asks this merely because he can’t quite believe that anyone else would believe that Yibo isn’t the straightest dude on Earth.  Hell, if he wasn’t so intimately involved in the scenario, he wouldn’t believe it himself.

“I didn’t ask him that, specifically.  But if I were to guess, I doubt that your father would consider Yibo marrying you to mean Yibo swung both ways.” 

He remembers that she is not aware that he was listening in earlier this morning and presses forward carefully.

“Is that what you believe too?” he asks.

“I don’t have to believe it when your husband told me that himself.”

“He did?” he asks, trying to keep his voice neutral.  Lying with any realistic version of believability is not in his arsenal of strengths. 

“Hm.” she murmurs. 

She grabs a plate and moves two pieces of the toast onto the plate, although she has to do it all with his arms still around her neck.  She doesn’t seem to mind that he doesn’t want to let go yet.

“And what is your opinion on the matter?” he asks when she is pouring the maple syrup on top.

“Well, obviously you’re going to have the wedding again.” she says matter-of-factly.

“Wait, what?  You want everyone to fly to New Zealand?” he asks now, finally letting go in shock.

“Why would we do that when the only reason you needed to have it there was to take care of the legal stuff?  We can do it here, in our backyard… or Lili’s… and it’ll just be the wedding part, you know.  The part where it’s celebrating your union with your loved ones.”

He leans back against the island counter as the geyser inside him reopens.  Before all the emotions spewing out throw him far and wide, he grabs the plate that his mother is holding and stuffs his mouth full of French Toast.  The sweetness of the maple syrup and the squishy bread underneath distract him for a moment and his nerves appreciate the slow down.

He finishes the whole of the first piece standing there while his mother turns around to make a plate for his father. 

“Really?” he asks finally in a low voice.

She nods.  “You think I’m going to miss out on my own son’s wedding?”  she asks, moving to grab a third plate for herself.

“You think Yibo’s mom will agree?”

“Agree?” she asks, turning back around.  “I think she’s most hurt about the fact that you both robbed her of doing what she has dreamed of for ages.”

“She’s dreamed of a more traditional wedding for Yibo.” he remarks, glumly touching the second piece of toast.

“What do you know of what she’s dreamed of?  All her pushiness to get Yibo settled and married off was just so he would take life a bit more seriously.  I think the past year and a half has likely cured her of all those worries.  Lately she’s been worried that he’ll just work himself to death.  It’s like removing you from him has somehow taken away all his playfulness.  And happiness.”

“He had an accident and lost his memories, mom.  His life sort of changed drastically at that point.”

“Yea, maybe.  But I don’t think Lili really believes that.  I think she really does think that the only reason for the change in Yibo is being separated from you.  But she saw you in the hospital all those days when you were barely conscious and knew that Yibo was somehow responsible.  Which, in hindsight…”  she pauses and looks at him as if this thought was only just occurring to her.

“Wait, it was because of Yibo, wasn’t it?  It was just a lot more than we knew is all…” she tilts her head at the end as if asking for confirmation.

He eyes the last piece of toast and wonders if he should eat it now or after. 

And then makes a decision with a sigh and puts the plate down.  “We were together when he had the accident.  But it was new.  We had only been together a few weeks.  So, when he woke up…”

He is unable to finish, but he doesn’t have to, because he hears, “He had forgotten all about it.”

They both look towards the other end of the kitchen to find Yibo’s mom standing there.

His stomach and kidneys and liver and any other organ of substance in that general region shoot up into his throat just like that.

He had had a plan to appeal to Mrs. Wang.  It did not involve her coming over here before he had a chance to go over there to make it up to her.

He is rooted to the spot as he watches her walk over to his side, his eyes filling unbidden.

He doesn’t know what he expects, but it’s certainly not seeing her eyes fill as well and grabbing him to her in an embrace.

He is startled for only a moment before he hugs her back tightly, the tears flowing quite freely now.

“I’m sorry.” he whispers.  This just makes her sob audibly against his chest.

It’s a while before her sobs quiet down and he appreciates that his mother allows them to cry it out together.

“I wish you both could have trusted us a little more and not suffered so needlessly.  And that too, so far away and all alone.” she says after a while.

It brings back those memories so forcefully now, how alone he truly had been, and he folds his face into her shoulder.

“What sort of a masochist are you to listen to me go on and on about girls who would be perfect for him when all that time you were already married to him?”  She asks finally, pulling him back to look at his face, although when she sees how wet his cheeks are, she wipes at them gently with her thumbs.

“It’s only just punishment for keeping things from you.”  He answers with a watery smile.

She doesn’t smile back, but says, “I only tried so hard because I thought he would never get over losing you.  He has stopped contacting the rest of the group too, you know.  It was almost as if, without you, everything here was meaningless to him.”

“You know that’s not true…” he starts.

“I know.”  she nods.  “I know that was just his own way of dealing with grief, but you know Zhan Zhan, I had never seen him like that before.  I wouldn’t mind fighting with him every day for the rest of my life if I could just turn back time and get my old Yibo back.”

“Oh, come on, you do sort of like how responsible he is now.”  he offers.

“But now I know why, don’t I?  I should have figured it out when he started to all of a sudden make more of an effort to talk to his dad and me.  I should have known it was because he had somehow found his way back to you!

“How did that even happen?”  his mother asks, cutting in. 

“Yea, how did that happen?” Yibo’s mother seconds.

“Last New Year’s.  When I went out to that lounge with the group.  Yibo happened to be at the same lounge by coincidence.”

“Last New Year??”  Yibo’s mother asks.

“Well, yea, that makes sense.  How else would they be married for six months?”  His mother counters.

“I will never get over how you managed to hide this from everyone for a whole year!  I mean, if Ziyi’s shock is anything to go by, somehow you both fooled all of them too.  And you know, it’s not easy to fool Lulu and Ji Li!”

“I know.” his mother agrees.

“You really don’t mind that I’m not a girl?”  he asks Mrs. Wang before they got away from the main point of contention.

Mrs. Wang laughs, grabbing him to her again.  “I don’t even know why it never occurred to me that Yibo was in love with you all this time.  I mean, in hindsight, it seems ludicrous.  Who is really that joined at the hips to their best friend if there aren’t other feelings involved?”

“We’re like that.”  His mother counters.

Mrs. Wang tilts her head in thought.  Then nods.  “That’s true.  I guess I don’t feel like a total fool then for not having had that thought.”

“Where is Yibo?” he asks, finally picking up his neglected toast. 

“Still in bed, I assume.”  Mrs. Wang says and he wonders how Yibo managed all his night-time and early morning shenanigans without his parents’ knowledge.

His mother gives him a look, although there is a smile there too, as she says, “He should be.  He just left here like two hours ago.”

He keeps his eyes trained on his plate while Mrs. Wang turns to his mother in surprise.  “He did?”

His mother is kind enough to add, “Yes, he got here quite early this morning to have a conversation with me.”

“He did?”  Mrs. Wang’s eyes look like they’re about to fall out of their sockets.

“Oh yes, our Yibo has become very responsible.  So, in a sense, you’ve been proven right, Lili.  All he needed to do was get married to put all his wayward ways behind him.”   His mother offers and then purses her lips to contain her amusement.

“Please!” Mrs. Wang answers.  “As if he would have done that for anyone other than your son.”

He focuses on finishing the toast as he feels his belly muscles tighten again, although this time, they are in response to the butterflies that have suddenly taken flight there.

He should be too sexed out to feel even the barest hint of arousal, but he’s married to Yibo.  So, there it is…  Another fact of life.

                                                                              xxxxxxxx

Chapter Text

“Oy, this heat is brutal!”  Darren whines, trying to hold the hand-held fan as close to his face as possible.  “My dimples are going to melt off at this rate. And what is Wei Wuxian if not for these dimples.”

He is reviewing the last scene that they had shot with the director and several of crew standing around.  He notices that the director is smiling.  They really had landed on the perfect Wei Wuxian.  Flirting was in his DNA; he hardly had to try.  He did need a bit more help with the emotionally charged scenes, but Taeyong was a solid counterpart for that, and they were getting better and better at being able to naturally react to each other during their takes.  Taeyong, for all his reluctance to take on this project for fear that he just wouldn’t do it justice, was proving to be a surprisingly astute Lan Wangji.

“Don’t you want to see your last shot?” he asks Darren, hoping to distract him from his misery.   Although Darren’s disposition was so sunny that no amount of misery clung to him for any significant length of time.  He was amused by even the most mundane, and he had a natural ability to make everyone around him break into a smile from his sheer effervescence. 

“Why bother?  If Lan Wangji’s in the shot, I might as well not even be there.”  Darren says.  This is a familiar refrain. Although it’s often accompanied by a wink and a toothy grin.   He is convinced Darren only says it to get a rise out of Taeyong, who as per usual, now yells from a few feet away, “Ya, stop fishing for compliments.” 

Darren rolls his eyes.  Taeyong has just changed his outer robe for the next shot and he looks over to see the final results.  His breath catches for a moment, as it always does when he sees Taeyong in Lan Wangji’s costume.  Darren is not wrong on this count, he has to agree.  Taeyong hardly looks human in regular clothes, much less in the long white robes of Lan Wangji.  The pulled back, waist-length hair and ornaments highlight the long slant of his eyebrows and the sharp L of his jawbone.  They had given him dark amber contact lenses, which made him positively glow from within. 

“This motherfucker.  Has to steal the limelight all the fucking time.”  Darren murmurs, although the appreciation is still loud and clear in his voice.  

Darren looks back at him and winks.  “Speaking of hot, when’s that husband of yours going to come again?” 

He elbows Darren, but Darren just catches his elbow and pulls him close to whisper in his ear, “Seriously, I will eat him up if you let him lose.”  He growls at the end for effect.

He knocks the ring on his ring finger against the tip of Darren’s nose as he whispers back, “He’s been mine since he was born. Try again in another life.”

“Really?”  Darren asks in excitement, flashing another toothy dimpled grin.

“Hell no!”  And then more calmly, he asks, “Why are you focused on my husband when you’re literally around Lee Taeyong for hours and hours and hours every day?”

Darren scrunches his eyebrows as if this had not even occurred to him for all that he regularly picks on Taeyong’s looks.

“Umm, boy, Taeyong is straight.”

He looks around them to make sure no one’s paying them any attention before turning back to Darren.  “How can you tell?”

“I get no gay vibes at all.” Darren answers as if that is all the explanation that is needed.

“He’s killing all the eye-lock scenes with you.”  he answers, as if somehow that should be read into, even though he knows better.

“Yea, it’s called acting, dummy.  The boy’s a natural.  And his eyes are intense.  And those contacts are fucking blinding on his perfect-ass face.”

“But still, how… you’ve never seen him with Doyoung?”  he asks, genuinely perplexed.

“Of course, I have.  Doyoung has visited at least three times already.  It’s the only time I’ve seen Teayong relaxed.”

“And you don’t think…” he asks.

He and Darren had hit it off from the moment they met.  Well, Darren hit it off with everyone from the moment they met him, but even amidst everyone he had met on set, he could sense that Darren had a soft spot for him.  Sought him out all the time, employed as he was as part of the crew and camped out here in the abominable heat with everyone for four months.  Given how close they had gotten, it was hard to believe that they had only met a few months ago. 

“Listen, I could be totally wrong, but I think they are genuinely besties.  Soul mate besties, but in a platonic sort of way.  I don’t get that sort of unresolved tension from them that I would get if they were something more.”

“Maybe it’s not unresolved.”  he says.  And then catches himself and murmurs, “Am I fucking gossiping?  Is that what this is?”

“It’s just me, you fool.”  Darren whispers back.  And then continues with, “Fuck, you and your husband have more tension between the both of you and you fuck all the time.”

He looks around again to make sure they were not within hearing distance.

“I have seen him exactly three times in the past three months!  How are we fucking all the time?”

“How about all the phone sex?” Darren asks. 

His eyes widen.  “How the fuck do you know that?”

Darren laughs.  “You’re such an easy target, Xiao Zhan!”  He guffaws again, but then abruptly stops and asks, “Wait seriously? You have phone sex that often?”

“I’m not talking to you about this.” he says and starts to turn away, but Darren just pulls him back.  “I bet you he is positively nasty on the phone.”

His cheeks must color visibly, because Darren’s mouth widens in that trademark grin as he says, “Yup, filthy.  Just like I guessed.  Hot fucking Damn, Xiao Zhan. You’re a lucky asshole.  I need me a man like that.”

He slaps Darren’s shoulder, but before he can say anything else, they hear a loud, “Yo, Zhaaaan Zhaaaan!”

His head whips around to find that voice and then he sees her.  Ziyi.  Grinning from ear to ear.  Not just her.  Because just behind her is Xuan Lu, Ji Li, Haikuan, Yubin and Yizhou.

In the six months since their backyard wedding ceremony, Yizhou had slowly become a part of the in-group.  He and Yibo lived in Korea, but they still went back home at least every two months and spent a good deal of time with the rest of the group.  He had to admit, more so than him, Yibo had been the one who had been gracious, although now that they were married and the whole world seemed to know it – well, at least their little world - it’s admittedly not a huge chore to be gracious.  Yibo had been the one to extend an olive branch to Yizhou first, who had accepted it without any pettiness.  Things had still been awkward for a while, but now, each time is an improvement from the one before.

Ji Li has been dating someone pretty seriously for almost a year and thus, at least, there is no awkwardness on that front.

“Oh, Holy Hell…” He hears Darren’s whisper and turns to look at him.  And sees that his gaze is full of, not awe, no no… this is too involved to be awe… this is… lust.

He follows that gaze to… Yizhou.  Of course.  He remembers the feeling that he had gotten when he had first met Yizhou.  He hadn’t felt lust, but he could relate to being slightly blown away.

“He’s a genuinely nice guy.  Don’t break his heart.” he whispers, pulling at Darren’s hand.

Darren does not even appear to hear him, so focused is he on staring at Yizhou.  Who, he now sees, is staring back at Darren. 

They were definitely having a moment. 

He bites his lips to contain a sudden burst of excitement in the pit of his belly.  He has not witnessed such an open display of desire in…

An image of Yibo slapping a hand over his mouth as he took him against the sink of the small bathroom at their hotel the last time he visited swims across his vision.  It had been quick and raw and he had been so hard and needy that if Yibo hadn’t covered his mouth, he wouldn’t have cared who else heard them. 

“Earth to Xiao Zhan!” Ziyi smacks him on the shoulder and the image blinks out like an old-school TV.  He turns to her, grabbing both her and Lulu into a bear hug.

He had known they would come today, but he had expected them in the evening, once the shoot wrapped.

“When’s Yibo coming?”  Yubin asks as he grabs him and Haikuan into a hug afterwards. 

“Tomorrow evening, I think.  He’s coming with Doyoung and a few of the other NCT and WayV guys.”

Ziyi squeals in excitement as he hugs Ji Li and whispers in his ear, “You didn’t bring Feng Mingjing?”

“He’s on call.  He’ll come tomorrow.”  He whispers back, hugging him tight. 

“Have you lost weight again?” Ji Li asks.  “I swear, staying away from Yibo is really no good for your health.” 

He laughs as he pulls back.  “It’s the heat.  Any ounce of flesh on you will literally melt off.”

He looks at Yizhou, who nods at him politely.  He smiles then as he pulls Yizhou into a hug.  He appreciates that Yizhou always waits to see what he will do and follows his lead. 

As soon as he lets go though, Ziyi pulls him over and says, “Ya, introduce us to this cutie!” her gaze moving to Darren, giving him a beaming smile.

“Oh please, we don’t need Xiao Zhan for that.  I’m Darren Chen, the cutie of CQL, as you clearly already know.”  He flashes the dimples until they’re two cute craters in his cheeks and Xiao Zhan looks over to see the answering smiles on the rest of the faces looking at him.  This is Darren’s voodoo.  His smile just automatically elicits an answering smile in whoever he flashed it at, even against their best intentions to do no such thing.

“Yes, you are!” Ziyi agrees, showing all her pearly whites.

“Now that you’ve met the cutie, I bet you want to meet the hottie.”  Darren says, raising an eyebrow.

“It’s like you can read my mind.”  Ziyi answers.

“Oh my God, they are the same person!”  Yubin whispers out loud, looking back and forth between Darren and Ziyi.

Haikuan slaps at Yubin’s hand.

Xuan Lu nods in wonderment as Ji Li says, “It’s uncanny!”

And he wonders why it never struck him before that Darren and Ziyi really were like two peas in a pod of dimpled mischief.

“Yo, hottie!”  Darren calls out.

He can see from here how Taeyong’s shoulders tense at that.  But Taeyong stubbornly does not turn around.

“Hottie Lee Taeyoooooong!”  Darren calls out again, his voice now much louder.  Half the crew turn to look in their direction.

Taeyong turns around with a wince.

Darren turns a cheeky grin on Ziyi and helpfully offers, “He absolutely hates it when I call him that.”

“So, of course, you do it every chance you get.”  Ziyi says matter-of-factly.“Of course.”  Darren agrees.

His friends laugh at this exchange, although it quickly dies down as Taeyong makes his way over.

“Fuck, seriously!  He should be illegal.”  Ziyi remarks.

“Imagine having to share a screen with him.  When I’m already this cute.  It’s like a cosmic joke, you know.  They have to pick the one guy who is really not from this planet to play Lan Wangji.”

“Good eye, Xiao Zhan.  Good eye.”  Yubin pats his shoulder in appreciation as if the credit for this belongs to him.

“It was Yibo’s recommendation.”  he says, not the first or second time.  Although by now, Lan Wangji – because really, this is just Lan Wangji and not even Taeyong – is upon them and there is a collective hush that falls over the group.

Darren puts up with it for all of 2 seconds – even though that he likes to pick on Taeyong, he’s also pretty perceptive in picking up on Taeyong’s tells and he can sense how uncomfortable Taeyong becomes when people stare at him in just this way – before he interrupts with, “Okay, that’s enough, that’s enough.  Only Wei Wuxian is allowed to worship Lan Wangji so openly.   Isn’t that right, Lan Zhan?”  he looks at Taeyong and winks.

Taeyong is surprisingly shy, he had discovered, especially after the shoot had started.  It didn’t help that Mandarin is not his first-language and that he is away from everyone he sees on a regular basis.  For all that Darren is the way he is, he could also be surprisingly protective of Taeyong, some of Wei Wuxian having rubbed off on him.  He often agitated Taeyong only to make him less nervous and come out of his shell a bit more.  And Xiao Zhan knew that Taeyong appreciated it more than he let on.

Taeyong smiles at Darren and for a moment, Darren just tilts his head and stares.  And then says, “Dude, I’m trying to help you out.  Try not to smile so much and make my job harder.”

Taeyong rolls his eyes and looks at the rest of them. 

It’s the first time Taeyong is seeing his friends after that evening long ago in Shalimar, and unsurprisingly, he doesn’t seem to recognize anyone.   Except, when his gaze passes over Haikuan, he does a double-take and returns, smiling as he says, “I remember you.”

Haikuan’s eyes widen at this, as does Ziyi’s, comically so.

“Wait, you don’t remember me, but you remember him??” 

Taeyong looks back at Ziyi and offers a shy smile, contrite, and she immediately eats it up, offering, “It’s okay, I forgive you. Haikuan is pretty unforgettable, actually.”

He looks at Ji Li, who catches his eye at the same time and then both their gazes swing to Haikuan, who, yes, is all flushed now from Ziyi’s practically throwaway comment. 

Oh, they needed to do something about this.  They just needed to figure out if Ziyi was merely oblivious or oblivious as well as uninterested.   This is likely going on years now for all that they knew.

He turns in Darren’s direction accidentally and notices that his gaze has fallen back on Yizhou, who’s returning it in kind.

“Okay, we need to get them a room or something.”  Ji Li whispers in his ear and he automatically murmurs, “I know…” feeling his skin start to heat up a little just from watching the two of them.  Shit, he really missed Yibo.

He snaps out of it quick enough and looks sideways at Ji Li.  They both stare at each other for a moment, before Ji Li says, “Fuck, there are simps for Yizhou everywhere, eh?  Even the celebrities are not immune.” 

He lifts an eyebrow and then they both look back at the couple, who were still staring at each other as if they had never seen humans before… Dear Lord, Darren needed to get laid.  Otherwise, this was all going to show up in the worst way on camera and Taeyong wouldn’t know what hit him.  For all that Taeyong talked about wanting to be whipped in his songs, in real life, the boy was quite… repressed.  Come to think of it… he was starting to understand why Taeyong was so good at playing Lan Wangji.

“We hardly stood a chance.”  he shakes his head and Ji Li nods in commiseration.

The next shot is called soon after and their little party break up.  He tells them to head to the hotel and rest for a bit before the evening.

Dinner is a gregarious and enormous affair, courtesy of Darren and Ziyi holding court at their table.  After two drinks, they have adopted each other as siblings for life and he sees Haikuan look on wistfully.

“Oh, he got it baaad.  Damn!  I never noticed he was this gone before.”  Ji li leans over to whisper.

“I don’t think it was this bad before. We would have known way back when if it was like this!”  he answers. 

“True.”  Ji Li agrees.

Yizhou is seated at the opposite end of the table, just past Yubin, and he has noticed that all through dinner, there are no more I want to fuck you glances between Yizhou and Darren.

“They couldn’t have fucked already.  What is this now?” Ji Li whispers now, as if reading his mind.

“Of course not.  Where would they have had the time or the space or the opportunity?” he asks.

They watch them both again, rather pointedly ignoring each other, and Ji Li says softly, “Shit, this is one of those where the pull is so strong that they’ll find each other’s room somehow tonight.”

“Damn…” he answers just as softly, feeling that excitement from earlier start to thrum through his veins again.

“It’s like waiting for some quality sexy porn with supremely good-looking people.”  Ji Li says absently.

“Why, you planning on peeping in?” he gives him the side-eye.

“Nah, just makes me miss my own porn-maker.”  Ji Li answers, looking at him with a wink.

He laughs.  Ji Li’s “porn maker” is a trauma surgeon and, somehow, or maybe exactly because of his profession, the most easygoing man on the planet. 

“It’s always the easy-going ones who are freaky in bed.” he says.

“Oh please.  What part of Yibo is easy-going?  And I can tell from a mile away that your husband is the king of freaks in bed.”

He clicks his tongue with a “Hey hey… Yibo’s pretty easy-going.”

“I’m glad that’s the part you took issue with and not the king of freaks part.” 

He shrugs.  

Ji Li laughs.

“Dude, you’re the one who first gave me unsolicited information about how hung he is and how he can go all night.” he thinks to remind Ji Li.

“And it piqued your curiosity enough that you decided to seduce him your damn self.”

“How do you know Yibo didn’t seduce me?”

Ji Li gives him a look.  “Yibo’s so obvious.  If he wanted you, I would have known that from the first moment he had that thought.”

“And yet you didn’t…” he cuts in.

But Ji Li proceeds as if he had not spoken.  “But you, son, your brand of seduction is the most potent kind.  That poor boy fell so hard and deep once you turned those limpid eyes on him.  He stood no chance.”

He scoffs.  “What sort of bullshit… limpid of all the stupidity in the world…”

Ji Li just widens his eyes like a fawn and then bats them once and he smacks him on the arm, although he can’t help but smile. 

Once, when he had been upset about something and Yibo had found him before he could properly recover, Yibo had pulled him close and had turned his face to him, cupping it between his hands.  “My heart literally twists like a pretzel when I see your eyes like this…” he had said.  Something about the way in which he had said it had made Xiao Zhan climb onto his lap to kiss him.  Yibo had responded like he always did and they had fucked sitting on that chair, Yibo sucking hickeys into his neck as his fingers clawed into Yibo’s hair.

He says none of that now as he rebuffs Ji Li’s claims. 

Ji Li stops midway though, and leans over once more to whisper, “So, I’m just going to say it.  If Taeyong breaks Lulu’s heart, I will murder him.”

“What?” he asks. 

Taeyong is seated immediately to his left and Lulu is on Taeyong’s other side.

It’s an awkward angle to really watch Taeyong, but before he and Ji Li got into their murmurings, Taeyong had been basically busting his guts at Darren’s and Ziyi’s antics. 

He tries to be inconspicuous as he looks over at them now and yes, they are speaking to each other softy, but it’s hardly whatever Ji Li thinks is going on.

“Oh, come on!” he turns in Ji Li’s direction.

“What come on?  He’s soft and sweet and funny and looks like an immortal.  Lulu’s a woman of exceptional discretion, but come on, who wouldn’t fall for him when he looked at you like that, all up close and personal.”

“Dude, give Lulu some more credit.  She is not one to get blown down by a pretty face.”

“A pretty face??”  Ji Li looks mortally offended.

“A pretty face??”  Ji Li repeats.  “That’s like saying Tesla used to dabble in electricity.”

He pauses a moment, that analogy taking him by surprise, and then he leans over to ask, “Have you been reading up on science stuff to impress your porn-maker?”

Ji Li gives him a seriously offended look for a moment, before he nods and grabs his hand with a sneaky grin.

“Porn-maker adores your brand of smart.” he says.

“Oh, I know.  But occasionally, I like to be his brand of smart too, just for shits and giggles.”

Later on, once they’re done with dinner and drinks and head back to their rooms, he notices that there are three missed calls from Yibo.  Yibo was supposed to be at the airport with the rest of the NCT guys so he hadn’t even thought to check his phone.

He waits until he keys into his room to call back, but then doesn’t even get a chance to turn the light on before he is hugged from behind and pressed in against the wall by the door.

“Baby?” he calls, although he hardly needs to because he can smell Yibo’s shampoo and soap and that slightly sweet smell that is all Yibo’s own as he feels Yibo pull him back against his body to slip a hand under his shirt.

He can already feel Yibo start to get hard behind him and closes his eyes as his head falls back against Yibo’s shoulder.  He’s been craving just this all day…

Yibo’s hand is pulling down his zipper and he gasps when Yibo grabs onto his dick, softly at first. 

They hear murmurs outside of people passing by their door and he bites down on his lips as Yibo licks his ear and asks, “Where’s the lube?”

“In the bedside drawer.”  he manages to get out as Yibo starts pumping his dick slowly.

Yibo abruptly jerks his face towards him with a hand under the chin and pulls on his lower lip with his teeth.

He moans out loud, which makes Yibo crowd into him even more with a growl.

“Touch yourself baby…” Yibo whispers after a bit, pulling back, and he’s so disoriented that he just tries to pull Yibo back to him.

Yibo doesn’t resist in being pulled back, but he still takes his hand and slides it down to his cock, wrapping his fingers around it. 

“Let me see…” Yibo says again and he finally opens his eyes.

Even though he can’t see in full detail, he knows by their shape that Yibo’s pupils are all blown out.  Yibo loves to watch him touch himself.  It must be a throwback to the time when they had lived in two different countries and relied almost entirely on mutual masturbation to get through.  Even though they lived together now, Yibo still traveled quite a bit and on those nights away from each other, they were back to phone and video.  These three months have been the longest that they had been away from each other in recent memory, although Yibo did try to come out as much as he could.

“What do you want to see?” he asks now, putting a hand on Yibo’s shoulder and pushing him down onto the floor.

When Yibo’s face in right in front of his cock, which gets even harder at the sight of his husband kneeling in front of him with such open lust – he looks down and lengthens his eyes as he asks again, “What do you want to see, baby?”

He can see Yibo splay out his knees to lower his pajama pants so that he can take out his dick too. 

He starts pumping it slowly, watching Yibo, and Yibo jerks on his own cock watching him.

He brings his cock close to Yibo’s lips, touching its plumpness softly, and Yibo looks up at him as his tongue darts out to lick its beading tip. 

He feels that in the pit of his belly and drags Yibo back up to him to whisper, “No more games.  Get the lube and fuck me.”

Yibo tries to grab him into a kiss, but he only barely indulges that before he drags Yibo into the room and onto the bed.

The coolness of the lube is welcome in the heat, although the AC is on and he knows it’ll turn chilly soon enough.

It’s just the sort of thing he loves when Yibo’s in bed with him, to snuggle into his heat and warmth.

He feels Yibo’s fingers at his entrance and rises up on his elbows for a kiss.  When Yibo gets distracted with the kiss, he pulls Yibo’s fingers out and pulls on his dick.

“Ah, fuck, slow down baby… I want this to last at least five minutes.”  Yibo growls.

“Bullshit…” he whispers, throwing his arms around Yibo and dragging him down.  “Come in me quick and then wait fifteen minutes and fuck me again.  And again.  And again.”

“Always so ambitious.”  He sees Yibo’s smile before Yibo bends his head into his neck.

“I was going to say generous.”  he answers, smiling when that gets him a little nip just above the collar bone.

“Careful baby, no marks.”

“Why?” Yibo asks, lifting his head.  “You’re married.  I can give you as many hickeys as I damn well please.”

“Fine.”  He says, showing his neck again.  “Bite away.”

There’s only the barest of resistance before Yibo’s deep inside him. 

Yibo likes to pause once he bottoms out, for like a solid minute.  Xiao Zhan thinks it’s one of the best parts of sex.  When there’s this feeling of Finally… and Yibo puts his head on his shoulder and just wants to be held close while Xiao Zhan murmurs things to him… what things doesn’t matter, sometimes they’re silly and sweet… sometimes absolute rubbish… sometimes filthy… it doesn’t matter what, Yibo likes it all. 

“Darren has threatened to eat you up if I ever let you go…” he murmurs now.

He feels Yibo’s chuckle against his neck.

“But then he met Yizhou.  So, I think I’ve finally saved my husband from his evil dimples.”

“Oh yea?”  Yibo asks. 

“Hmm…” he nods.

There is a moment when it seems like Yibo considers that.  And then says, “Yea, I can sorta see that.”

“Sorta? You should have seen them when they first met this afternoon.  I thought the air between them would catch fire spontaneously.”

“Yea?”  Yibo murmurs.

“Hmm… made me horny for you actually.”

“Yea?”  Yibo asks now with more interest. 

He tilts his hips up a little and Yibo thicken back up inside, and his cock sandwiched between them answers in kind.

“Hmm…” he whines.

“I miss coming into bed at night and finding you ready with a plug.”  Yibo bites his earlobe as he says it.

“And I miss how horny you are, even after all this time…” he murmurs back, turning to pull Yibo into a kiss.

“I’m going to be horny forever.”  Yibo says as he starts to move.

For a moment, he just enjoys it, the start of this thing and how competitive Yibo will soon get in driving him mad with pleasure. 

“That’s not what you said before.” He says eventually.

It takes a while for Yibo to figure out what he is talking about, because Yibo gets mindless with pleasure too… hence, the competition.

And then he pauses and asks, “Wait, what?”

“Hmm… I believe your exact words were, “How many years are we going to really care about sex?””

“I’m sure I didn’t.”  Yibo pffts as he starts moving again.

“Oh yes you did baby… you were trying to make me get over my… hesitation about you and homo sex.”

Yibo gets on both elbows now on either side of him to look at him.

“I would have figured out how to make you feel good come hell or high water.” 

Yibo says now with a confidence that comes only from knowing exactly how good he can make his husband feel.   All the time…

“Yea, that was not the issue.  The issue was whether you would enjoy it.”

Yibo narrows his eyes.  And then says, “Sex with you is sex with You.  That’s pretty much the only way to guarantee that I would enjoy sex.” 

Oh yea.  Yibo still said shit like this.  And it still made him go a little crazy in love inside.

It makes him hornier now and he wraps his legs tighter around Yibo as he pulls him down.  Yibo knows the change in his eyes and is prepared for the kink in his brain.  And so when whispers, “One day you should fuck me from behind after blindfolding me.  Will you do that?”

 “Where?” Yibo asks.

“In the kitchen while you feed me some hot gooey fudge…” he answers, closing his eyes when Yibo laces their fingers together and drags their hands way above their heads as he starts moving in long and deep.

He can imagine it, without seeing, just feeling Yibo’s heat and his pulsing cock inside him, feeling his large hand stroke his dick, while the other one is inside his mouth with his finger coated in chocolate.  It’s so decadent that it makes him feel like a glutton just thinking about it.

“Will you whine and moan?” Yibo asks.

“Hmm…” he murmurs, gasping when Yibo starts hitting the spot.

He doesn’t have to wait long before he feels it coming, the edge of it like a mile-high wave that you see building from a distance.  

And his baby, like he did from time to time without fail, orders, “Tell me you love me.”

“I love you.”  he says.

“Again.”

“I love you.” 

Yibo moves faster now as it builds and builds and builds…

“Again...” he growls one last time.

And it hits him full-force, and as if knowing today is going to be screamer, Yibo puts his forearm into his mouth and he bites in as he feels the release throb through every particle of his being. 

They’ve done this too many times in hotels for the bite to be anything significant, but still he appreciates that his husband takes measures to make sure he can walk around the next day among colleagues without fearing that at least some of them had discovered what he sounds like in the throes of an ear-splitting orgasm.

He is panting by the time he says, “I love you…” again.

Yibo kisses the bite mark on his wrist before he comes too, his muscles tightening up the only indication that he is.  Yibo enjoys this type of orgasms the most.  The ones where he gets to watch Xiao Zhan lose his mind while he remains in control till the end.  Yup, that’s how competitive he is.  And that’s the shit he loves. 

Afterwards, Yibo has a self-satisfied smile as he takes in the bitemark on the side of his hand. 

He shakes his head, murmuring, “So full of yourself.”

Yibo only chuckles in answer, pulling him close as he whispers, “My mind pleasure is far superior to my body pleasure.”

Indeed.

                                                                                 xxxxxxxx

The show comes out six months after it wraps.  By then, Taeyong is so busy with NCT and SuperM tours that Xiao Zhan is glad.  Because he has discovered that Taeyong is an anxious bee like himself.  And even though they are prepared for some of the antis emerging with the release of the show, he knows that that whole thing has never really gotten all that much easier for Taeyong.  And so, he’s glad that Taeyong keeps busy.  Taeyong texts him at least once a week.  And if he doesn’t, Doyoung does to give regular updates.  So, he knows that he’s okay. 

He has discovered that Taeyong texts someone with far greater frequency (even though Lulu will never admit it).  He’s anxious about that.  Taeyong is not the type to take on casual relationships.  Neither is Lulu.  They never really get to see other.  Ever.  So, it makes him anxious for them, if it ever did get to be more than just texting…

The initial ratings of the show are not encouraging, but by the third week, things start to look up.  Taeyong and Darren have a sort of magic on screen, if not from the get-go, then definitely by the time the 14^th episode rolls around.  Watching it, the scene in the cave, is so emotional for him that he has to pause it and pull Yibo on top on him, as if letting Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji vicariously live through them for the moment.  Yibo is only too happy to comply, whispering in his ear, “Did you think of me when you wrote this scene?”

“When do I not think of you?”  he asks in return.

By then, he can no longer see Taeyong or Darren.  It’s only Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian. 

Watching the show with Yibo is an entirely different revelation.

As much as he knows Yibo inside out, Yibo still surprises him from time to time with the things that he says.  For all that he’s the writer, he thinks Yibo is the one with the words.  Unadorned those words often are, and thus, with nothing but its golden core, laid bare and shining. 

In episode 26, after Wei Wuxian threatens everyone with his flute, Yibo waits long after the episode is over and they are in bed for the night and the lights are off before he says, “I think Lan Wangji only fell for Wei Wuxian today.”

Yibo is spooning him from behind and his voice is a deep vibration against his neck.  Even though it distracts him, he still manages to ask, “Why?”

“Until now, he’s this idealistic, impulsive, irreverent, intelligent, sort of iridescent unicorn.”  Yibo says.

He smiles at all the adjectives and asks, “Did you purposely alliterate?”

He hears the amused huff against his neck as Yibo says, “I do some shit just to impress you.”

He laughs, but then asks Yibo to go on.

“But since the burial mounds, he’s still all of that, except now with power and short bouts of insanity.”

“He’s a madman, you mean…” he rephrases. 

“No.  I mean, exactly that… with power and short bouts of insanity.  The insanity doesn’t really affect his judgement, because if you really think about it, even without the power or the golden core, he would still make the same decisions, but just use different tactics.  He’s like a Machiavellian with principles.  There must be a term for this.”

“He’s just Machiavellian.  The end justifies the means.  Machiavelli did not specify what end, only that the methods to get there is defensible if you get there in the end.”

“Hmm…” Yibo thinks about that.  “Then, just Machiavellian.  To Wei Wuxian, energy is energy, power is power, principle is principle.  He’s not afraid to use one to influence the other.  Lan Wangji, on the other hand, has energy, power, and principle and yet uses nothing to any great effect.”

“Damn, even after losing your memories of this, there’s still not an iota of difference in how you read Lan Wangji.”  he remarks, smiling.

Yibo smiles against his neck.  This is not the first time Yibo has heard as much.

“I’m not necessarily saying Wei Wuxian is more right than Lan Wangji.  I’m just saying that in almost all ways that matter, they are the opposite ends of the pole.  Too off the norm, the both of them.  But Lan Wangji doesn’t really know how far to the right of the center he really is until he sees Wei Ying in action today.  It’s like this moment of truth, isn’t it?  For all his principles, when in front of all those people, all he can utter in that entire time is “Wei Ying.”” 

“That’s because Wei Ying was about to lose his shit.  You forget that he grabbed the flute?”  he asks.

“True.  But why?  It’s him against everyone else.  Wei Wuxian against the World.  And the only thing Lan Wangji says is Wei Ying.”

He doesn’t interrupt because he wants Yibo to continue.

“The disappointment I would have felt if that had been me, knowing that I can’t count on my brother, I have no allies, and the one person whom I respect and admire and consider my friend looks at me the same way as everyone else.  Just an out of control rebel who likes to stir up trouble.” 

“He is a little out of control though, you have to admit.”  he says, pulling Yibo’s arms tighter around him.

“You really think he was going to kill all those people?”  Yibo asks.

“I wouldn’t want to call his bluff.  He can’t even control himself once he starts, despite the best of intentions.”

Yibo doesn’t disagree, although he says, “He has really no one by his side.  Just people who are scared of him or scared for him.  He has to trust himself because no one else will.  He’s still impulsive, but really quite brave too.  The real kind of brave.  The kind where you are scared, but you do it anyway.  Even knowing all that you are losing because of it.”

He turns around now to face Yibo.  “You really like him that much?”

“Hm…” Yibo says.

For some reason, that affects him so much more than he knows why and when he pulls Yibo to him that night, there’s nothing playful about it.  Yibo seems to understand intuitively and it’s a lot like their lovemaking in New Zealand, intense and possessive.   He barely makes a sound when he comes, just watching Yibo’s eyes gazing down at him as if he can see directly into everything he feels.  And into every thought that he won’t say out loud.

In episode 33, all Yibo says is, “He doesn’t let go because of guilt.  He lets go because the guilt came at the end of everything else too.  He had walked alone in the dark on that narrow bridge as far as he could go.  And when he got to the middle of that ocean where he could no longer see where he started nor where he was going and he was finally really alone, he jumped off.” 

He waits until they’re in bed, those words ricocheting through his brain, and the lights are off, before he slides down and puts his face against Yibo’s chest and cries.

In episode 43, when Lan Zhan brings Emperor’s Shine and offers it to Wei Ying, Yibo pauses the video to pull him onto his lap and it’s a little grinding, a little cockwarming, and a little necking all mixed in as they watch the rest.

The show had made a slight change to the script so that the happily ever after that he had left no doubts about in his novel becomes an exercise in some protracted angst where it seems like Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian may separate.  He hadn’t warned Yibo about it, but he still doesn’t expect it when Yibo pauses in the middle of the last episode and turns to him with a look of utter betrayal.  “You rewrote the ending?” 

“I did not.  How can I?  My novel is already published.  This is a script based on my novel.” he answers.

“A script that has stayed true to the novel thus far.  And they’re going for some melodramatic bullshit at the end?  In what world does this guy who lost the love of his life once through his cowardice…”

“That’s oversimplifying…”  he cuts in.

“It’s really not though.” Yibo counters, upset now, before he continues with, “In what world does he live through that, waits sixteen years for a dead guy, becomes literally attached at the hip with him once he resurrects into life, that guy, that same guy is going to now leave him just because he has to go be the leader of his clan?”

“Maybe he doesn’t want to tie Wei Ying down?”

“Such bullshit.  Wei Ying would descend into literal hell for him.  Hell, he would do that without knowing this much love.  So, imagine now…”

He grabs the remote back and presses play and says, “Watch till the end.”

And they do.  And Yibo is not only not mollified, but even more angry.  “What the hell?  Wei Ying is supposed to cry in gratitude that this asshole came back?  Fuck that!”

Yibo remains angry even once they are in bed and finally he pulls him close and asks, “You know they have to make it a bit more cinematic and angsty.  That’s just good TV.  Why does it bother you that much?” 

“Because that goes against the very essence of the character.  You can’t make him into this perfect soulmate and then at the last minute, in the name of some bullshit, make him do something so fundamentally against everything he’s made the viewer believe about him.  That’s like betrayal in the first degree.”

“Baby…” he calls, surprised.  Yibo’s been known to pick some petty-ass arguments, but this sounds entirely serious.

“I’m in a bad mood.”  Yibo says, not even with his standard pout, but in actual anger.

Fuck.

“Okay.”  he answers, pulling the hand back that he had reached over to touch him.  “You want to be left alone for a bit?” he asks.

Yibo nods.

“Okay.” he nods too and turns around so that his back is to Yibo to give him some space.

If he had known Yibo would get this upset, he would have never agreed to the ending.  Not that ultimately it would have mattered, but still, he would have at least made his opposition known.  But for him, the show is the show.  His novel is his novel.  His came first.  So, whatever changes in the show he didn’t like, he didn’t mind as much because the original is still the original.

In the middle of the night, he feels Yibo’s touch.  As he had barely slept, he turns to him immediately and moves into his embrace. 

“What’s wrong?” he whispers once Yibo’s head is buried in his neck.

“I don’t really know…” Yibo whispers back.

“It’s like he let Wei Wuxian down again?” he asks.

Yibo doesn’t answer, but holds him just like that for a long time.

                                                                               xxxxxxx

By the time the last episode airs, the show is a bonafide hit. 

At the success party, Darren finds Ziyi again and they’re attached at the hip for the rest of the night.  Well, most of the night.  He’s sure Darren and Yizhou hooked up at some point in some corner of the hotel.  As they had been for months.  Pretending like no one else knew.  Even though all of them had figured that shit out.  You only had to stand in the same room with them to know that they were fucking.  And he would bet, it was some good fucking too.

Taeyong and Yibo are chatting on his left. Lulu is on his other side.  Really though, Taeyong and Lulu are just using their presence as decoys to avoid rumors at this point, and they willingly indulge.  At some point, the discussion turns to the ending of the show. Yibo doesn’t express an opinion one way or the other until Taeyong says, “I told them so many times that there is no way Lan Wangji would even joke about leaving Wei Wuxian’s side, much less actually leave him other than as a corpse.”

“Please, you think Wei Wuxian would let Lan Wangji leave even as a corpse?  He would just do his voodoo and live with the living dead.”  he remarks, looking over.

Yibo ignores the comment and instead asks Taeyong, “So you think that too?” 

“Doesn’t everybody?”  Taeyong asks.  “Darren and I talked about it ad-nauseum, how to make it look on screen like even though it's a separation, it’s really not… except you know, the whole point of that scene is to make it seem like it really is this good-bye that neither of them wants.  Then why? Why?” Taeyong asks.

He looks at Lulu and sees her smile.  “He’s been talking about this non-stop.  He cannot let it go.   Says it’s inconsistent with the character.  Says the one thing Lan Wangji will forever be remembered for is his devotion to Wei Wuxian.  How then, does he leave Wei Wuxian?”

“You agree?”  he asks Lulu, marveling at how similar and unrelenting Yibo and Taeyong are on the topic of eternal loyalty.  

“I read your novel first.  So, it only struck me as, “Oh, they changed the ending to make it more dramatic.” I did not take it the way he did.”

“Well, it’s clear that he does not take relationships lightly.”  he says with a smile.

Lulu doesn’t smile, but he sees the longing that comes over her gaze as it slips to Taeyong.  “He doesn’t…”

“Is it…” he starts, but doesn’t know what comes next or how to finish.

She seems to know anyways and looks back at him, now with a slight smile.  “Some happily ever afters are condensed into small moments.  It has its own sort of… magic.”  she finishes, looking at Taeyong again.

This time, though, Taeyong notices and looks back. 

And he feels the same way he does when he finds himself standing anywhere near Yizhou and Darren, except this feels a lot less corporeal.

                                                                         xxxxxx

After the party, they take a flight to their parents’.  Their flight back to Korea is the next evening.

The plan is to spend the night at Yibo’s and for his own parents to come over the next morning so that all of them can spend the day together until they have to leave for the airport.

They get in late and fall asleep quickly, but he wakes up early to make breakfast before Yibo’s mom wakes up. 

He thinks Yibo will sleep for a while and is surprised when he gets a back-hug before he’s even halfway done with breakfast on the stove.

When the hug lingers, he whispers, “We can’t do it here.”

Yibo doesn’t answer.

“Baby…” he calls, turning his head in profile to make sure Yibo understands.

Yibo still doesn’t answer, but presses his lips against his neck.

“If you make me so horny that I don’t even care about getting dicked down in your mother’s kitchen, I’ll never forgive you.”  He whispers again, trying to sound angry, but not quite achieving it when Yibo’s mouth trails kisses down his neck.

Yibo’s hands are still around his waist, not even anywhere near his hips, but he can already feel the lust swirling in his belly.  So unfocused is he that he’s brought back to earth when his fingers touch the hot pan.

He pulls back with a yelp and Yibo automatically takes the finger into his mouth to suck on it. 

His eyes close as he remembers the same scene from more than two years ago when Yibo had done just this and made his heart pound like crazy. 

Even if he hadn’t wanted to acknowledge it then, that day he had known that he would never feel that way for anyone else. Ever.

It makes him turn off the stove and lean into Yibo as he feels the heat of Yibo’s mouth around his finger.

“Do you have lube?” he whispers.

“Hmm…” Yibo makes a throaty sound around his finger.

“Fuck me in the bathroom.”  he says, turning around to face Yibo.

“It’s small.”  Yibo answers, pulling his finger out.

“I know.” 

And it is small, indeed.  It’s a guest bathroom and has just enough room for the sink and the toilet and a stand-in shower, and it speaks to his urgency that he doesn’t even care as he pulls Yibo into the shower, pulling down his pants as he whispers, “Quickly, quickly.”

If he were to be completely honest, he loved these quickies.  It was urgent and fast and raw and intense.  And the longer they were married, the easier it had been to figure out how to do these whenever and wherever they found themselves. 

Yibo’s inside him a moment later and he bites into his fist. 

“Fuck, you’re going to leave marks.”  Yibo says, pulling his hand out.

“You want me to wake your parents?”  he asks.

“I like it when you try to be quiet and then it’s these little whimpering sounds that come out when you beg me in whispers to fuck you harder, quicker…”

“Stop…” he says now, but only because his cock is so hard.

When he grabs onto it to stroke it, he feels Yibo pause.  He smiles a little as he closes his eyes and lays back against Yibo’s shoulder to stroke his dick slowly, putting on quite the show that his husband loved to watch.  And sure enough, he can feel it when Yibo starts to pulse inside him even though he’s standing completely still.  It makes him so wild that he moves his hips as he pumps his dick, his insides clenching and squeezing Yibo.

It takes a few minutes before he hears Yibo’s growl by his ear and then, “Oh fuck fuck fuck…”

Hmm…. sometimes Yibo lost the competition. 

As he moves with control, riding his husband’s dick, he feels Yibo’s hands come up to grab onto his hips to still them.  And then Yibo pushes him slightly forward until his head rests against the wall before they start back up, Yibo’s thrusts hard and quick.

He stuffs his fist into his mouth once again.  He can feel it, this is going to be filthy and it’s going to make him come so fucking much.

And he does, shooting his jizz all over the walls with how close he is to it. 

When he collapses back against Yibo’s chest, panting, he is the one who says, “Tell me, baby.”

“I fucking love you to Neptune and back!” Yibo answers, grabbing him tight.

                                                                             xxxxxxxxxx