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agapaic · 3 years

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[19 days] whiplash [ch. 365 after-shot]

The shop will be closing soon. He’s seen an attendant wandering around, who will probably ask him to leave in the next five minutes. There’s no one else here. His clothes are vivid against the neon glow of the tanks. The fish cast strange shadows on his shirt, living out a second life on his skin.

They swim in half-circles before sharply changing direction, never touching the glass. He wonders if they know it’s there, as if they can sense some immovable wall that holds them back.

He’s not getting deep about this. He could contemplate, quite extensively, about how their freedom must be bought by some higher power, and they would really only go from one tank to the next, slightly bigger, slightly richer. It’s all fake shit, and he remembers that in some ways he’s got it better than an animal. He can, at least, run away. Maybe he won’t get far. Just to the edges of the city villages where he’ll get a job earning less than before and lose his place in school.

Guan Shan puts a finger on the glass in front of him. There’s a label in the corner, peeling away from the glass. Veiltail goldfish. They have wispy, membrane-like tails. He could put his hand on the other side and see all the way through. Guan Shan watches the only black fish in the tank move placidly through the water.

Beneath the label, a smaller one: Black moor. For a minute he considers tugging the label off and putting it in his pocket, a little secret. He remembers that would be stealing, in some way, and someone in the shop would have to go to the effort of printing and laminating and reapplying the label just for one fish.

Guan Shan turns away.

He wanders for a few more minutes. He’s aware of his reflection in the glass. He worries about how long the attendant will let him stay there, and the thought that they will make him leave makes him feel slightly sick. He likes it here—the quiet, the muted hum of the tanks, the strange lights. They make him feel somewhere else.

His mother is working the night shift and won’t be home until just before he’s meant to go to school the next morning. They’ll have long enough together that he could tell her he got fired from the shop, but not long enough that he could reasonably pretend to have forgotten as he tugs on his uniform and slips out the front door.

She won’t be mad—she never is.

She can’t take on another shift.

Mentally, he has started taking stock. His Xbox is a few years old, but he’ll get something for it. He has a stack of old music magazines from his dad that could catch the eye of a collector. His computer, maybe.

The earrings.

His stomach twists.

Really, it’s not much. It’ll earn them a month, which could be just long enough for him to get another job, but what’s the likelihood of that in a city where most kids are just trying to bulk their CV’s for their college applications. Besides, his grades speak for themselves. He got lucky with the shop, and lightning doesn’t strike twice.

‘Hey, kid. We’re closing soon, so unless you wanna buy something…’

Guan Shan nods. His shoulders round.

For no logical reason, he says: ‘Can I take a goldfish?’

‘Sure. The black moor? Saw you had your eye on that one.’

‘No, one of the others.’

The attendant comes up next to him. ‘Just the one? They don’t like being on their own, you know.’

He presses his jaw tightly. A small sound comes out of him. He looks at the price tag and is somehow shocked and saddened to see the figure so low.

‘Fine,’ he says. ‘The black one, too, I guess.’

He pays, then leaves. It’s late enough that the streets are quieter than he expected. He’s usually home by now, his shift over, reheating leftovers while he works on his homework. He stands there while the shop attendant locks up behind him, holding the plastic bag with two fish in his hand. He feels stupid. Behind his eyes, he can feel a sort of stinging sensation.

He has the unnameable urge to grab one of the passing strangers and tell them how he’s feeling, what has happened, what could happen. On some level he knows that everyone has their own problems, and he’s not the type of person to overstep his bounds. Instead, he watches them pass, and after a few more minutes he goes to the nearest subway station and gets the train home.

He had half expected He Tian to find him on the street. He’d imagined it, He Tian catching his arm as he wandered from store to store, deliberating at large windows with thin mannequins and expensive jewellery without price tags. There is a part of him that’s disappointed that it didn’t play out like this, a part of him that is even angrier to find He Tian sitting in the stairwell of his apartment when he eventually does get home.

It’s close to midnight, and the stairwell is clinically quiet. Outside, the stars are dusty and covered in a thin layer of smog that is less noticeable in the day. He Tian looks exhausted. He’s the type of good looking where even the slightest imperfection somehow makes him even more attractive. Guan Shan hates it.

He stands when Guan Shan walks in, suddenly filling the space, and Guan Shan says, ‘Get outta my way.’

‘Where have you been?’

Guan Shan shoulders past him. There’s a moment where he thinks He Tian will grab him around the shoulders, the air around him simmering enough that Guan Shan is convinced it’s a near thing, choking with danger, but he lets him pass. He follows Guan Shan up the staircase, his footsteps silent, his body casting long shadows on the steps where Guan Shan sets his feet.

At the door, Guan Shan pockets the notice that’s taped there, knowing He Tian has already seen it. Less sharply, he picks up the notes in He Tian’s and Jian Yi’s writing and folds them into careful squares.

‘You’re not comin’ in,’ he says.

‘I called you, like, fifty times. Did you block me?’

Guan Shan thinks He Tian sounds angrier than he really has a right to be. He turns and presses his back to the door. He has his keys clenched tightly in a closed fist.

‘Yeah. I didn’t want to talk to you. I thought you would’ve gotten that.’

‘I can get you another job. Something better paid.’

‘You’re so fuckin’ clueless.’

He Tian’s eyes tighten.

‘You’re ruining my life,’ says Guan Shan.

‘That’s—that isn’t true. I’ve helped you. You would’ve been expelled if—’

‘Maybe I would’ve gotten expelled. But I wouldn’t have had She Li on my dick all the time, would I? Wouldn’t need you to get me a job ‘cause you made me lose my last one, would I? You’re just—stickin’ a bandage on shit when you hurt me first.’

‘It’s not always like that. Don’t make it sound like it’s always like that.’

Guan Shan shakes his head. ‘I want you to go. I told you I didn’t want to see you again. Fuck off.’

He Tian says, ‘Let me pay what was on the door.’

‘Fuck off.’

He Tian doesn’t move and Guan Shan squeezes his eyes shut. He’s going to cry again, the frustration bubbling sourly in the back of his throat. He doesn’t trust himself to open the door while He Tian is still here because he knows he’ll probably let him in.

‘Do I really make you feel like a failure?’

Guan Shan rubs at his eyes with his fist. His voice comes hoarse and thick: ‘I am a failure. Bein’ around you just makes it so much more fuckin’ obvious.’

He doesn’t want He Tian’s pity when he says this, or his reassurance. He’s just being honest. Saying it out loud is kind of breathlessly relieving. He couldn’t say something like that to his mother, or any of the teachers at school. He couldn’t say it to Grey, who he’s known for years. He Tian knows more about him than anyone. It’s a terrifying thought.

If they never see each other again, will He Tian tell everyone the things Guan Shan has told him? About the restaurant and his dad, or about She Li and the things Guan Shan has let him do to him? He feels vulnerable and sick thinking about it, completely powerless, as he does a lot of the time when he’s around He Tian.

He oscillates between that feeling of uselessness and the feeling of being so empowered that he thinks it must be what being high or drunk feels like. That latter has him trusting his own convictions, having an unadulterated faith in himself like jumping from a bridge and thinking he might just fly—so long as He Tian is with him. He doesn’t like how it’s one or the other, empowered or powerless, and rarely anything in between. He’s heard adults on TV talking about being codependent, pulled punishingly into each other's orbit, and he wonders if this is the same thing.

In the end he supposes it doesn’t really matter. So what if He Tian tells everyone? Probably, he won’t see the rest of the year out at school. He’ll get a job on a different side of the city and no one will hear from him ever again. The embarrassment will all be internal and will only last a week or two. Then life will move on. He wishes he were older and wiser and better at believing this. He wishes it didn’t feel like the universe might fall out from beneath him.

‘Doesn’t matter what I do, it turns to shit,’ he tells He Tian. ‘No matter how hard I work, I’m never gonna earn enough. I can spend three hours studyin’ for a test and still come last. If it isn’t She Li, then it’ll be someone else. I just—I can’t catch a fuckin’ break, He Tian. But you do somethin’ and you come first every time. Life’s so easy for you.’

He Tian shifts from side to side. ‘Do you think things wouldn’t feel so hard if you stopped focussing on what you think my life is like?’

‘You’re pissin’ me off.’

‘I don’t know how I’m meant to help you. You won’t let me give you money. It’s like pulling teeth from you just trying to know what’s going on with you. What are you so fucking afraid of?’

‘I never asked for your help.’

‘You shouldn’t have to—that’s why we’re friends.’

‘I never said I wanted to be your friend.’

He Tian frowns, his look very serious. He isn’t teasing tonight. Neither is Guan Shan. There is the sense that their interactions are always anything but teasing, really, some dark undercurrent that runs between the two of them like dark veins.

He Tian says, ‘Are those fish?’

For a moment Guan Shan thinks he’s joking, deflecting wildly to distract from the seriousness of what Guan Shan has just said. Then he feels the crinkle of a plastic bag in his hand and, remembering how he’d just spent the last few hours, nearly drops the two goldfish onto the floor.

‘Yeah,’ he says.

‘You don’t have a tank.’

‘Yeah, no. I don’t know why I bought them.’

He Tian hesitates. There is a curious, predictable gleam in his eyes. ‘Red and black?’

‘It’s all they had left at the store.’

He Tian is looking intently at the bag. ‘Do you remember when we went to the aquarium? And you said I wasn’t someone you could forget?’

‘I just meant that—’

‘I know what you meant. But I always pretend like you meant it the other way.’

Guan Shan thinks, Don’t you think things would be easier if you stopped focusing on what you want me to mean and what I actually mean?

Instead of saying anything, he looks down at his sneakers. They’re scuffed and starting to rip at the seams. The thought of having to buy new ones makes him panic and the thought of buying a pair of second-hand ones online makes him panic even more. There’s no shame in it, but the thought of wearing someone else’s clothes makes him feel strange, especially when he knows He Tian could buy fifty pairs without blinking.

Guan Shan considers that thought and replays what He Tian has just said about focusing on his life too much more than his own. Maybe part of that is true.

Before He Tian, did he always feel things so intensely? Did the bad always feel so fucking awful? He knows that things were mechanical, and he was mean and didn’t think much about other people in particularly nice ways. He knows he didn’t laugh much then, or have dinners and sleepovers with friends. He knows everything hurt on a distant, muted level that was easy to ignore. Not much time has passed since then, and he reasons that nothing about him has probably changed, just everything else around him.

‘I can’t understand why you won’t let me help you,’ says He Tian, when the silence has stretched too long.

‘Because I’ll get used to it.’

He Tian frowns, not understanding.

‘One day, you’re not gonna be around. And I’ll be fucked.’

‘I’ll always be there for you.’

‘You don’t know that. People say that a lot and then they disappear or get taken away, even if they didn’t want to.’

It’s obvious they’re talking about his dad, but it feels safer to talk about things in vague, subjective conversation. Maybe things would be easier if they talked openly about things and didn’t use metaphors and hypotheticals. As it is, Guan Shan doesn’t feel ready to try the alternative. He is conscious of the fact that this feels like a conversation. They are passing words back and forth that hold meaning and neither of them has touched the other yet. It feels new and fragile as an oil painting, still wet, and so he doesn’t let himself think about this for long.

‘I think you’re getting this wrong,’ says He Tian. ‘I’m not asking you to rely on me. Obviously, I’d kind of like that. I like the thought of you needing me, and I know that says something about me. But—I’m just asking you to let me help you. Just here and there, no strings.’

Guan Shan rubs his forehead with the back of his knuckles. His keys are starting to pinch his skin and he can feel a headache starting to surface.

‘I’m tired,’ he says. ‘I actually do want you to go.’

He Tian’s jaw clenches and he breathes out heavily through his nose. He’s probably thinking he’s wasted his time.

‘Okay,’ he says then. ‘But we’re not done.’

A new wave of exhaustion comes over Guan Shan, crippling and final. He wants to get into bed with his skin against cold sheets and sleep for twelve hours without waking once.

‘You’re not the only one that ever gets to decide that,’ he tells He Tian, a little sharply. ‘You’ve gotta learn to let people go.’

‘But what if I know I can help them?’ says He Tian. ‘If I don’t, I’ve just—failed.’

They look at each other.

A minute stretches into an eternity that could be seconds or hours, and everything has gone backwards. Everything is the same.

Guan Shan can’t put his finger on what has just happened, but he feels like laughing. Their fears are twinned, self-perpetuating, some kind of ouroboros chasing its tail. Who will get caught first?

They both seem to take in a breath at the same time, and He Tian takes a step back.

‘Goodnight,’ he says.

Guan Shan nods. He waits for He Tian’s retreating back to disappear a few flights down before opening the door to his apartment, and shuts it swiftly behind him.

There’s a knock at the door while he’s brushing his teeth. The fish are swimming placidly in their bag on the edge of the bathroom sink. It’s past one, and he keeps all the lights off because his eyes are feeling sore. He’s adjusted to the dim glow that comes from street lamps seeping through the curtains, the blink of the timer on the electric stove, his Xbox gleaming in his bedroom. His mother shouldn’t be home yet and she has her own set of keys.

With a sinking heart, Guan Shan pictures his landlord demanding payment.

Worse, he pictures He Tian. Before He Tian left, they’d resolved nothing. It feels like being back to square one, chasing each other around a chess board. It fills him with a vast emptiness that makes him feel like he’s existing outside of himself, waiting for someone else to take over.

He pads silently towards the front door, his toothbrush jammed into his cheek, and peers through the viewer. There’s toothpaste dripping down his chin. In the hall, there’s no one there. He’s half-convinced he imagined it. He counts to ten before he opens the door, steps out—and his foot connects with something hard. There is a cardboard box sitting on the welcome mat.

Guan Shan peers around. The light in the stairwell is artificially bright. He kneels down and opens the tabs on the box, which hasn’t been taped. He swallows.

For the fish, says the note on the second box, nestled inside the first. Careful, it’s fragile.

Guan Shan rubs the heel of a palm into his right eye. He sighs. Then he reaches out, braces himself, and picks up the tank. He carries it into his apartment, and the door locks behind him.

thank you for reading! if you’d like to support me on my ko-fi/request a short drabble, you can do so here: https://ko-fi.com/agapaic 💞

#19 days #tianshan #old xian #he tian #mo guan shan #my fanfic #sorry for errors - it's late but i couldn't get this out my head

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pengiesama · 5 years

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I Wanna Be Yours (Fic, TGCF, HC/XL, Modern AU)

Title: I Wanna Be Yours Series: Heavenly Official’s Blessing (Tian Guan Ci Fu) Pairing: Hua Cheng/Xie Lian

Summary:

Xie Lian wants to make Hua Cheng's birthday a special one. Luckily, this is achievable as a simple four-step plan:

Step the first: go to his place. Step the second: take off your clothes. Step the third: you're wearing lingerie under your clothes. Step the fourth: tell the birthday boy to unwrap his present.

Link: AO3

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What was he doing. What was he doing. Oh, this was so foolish. Oh, this was going so wrong already.

Xie Lian was currently undergoing a crisis in the bathroom of Hua Cheng’s apartment. He’d had crises in much worse settings, certainly – at least here there was a lovely view of the city skyline from the window, and a nice big bathtub to sit in and reflect on one’s actions. But the – setting of it all only reminded Xie Lian of why he was having this crisis.

Xie Lian again caught a glimpse of himself in the bathroom mirror, and let out a miserable groan. He retreated to the tub for some of that aforementioned reflection time.

It was Hua Cheng’s birthday, and Xie Lian had been at a loss. What do you get the man who has everything, especially when you’re a man who emphatically does not? He’d asked him, of course, what he wanted, and Hua Cheng had assured him that the pleasure of Xie Lian’s company would be a precious gift to last him through the year. And Xie Lian had flushed, and Hua Cheng had smiled, and kissed his knuckles, and – satisfied that he had properly flustered Xie Lian enough for the day – had walked Xie Lian back to his apartment. And.

And.

And that had been it.

Hua Cheng was charming. He was smooth, and suave, and a complete gentleman. This much had remained the same over the years. They’d had…well, there was something there between them, when they were attending university together. Something big and mysterious and so, so tempting and so, so scary – something they’d never had the nerve to act on, back then. They’d lost touch after Xie Lian dropped out, though not through any fault of Hua Cheng’s. Xie Lian had packed a bag and walked out of the dorms without so much as a goodbye to anyone – too ashamed of everything that had led to this to give even the slightest courtesy to the few people who still gave a shit about him. It wasn’t a proud time in his life. But years later, years later, he’d found himself staring at a familiar figure at his apartment doorstep, and welcoming him in for tea.

It was a second chance that Xie Lian didn’t think he deserved. But Hua Cheng still wanted to give it to him – still felt the same about him as he did when he was a silly, lovestruck kid barely out of his teens. And oh, Xie Lian could relate, could relate to the way his skin burned when Hua Cheng offered his hand to help him out of his seat, could relate to the way his heart felt as though it would burst from his chest when Hua Cheng kissed him goodnight at his apartment door. Could relate to the way his spirits soared whenever Hua Cheng caught a glimpse of him and smiled, smiled so warm and wide no matter what they were doing. Could relate to the frustration he surely felt when they were kissing on the couch and Xie Lian’s body froze up whenever hands began to wander too far.

He wanted to give Hua Cheng more than just – handholding and forehead kisses. He himself wanted more than that. But here was the thing: he was a thirty-year-old virgin with a whole lotta baggage to unpack about intimacy. What was a lovestruck idiot such as he to do?

His first mistake was seeking the advice of Shi Qing Xuan.

“You are in the presence of a gift-giving guru,” Shi Qing Xuan assured him. “Remember what I got Ming-Xiong at our joint party last year?”

“I do,” Xie Lian said politely, hoping that Shi Qing Xuan wouldn’t force him to re-live the memories of an evening that had traumatized everyone witnessing it.

A giant cake, being wheeled out of the kitchen. Ming Yi’s eyes going glassy and dark at the sight of it; the eyes of a shark, overcome by the smell of blood. Shi Qing Xuan, popping out of the cake in a sexy bunny-suit, only managing to sing a few notes of his birthday serenade before Ming Yi lunged in and—

And—

Overcome, overcome by the smell of blood and fondant, and the terrible sounds of screams—

Xie Lian shivered and tried to bring himself back to the present. He’d survived that night, as most other restaurant patrons had, and that was all that mattered in the end.

Shi Qing Xuan leaned in, giving Xie Lian a too-bright, too-manic smile. Xie Lian had half a mind to excuse himself and escape out the nearest window, but found his wrists seized before he could put that plan into action.

“We’re going lin-ger-ie shoppiiiing,” Shi Qing Xuan trilled in a sing-song voice.

And that was how Xie Lian wound up in the tub, dressed in something vaguely resembling underwear.

The plan, as Shi Qing Xuan had outlined it (on pink, perfumed stationery), had been so simple on paper.

Step one: go to your San Lang’s place.

Step two: excuse yourself to the bathroom!

Step three: take off your clothes!!

Step four: you’re secretly wearing your sexy new lingerie under your clothes!!!

Step five: strut your whole self out of that bathroom!!!! Pose also!!!!!

Step six: tell your birthday boy to unwrap his present!!!!!!

Step one had been simple. Hua Cheng had welcomed him warmly at the door; pressing a kiss to his forehead, the tip of his nose, and finishing with a sweet, chaste kiss to his mouth. At the sight of the love in his expression, at the curve of his lips as he pulled back and rested his forehead against Xie Lian’s…Xie Lian immediately initiated step two and ran off to the bathroom, locking himself in.

Hua Cheng had immediately called after him, concerned, and Xie Lian had begged his pardon, his patience – he’d just – he’d eaten some bad yogurt, that was all, and he needed a few minutes. He’d be out soon.

Step three (which was also step four, honestly; Shi Qing Xuan got a little too excited to pay attention to numbers when plotting was afoot) was simple enough. It was easy to hide the…birthday surprise…under the oversized sweaters and shapeless thrift-store jeans that made up the majority of his wardrobe. The lingerie was gauzy, lacey; gleaming pearl-white and nearly translucent against his skin, such a contrast with the ever-present black choker around his neck. He slid his jeans off easily, and tried to adjust his garter belt the way Shi Qing Xuan had shown him, without ripping his thigh-high stockings in the process. He gave up after a few attempts, snapping one of the straps against his thigh irritably.

This was the point where he had first glimpsed himself in the mirror, and noticed that his panties – the ones that Shi Qing Xuan had spotted in the store and instantly insisted he wear – had a heart-shaped cutout in the back, framed with a big silky bow, showcasing his butt for the world to see. The lace was so thin, the fabric so sheer, that touching him here would hardly be any different than touching bare skin. This began the crisis that drove Xie Lian into the bathtub, preventing all hope of going through with step five in the foreseeable future. He would remain in this tub, in what passed as underwear by some bizarre standard, and proceed to ruin Hua Cheng’s birthday; just as he always knew he would.

Xie Lian heard whimpering at the bathroom door, and the sounds of pawing. This proved to be catalyst enough to prod him out of the tub. He bustled over to the door and bent down, peering under the gap between the door and the floor. A single, blood-red eye stared intently back at him. There came more whimpering, and then a pink, slobbery tongue questing under the door to swipe Xie Lian’s face.

“It’s alright,” Xie Lian soothed. “Good boy, E-ming. I’m fine, I’ll be out to pet you soon.”

The thought of having to wait a moment longer for Xie Lian to pet him seemed to only upset E-ming more, and the whimpering and crying redoubled in force and volume. Xie Lian moved away before that tongue got him again, and took a deep breath. He really had to come out, now – E-ming was the size of a direwolf and had the emotional neediness of a toddler, and Xie Lian doubted Hua Cheng’s bathroom door would be able to withstand much more pawing.

Xie Lian spotted a red silk robe hanging on a hook and took it down to shrug it on over his not-really-clothes. Hua Cheng probably wore this when he was fresh out of the shower. He was probably usually naked under it, considering the shower thing. Wet and naked. Xie Lian needed to stop thinking about this.

The moment he opened the door, E-ming’s long black snout poked through the crack, and he was able to project the sounds of his crying directly into Xie Lian’s face. Quite literally, considering he was a very big and tall boy. Xie Lian made comforting noises, and scooped him up, cradling his massive body in his arms as if he was a wee puppy.

“I kinda wanted to get you some like, lacy opera gloves to wear,” Shi Qing Xuan had said, squeezing Xie Lian’s bicep. “But I don’t think anything’s gonna fit over this gun show you’ve got going on.”

Xie Lian would pass on the opera gloves and keep his muscles, thank you very much. They were hard-won, and far more useful than some flimsy decorative gloves – for example, he would not be able to carry around three hundred pounds of crying dog otherwise.

“Gege? Are you alright?”

He heard Hua Cheng shifting around in the living room, and swallowed hard.

“I’m—I’m fine! Don’t come in here, just…go sit on the couch and close your eyes. Don’t peek.”

There was a pause as Hua Cheng processed the request, but he made no protest.

“Of course.”

Shy and awkward and completely unappealing as he felt, Xie Lian still didn’t want to spoil the surprise. And if Hua Cheng saw him wearing his silk robes, carrying his giant half-wolf-half-bear-half-horse-half-shadowbeast-probably-a-dog around like a baby, well…well, that would probably spoil the surprise? Maybe.

Xie Lian settled E-ming onto his dog bed, and stroked his head a few times before bidding him to stay put for a while. Exhausted from his emotions, E-ming sighed and settled his enormous head onto his front paws, and was asleep in seconds. Xie Lian patted him once more, smiling. Such a good, sweet boy. He couldn’t understand why more people didn’t see past his exterior – his exterior being an enormous black dog with blood-red eyes and a booming bark that could shatter glass, but still.

With E-ming tended to, there was to be no more dawdling. Xie Lian clutched at the breast of his borrowed robes and breathed deeply. Even if – even if Hua Cheng didn’t like this “present”, maybe they could at least have a good laugh about it, and Hua Cheng could tell him what he really wanted. Xie Lian could try to bake him a cake, maybe.

Hua Cheng’s penthouse apartment was large, but comparatively little of it was lived in. Hua Cheng scoffed at the idea of entertaining any guests other than Xie Lian (and occasionally Shi Qing Xuan and Ming Yi, when the former insisted on dropping in and the latter was bodily dragged along), and any guest receiving rooms seemed to be decorated with this disdain in mind: stylishly decorated with the most obnoxiously expensive and outrageously uncomfortable furniture, with unnerving and aggressively surreal artwork lining the walls. It seemed to serve less as a home, and more as a symbol of Hua Cheng’s self-made business empire.

When he and Xie Lian had first reconnected, the only room in the house that had any signs of life was his own bedroom – as if he’d never really felt the need to grow out of the art-student-in-a-rundown-studio-apartment mindset. It evoked a sort of warm nostalgia in Xie Lian, but still – he did feel the urge to suggest some…expansion. Hua Cheng’s art supplies and the fumes that accompanied them were moved to a proper studio room, his gaming equipment was hooked up in the living room, facing the couch, so Xie Lian could sit next to him and watch in polite confusion while he talked to Ming Yi over his headset and engaged in relentless trolling campaigns against foulmouthed players who had the same lack of maturity and emotional control that Xie Lian associated with his cousin. It already felt like a more comfortable place to live – and Hua Cheng deserved a comfortable, welcoming home.

Shyly, Xie Lian peeked into the living room. True to his promise about waiting patiently, Hua Cheng was seated on the couch, hands folded politely in his lap. True to his promise about not peeking, he had swapped his eyepatch over to the other eye. Xie Lian felt a laugh bubble up from his chest, relieving some of his tension.

“San Lang.”

Hua Cheng tilted his head and twiddled his thumbs. “Hmm? I hear a lovely voice calling for me.”

Xie Lian stepped into the room properly.

“You—you can look now.”

Hua Cheng moved his eyepatch back over, opening his good eye just in time to see Xie Lian slide the robe off his shoulders; letting it pool on the ground around his feet.

“H-happy birthday.”

He’d never really noticed how chilly Hua Cheng kept his apartment. He supposed it was usually because he was dressed in more layers than…this. He shivered, and wrapped one arm around himself. Hua Cheng wasn’t saying anything, and Xie Lian couldn’t bear to look at him. He really should’ve just tried making a cake.

“It’s…it’s okay if you don’t like it, or if you don’t want to—”

“No! No, I…gege. This is…”

Xie Lian nearly jumped out of his skin at Hua Cheng’s exclamation, and finally looked over at him. His face was so, so red. He was staring at Xie Lian, jaw tense and lips just slightly parted. He looked – embarrassed, and eager. And like he was only seconds away from swooping in and pinning Xie Lian to the nearest wall.

It was encouragement enough to walk forward, and sit next to him on the couch. Hua Cheng’s molten gaze didn’t leave him for a moment. Xie Lian might be a thirty-year-old virgin, but he knew Hua Cheng, and he wasn’t stupid.

“…Shi Qing Xuan helped me pick it out,” Xie Lian quietly said, breaking the silence. He continued, trying to figure out a topic of conversation – what did you even talk about when you were about to…do this kind of thing? “And helped me figure out how to put it on. The stockings kept rolling down my legs, so we had to buy the rest of the…architecture…to keep them up. These garter things are a pain, so fiddly to get hooked up…”

Xie Lian snapped one of the garter straps against his thigh again to demonstrate, making an audible noise as the strap connected with his skin – pa! Hua Cheng swayed, glassy-eyed, and briefly looked like he was going to pass out on the spot. Xie Lian grabbed onto his shoulder to steady him, and they locked gazes for a long moment.

That was all it took. They both started laughing, helplessly, melting into each other’s arms for support, for warmth, for no reason at all other than that the other person was there to be held.

“So gege has been plotting with others!” Hua Cheng swooned dramatically backwards, sprawling on the couch with the back of his hand pressed to his forehead. “A plot most devious!”

“Sorry, sorry,” Xie Lian said. He’d allowed himself to be pulled along with Hua Cheng as he toppled himself over, and was laying across his chest. He wasn’t in any mood to move – this was a wonderful way to warm up from the chilly apartment. “There was no way I would’ve been able to figure this out on my own. Shi Qing Xuan buckled me in before I came over, and…”

Hua Cheng peeked his eye open. “…you came wearing that underneath your clothes?” he managed, after a moment or two. “You took the bus like that?”

“Well, yeah. It wasn’t very comfortable, but it wasn’t such a big deal. I might just go without underwear on the way home.”

Hua Cheng’s expression was unreadable. “…tomorrow morning, I’ll call a cab to get you home instead.”

Xie Lian instantly started to protest this generosity. “San Lang, there’s no need, I have a bus pass, I can just…”

The rest of the sentence died in his throat. Tomorrow morning, Hua Cheng had said. Xie Lian supposed that meant he’d just been invited to stay the night. Xie Lian supposed he knew what Hua Cheng wanted to do, tonight. Xie Lian certainly knew what he wanted to do. He squirmed, and buried his reddening face into Hua Cheng’s broad shoulder.

“Gege.”

He felt Hua Cheng’s hand on his back, felt that hand and its long elegant fingers trace down, down his spine. Xie Lian’s face only burned hotter when Hua Cheng’s fingers reached the hem of his panties, and that big ridiculous silk ribbon atop his rear end.

“There’s a bow,” Hua Cheng said aloud, high-pitched and almost hysterical. “Gege, at this rate I won’t make it until my next birthday.”

Xie Lian squirmed and reached back to grab Hua Cheng’s wrist, guiding it even lower until his fingers could brush the outline of that silly heart-shaped cutout, until the palm of his hand was properly settled on the curve of his backside. He could keenly feel the heat of his touch through the gauzy material.

“…look at me.”

Face tucked into the join of his neck and shoulder, Xie Lian felt the rumble of Hua Cheng’s request more than he heard it. Slowly, he picked himself up, and managed to look Hua Cheng in the eye. It…wasn’t as difficult as he thought. Xie Lian was nervous, of course, and unsure, and shy, and completely out of his element. But he was with Hua Cheng, and there was nothing but love and adoration and care in his expression.

Hua Cheng cupped Xie Lian’s face in his hand, and Xie Lian nuzzled into his palm without even so much as a second thought.

“You don’t have to do this if you’re not comfortable.” Hua Cheng’s hand slid back into his hair, and tilted his head down just so, enough for Hua Cheng to press another kiss to his forehead, his brow, his cheek. “Do you want this?”

He wanted. He wanted, and Hua Cheng made him feel like he deserved to have it and so much more. He made him feel like he was something precious, something worth treating gently, something that belonged here, in Hua Cheng’s arms. It was a difficult sentiment to put into words.

(Though, honestly, he thought he’d made himself clear when he marched out of the bathroom in lingerie and put Hua Cheng’s hand on his butt. Maybe he wasn’t being the shy one here.)

“I do,” Xie Lian breathed, turning his face so those roaming lips properly met his own. “San Lang…San Lang!”

The squeak of Hua Cheng’s name that came out of Xie Lian’s mouth sounded almost affronted. Hua Cheng had scooped him up and clambered to his feet with him in tow without so much as a warning – they were having a Moment and they were kissing and now they were not. Xie Lian pouted at Hua Cheng, expecting an explanation for this. As always, Hua Cheng thought his pouty face was just the funniest thing, and he leaned in to press a loud, wet, smacking kiss to his cheek.

“My prince. This San Lang begs your forgiveness for his presumption. Being as I am a hopeless and completely irredeemable romantic, I wish to unwrap my present in the privacy of our bedroom.”

Xie Lian eyes went wide, and his cheeks beet red. He tucked his face against Hua Cheng’s shoulder. Hua Cheng made a low noise that reverberated and shivered its way into Xie Lian’s bones.

“Does my prince accept such a proposal? May I carry you off? Throw you onto my sheets? Put my hands and mouth all over you?”

“San Lang,” Xie Lian whined desperately. The apartment definitely wasn’t chilly anymore. His whole body felt like it was prickling to life with a thousand tiny embers. “Please. Please.”

Hua Cheng was a man who kept his promises.

Alas, a bit too well.

“San—ah!” Xie Lian gasped and clutched at Hua Cheng’s thick, silky hair. This did nothing but encourage him to keep mouthing Xie Lian’s erection through the lace of his panties. The thin fabric was damp from his tongue, and clung to Xie Lian’s skin uncomfortably. “I…oh, please…please, i-it’s your birthday, I should be…I should be…”

Hua Cheng made a savoring noise, and pressed his face more insistently into Xie Lian’s crotch. He breathed in deeply, then cracked open one eye to stare at Xie Lian; his gaze wild and blazing under the mussed fall of his bangs. It made Xie Lian want to cover his face, want to hide in the red silk sheets, want to melt away into Hua Cheng’s mouth. But it was so rude of him! So rude! It was Hua Cheng’s birthday, and he was the one – p-providing service, taking care of Xie Lian. Xie Lian should be the one with his mouth on Hua Cheng; should be the one touching him and making him feel good.

Hua Cheng’s grip was relentless on his thighs; his fingers tangled under the garter straps and under the flimsy stocking fabric. His mouth climbed higher until his lips were pressed to the line of Xie Lian’s hipbone. And oh, those were his teeth –

“Gege. So beautiful, gege. I’m—” Hua Cheng shuddered into silence, and his hips jerked against the mattress. His hands twisted in the straps and lace covering Xie Lian’s body, clutching hard enough to bruise. Xie Lian’s mind raced at the thought. “—I’m sorry. I’m sorry, you deserve more, I wanted…I wanted to—”

“San Lang.” Xie Lian stroked that lovely head of his, and waited until he looked up at him again. “Lay on your back? Against the pillows.”

Stiffly, as if he could hardly control his limbs, Hua Cheng clambered into position as requested. Xie Lian crawled to him, slowly, taking in the sight before him. Pale skin, midnight-black hair, muscles shifting under Xie Lian’s touches. He was just so lovely, his San Lang. Xie Lian reached out to trace up his long legs, bidding him to bring his knees up and apart. He’d managed to get Hua Cheng’s shirt up and off his head before Hua Cheng had dove in between his legs, but hadn’t gotten the chance to free him from his trousers quite yet. Xie Lian eyed the – rather large tent in the fabric. He thought of Hua Cheng flipping him on his stomach, yanking his panties to the side, and sliding that big thing into him. His thighs shifted against each other, seeking friction to relieve the rush of want.

Hua Cheng made a small, desperate noise when Xie Lian went for his belt and zipper, carefully and gently tugging the fabric down until he could get a good hold on his erection. It was…well, it was intimidating, sure, but it was also just so cute. Xie Lian brushed his fingers against the tip, experimentally, and Hua Cheng gasped aloud and scrabbled for purchase on the sheets. Cool on the outside, but just as cute as can be on the inside. Just like all of Hua Cheng.

Xie Lian didn’t really know exactly what to do next, but, well, he was creative, and he thought it would be rather nice to have a taste of Hua Cheng. He smiled up at Hua Cheng, stuck out his tongue at him, and before Hua Cheng could try to be a gentleman and tell him he didn’t have to, he dove in and swiped his tongue across the tip of his cock.

“Gege!”

That didn’t sound like a shout of pain, so Xie Lian figured he wasn’t doing too badly so far. He looked up at Hua Cheng, trying to carefully judge his reactions as he put his mouth more properly on his cock. Hua Cheng looked like he was – about to ascend to the heavens, about to die. About to cry, even. Xie Lian made a concerned noise, and stroked his free hand against the back of Hua Cheng’s own, where it fisted white-knuckled into the sheets. It was nice to know that he wasn’t the only one nervous, here. Xie Lian smiled up at him, lips curling around the tip of Hua Cheng’s cock—

Hua Cheng gasped, and one hand flew up to grab at Xie Lian’s hair and yank him back. Something hot and salty flooded his mouth and spilled over his lips as Hua Cheng’s cock slipped out, dribbling down his chin and onto the red sheets. Xie Lian lifted a hand to catch any further mess, only belatedly realizing that he could probably swallow instead of drooling all over himself. He gulped down the remainder of the stuff, feeling it slide thickly down his throat and into his belly. Not bad. He knew his palette was…questionable, but he didn’t hate the taste of it, not at all.

Xie Lian swiped his thumb across his chin and lower lip to try and clean himself, and was turning over the idea of licking his fingers clean before Hua Cheng lurched forward and collided into him, knocking him onto his back on the bed.

“You are going to kill me,” Hua Cheng croaked out, sounding half-dead already.

“Hmm?” Xie Lian tilted his head to the side. “Did I not manage? Should I try again?”

“Oh, please, let’s,” Hua Cheng purred in his ear. “Though I think I’d like to return the favor.”

Xie Lian had always thought his San Lang had lovely hands. Long and elegant fingers, a strong and warm grip to hold Xie Lian’s hand in turn. Those long pretty fingers proved to be talented and gentle and relentless, sliding into Xie Lian and working him open until he was ready for him, so ready, so ready, please, San Lang, put it in me, I need you.

Once he was fully seated inside him, Hua Cheng heaved a sigh that was at least partially a sob and rested his forehead against Xie Lian’s. He was such a gentleman, so kind to Xie Lian, so kind and patient, waiting until Xie Lian adjusted to that thick, hard cock of his instead of just grabbing onto his hips and fucking him inside-out.

“San Lang,” Xie Lian breathed into his ear. He squeezed down on him, and tilted his hips up, insistent. “San Lang.”

Such a gentleman, such a gentleman. He tried so hard, his sweet San Lang, to go slow, afraid of hurting him. Xie Lian kept squeezing on him, kept tugging his hair, kept crying out his praises until Hua Cheng’s patience and remaining composure finally broke. He was such a gentleman, until he wasn’t. Xie Lian found himself being nearly bent in two; his legs over Hua Cheng’s shoulders, in the perfect position for Hua Cheng to fuck him deep and hard and desperate.

His San Lang was so pretty. Xie Lian couldn’t imagine a lovelier sight than this: Hua Cheng’s furrowed brow, his eyes wild and intense and fixated directly on Xie Lian, his mouth open and wet and panting out praises, exhalations, panting Xie Lian’s name. It didn’t take long for Xie Lian to reach his own release, with the feeling of Hua Cheng’s body on his, in him. Distantly, as he was riding on the last waves of it, he felt Hua Cheng’s warmth spread inside of him, filling him up. Ah. No matter what hole he took his San Lang into, the results were so wonderfully sweet. He could get used to this.

Xie Lian cradled Hua Cheng’s head against his chest, stroking his hair and allowing him to gather his senses. After a moment or two to catch his own breath, Xie Lian turned his head to the side, frowning at the nagging sense that someone was watching.

E-ming stood at the side of the bed, waiting patiently, holding his favorite butterfly toy in his massive jaws. His tail began to wag once Xie Lian’s attention was on him, stirring up a small tornado in the room. He delicately put a paw on the bed, indicating his intent.

“E-ming,” Xie Lian said firmly. “Wait.”

E-ming began to shake and whimper, putting more weight onto his paw, pushing the issue.

“Not right now. No cuddle time. No bedtime yet.”

Hua Cheng grumbled and tried to get up. “I’ll take care of him, gege. It’s my cuddle time.”

Xie Lian cunningly distracted him with a kiss, and slipped out from under him and off the bed to escort E-ming out of the room and back to his dog bed. He heard the shower start up on the way back, and was intercepted and stripped of the lingerie that had survived the bedroom before being bustled into the shower alongside Hua Cheng to clean up.

“Was this…was this enough?”

Hua Cheng hummed happily. “The loveliest and most precious gift I have ever received. The heavens themselves could not bless me more.”

Xie Lian’s cheeks reddened, even after everything. Honestly, he’d hoped he was going to be less easy to fluster after this.

“I thought—I thought I could bake you a cake, maybe? A birthday cake.”

“That sounds delicious, gege. Did you have a recipe in mind?”

Xie Lian squirmed off the couch, straightening out the oversized shirt he was wearing that he’d borrowed from Hua Cheng to keep himself decent. “I did! You can just – you can stay in here so it’s a surprise?”

Hua Cheng smiled sweetly at him, and folded his hands on his lap like a patient schoolboy. “Of course. I can’t wait to see what gege bakes for me.”

And he had a broom closet full of fire extinguishers, just in case.

#天官赐福 #tgcf #heavenly official's blessing #tian guan ci fu #hualian #a tenderly crafted fanfiction

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