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At this time of night, they should have been asleep.
Yet they weren’t. They hadn’t slept at a decent hour for over a month, whether that be from newly discovered insomnia, thoughts of the past or future that plagued them (this was more often Lu Guang, who’s mind tended to race much easier), recovery pains that crept up on them in the growing cold, their bodies remembering bullets and knives, or—whatever this was.
Cheng Xiaoshi never thought he’d have his best friend stretched across the couch like this. His hips arching and shaking, his back and legs sprawled out while he gripped his cock in his hand. All because he’d been asked to. Because Cheng Xiaoshi muttered something about being good or obedient and it had Lu Guang falling over himself to comply.
If he was ever asked exactly what he said in that moment, he wouldn’t be able to remember.
He’d have to dive to figure it out.
Because Lu Guang mewled up at him—eyes glowing impossibly blue and yellow, the colors bleeding into each other—and Cheng Xiaoshi found himself pulled back into the present time. There was no watching himself over his shoulder, no taking into account every word, every action. No thinking about the past and future and the horrid possibilities. He didn’t need to do that here.
There was only his best friend, his roommate, his—partner. There were only his eyes and the way he sounded. The trembling of his body against the cold of the night, and his own careful fingers sliding underneath his bare back to hold him.
Cheng Xiaoshi’s eyes were burning, but he didn’t want to blink. He couldn’t take his eyes off him. Not now. One second away felt like too much time lost.
To think it had all started with a dive, just like everything else did.
When they’d first stumbled upon it, it was an accident.
A month had gone by, and they were still taking it easy on jobs, as per Lu Guang’s request. Nothing but developing photos for a while. They’d done enough to last them a lifetime. Or two. It didn’t help that Lu Guang knew they were using borrowed time. Stolen time. One of them shouldn’t have been there. Sometimes he wished it would have been him instead.
There was no need to think like that now. Their new present was stable. They were both still here.
To keep it that way, they needed to lay low. Stop testing fate for a while longer. Or maybe stop diving all together. He’d never bring that up to Cheng Xiaoshi though—the thought of stopping their business altogether. Annulling their partnership.
That would’ve been too much for either of them to bear. Still, Lu Guang wished there was still a way for them to feel connected without a dive. Bonding over adrenaline and trauma could only take them so far until they were both on the brink of death again.
Lu Guang couldn’t keep watching his best friend die. Once was enough. He could still see it in his nightmares. Could still feel his body, lifeless in his arms, eyes without a soul behind them.
He needed plans in place. Safety nets and words and anything else that could prevent things from going too far. That would take time. That would take so much time, and an understanding of things practically out of his control. He wanted to wait until he could make sure that Cheng Xiaoshi could remain untouched, untraced, and unmarked by death.
Yet he could see how the lack of purpose wore at his friend. Now that they had centered their lives around diving, there was nothing that could take its place. Cheng Xiaoshi got restless after a while, and a restless Cheng Xiaoshi was a dangerous one. Lu Guang didn’t need more incidents on his hands, not with them both recovering.
And this next job would have been easy. Just a mother coming in to ask if they could help her find her son’s car. It had been stolen while he was working at his part-time job. Weeks had gone by with no lead. The family couldn’t afford a new one. They only had enough to try and turn back time.
Qiao Ling brought the case to them because it didn’t seem that intricate. She believed in them. She might have also seen how listless they both were. The strained smiles from Cheng Xiaoshi, and the extra twitch at the ends of Lu Guang’s fingertips. Qiao Ling was more observant than she let on. She was smart in thinking that this might have been what they needed to get them to return to the present. Business as usual.
Lu Guang let her convince him. If they took back their powers—reclaimed them and felt successful instead of helpless for a time—maybe that would smooth things over. She’d said that as if she’d known it was true. Like she had seen the outcome herself. So, Lu Guang trusted her confidence.
Not knowing what they would discover as a result.
It had been a couple of hours into the dive, and there were already signs that Cheng Xiaoshi was off his game. His footing wasn’t steady, and it took him a couple seconds to respond to each instruction Lu Guang gave him. It was like he wasn’t fully connected to the body he was inhabiting.
“What’s going on?” Lu Guang asked.
“It’s fine,” Cheng Xiaoshi said. “Too much time away. It’s like I have to get used to it all over again.”
It didn’t take them long to find the culprit and get an address. It had been a petty thief, as expected. The area where the car was stolen wasn’t known for any gang violence or mafia connections. Simple case. Easy money. No timeline crises.
Qiao Ling was right. This was a good thing. This was what they had needed.
Lu Guang remained quiet as Cheng Xiaoshi fed him the information. He could hear Cheng Xiaoshi call out his name to confirm that Lu Guang had heard. Before everything, Lu Guang could ignore him for a bit, waiting until he was done copying down the info before responding. He was dividing his attention as much as it was.
That was his mistake.
He could hear Cheng Xiaoshi’s labored breathing through their link, and he was about to check in with him when he heard a clap, and there were hands bearing down on his shoulders. They pushed him back onto the couch, their grip tight. Lu Guang sat there, stunned and gazing up into Cheng Xiaoshi’s frantic eyes. They were still stark yellow. Glittering like wildfire. Consuming.
There were fingers, then a hand, softly pressed against his left side, and Lu Guang froze.
“Please,” Cheng Xiaoshi said. “Don’t go silent on me like that anymore.”
Of all the things he thought of, all the possibilities and consequent reactions, Lu Guang hadn’t thought about what silence meant to Cheng Xiaoshi now.
There was an insistent tug in his mind, one pulling him into Cheng Xiaoshi’s eyes, telling him how badly he fucked up. He could practically feel the anxiety coming off his roommate in waves of frantic static. Again, another sharp tug, and this time, he figured out that it wasn’t just his own sting of guilt.
It was coming through their link. Cheng Xiaoshi was the one pulling.
Lu Guang didn’t exactly know what he needed, or what he was trying to tell him, but he knew that tugging in the opposite direction wouldn’t be the way to go right now. Lu Guang took a deep breath and let the thread of their connection flood him again—surprisingly strong for being outside a dive—then into Cheng Xiaoshi.
His roommate finally took a deep breath himself. His shoulders slumped, though he didn’t let go of Lu Guang. There was a cautious thumb sliding across his shirt, retracing the pattern of the knifed scarring, so tender it made Lu Guang’s stomach twist until he felt nauseous.
There were tears in Cheng Xiaoshi’s eyes. Lu Guang could see him remembering.
“I’m sorry. I won’t do that again,” Lu Guang said. “Sorry.”
He hoped that would be enough to settle him. He didn’t know how much more of this soft touch he could stand before he wanted more of it. He was caught between wanting to shove him off and pull him in closer.
Cheng Xiaoshi did not remove his hands. If anything, his grip grew slightly tighter on his shoulder, even more delicate over his scar. Only his face truly and noticeably changed into a wide, blinking, surprised kind of expression. “Your voice,” he said. “It’s still in my head.”
“What?” Lu Guang blinked too. He shook his head. He could hear Cheng Xiaoshi as well, like a small echo in his mind. “It shouldn’t be.”
It was strange to hear him like this, still linked to his conscious thoughts while he heard him speak so clearly just inches away.
“Your eyes turned blue.”
That was even more strange. Lu Guang didn’t recall activating his power. Only messing with the intensity of their connection. Which shouldn’t have been connected at all at this point.
“And yours are still yellow,” he muttered.
Cheng Xiaoshi frowned. “What the hell?”
Much to Lu Guang’s chagrin, even with that revelation, he didn’t move his damn hands. “Would you sit down for a second?” he said.
He was shocked by how quickly Cheng Xiaoshi seemed to snap out of it and move. Or maybe he didn’t snap out of anything at all, because as he flopped down beside him, he could still see those yellow irises flashing. Were they being targeted again? Was there someone out there with the ability to cause malfunctions with their connection?
Lu Guang knew he couldn’t freak out about that right now. Not with how frazzled and drained Cheng Xiaoshi looked. He just had to find something he could control. His side of the connection was the only thing he could think of.
“I’ll try to pull back,” he said, closing his eyes to try and focus in on what kept them locked together. As soon as he tried to tug it loose, there was an immediate pushback. Whatever it was strengthened its hold. And yet it felt warm. Familiar.
“Don’t leave. Wait.” Cheng Xiaoshi was wheezing on the other side of the couch. Like whatever Lu Guang did had pained him. “I think I’m keeping us connected.”
“How?”
“I’m not sure? I…I don’t…”
Now that he knew that it was only Cheng Xiaoshi, he didn’t mind keeping their connection for a while. Perhaps they didn’t know as much about their abilities as they thought they did. Knowing now that there were others like them, there were unspeakable possibilities for how these powers could mix and match, possibly even evolve. If they learned to control this, whatever was happening, it could be a good asset to them during future cases.
Yet, as he gazed at his roommate, watched his shallow breathing and distracted eyes, that didn’t matter much anymore. He tentatively felt at their connection and how firmly the brunette was holding on. Lu Guang tried to ease the strain. “It’s okay, Cheng Xiaoshi,” he whispered. “You don’t need to hold it so tight. I’m staying.”
A small release of pressure along the thread. Cheng Xiaoshi’s breath steadied.
Maybe this wasn’t something that would help their business at all. This could be something just for them.
He reached out and took Cheng Xiaoshi’s hand. “Try to relax,” he said, attempting to make the words feel a certain way in his partner’s mind. Soft and gentle, like those fingers along his healing skin. “I’m right here.”
This was a wound for Cheng Xiaoshi—battered, sore, and deep—and Lu Guang didn’t have the luxury of scar tissue to figure out where it was.
Apparently, he didn’t need to tonight.
What he had done was enough.
Soon after he joined their hands, there was a complete release of their connection.
Lu Guang missed it once it was gone. But the soft, contented snores at his side made up for the sudden lack. He wrapped Cheng Xiaoshi in a blanket they kept draped over the couch—just in case. It wouldn’t be the first time they slept like this. Many dives left them too tired to stand.
But this time, Lu Guang was braver than usual. Instead of giving his roommate space, like he was comfortable with, he coaxed his head down to lay on his shoulder. Then he reached out with the end of his link, lightly, imagining it playing with the strands of Cheng Xiaoshi’s ponytail. If there was a chance that he could still feel him in his dreams, Lu Guang wanted to be there.
“Can’t sleep?”
It was a question they asked each other a lot during their hospital stay.
They had often stayed up together, the staff being nice enough to move their beds into the same room. The meds either kept them awake or made them feel weird, so they often passed the time by talking. Making up stupid word games. Recounting the awful and super vivid nightmares, and sometimes the random fever dream. Probably still the medication’s fault.
When Cheng Xiaoshi asked this question tonight, he expected much of the same. But he didn’t want to blame the hospital anymore. He didn’t even want to remember how many hours and days and weeks they’d both spent there. They were home now. It was in the past.
What he didn’t expect was for Lu Guang to barely look up from the broth he’d heated up in their tiny, hidden microwave.
He’d gotten into the habit of sipping chicken broth when he couldn’t find it in him to rest. Yet another special habit from the hospital. The nurses wouldn’t bring them coffee or tea because of the caffeine. They needed rest, which caffeine would certainly not give them, plus Lu Guang was going to deal with digestion issues for a few more weeks yet. Injuries like that affected more than just posture.
But Lu Guang didn’t complain. Not like Cheng Xiaoshi might have.
Still, he didn’t like this unresponsiveness. That meant the night was already going poorly for him.
Cheng Xiaoshi continued as if his roommate had answered him. “Same. Maybe we got too used to late night dives,” he said. “Why can’t fucked up shit happen at three in the afternoon?”
He chuckled at himself, even if he knew he wasn’t that funny. Sometimes that worked with Lu Guang. Got him to smile a little. More often it didn’t, but Cheng Xiaoshi liked to try anyways.
This time, it’d actually paid off. The more analytical side of Lu Guang took the rhetorical question at face value. “Darkness is useful cover,” he said. “And for those who mean harm, there aren’t a whole lot of people awake to catch you.”
“So, we have to become insomniacs to make up for it?” Cheng Xiaoshi huffed. “Lame.”
He walked over to the counter where they usually received requests for photo printing, casually sliding crossed arms over the top. He leaned his chin on his forearms, taking in the white button-up cat pajamas Lu Guang was wearing.
He was kind of surprised he hadn’t gotten rid of them yet. He thought they might remind him of the shit he went through. The tiny cat doodle above the pocket didn’t really match his stern face either.
He hadn’t bled in them yet, however, so that was a plus.
Qiao Ling had suggested they do a quick shopping trip the day after they’d gotten Lu Guang settled at the hospital, to pick up anything he might have needed. They had rushed him there so fast; he didn’t have anything from home. When they both saw the matching set, they knew they had to grab it. It was good quality. They each paid for half.
Cheng Xiaoshi didn’t see the harm in it, though he could imagine his roommate’s annoyance at being doted on. That was another reason why Cheng Xiaoshi thought he’d ditch them as soon as they were out. But no, he still used them pretty regularly.
“I haven’t had the chance to say how cute those pajamas look on you,” Cheng Xiaoshi said, smiling.
Lu Guang still didn’t look up at him. “It was kind of you to pick them out.”
“Qiao Ling did too.”
That got a small smirk out of his roommate, eyes still downcast. “She told me she helped pay, but also said you specifically picked them out.”
Cheng Xiaoshi scratched his scalp, his eyebrows furrowed. Either Qiao Ling was being an impromptu wingman (which she had offered many a time, even before he’d asked Lu Guang if he’d like to move in with him), or he actually did grab them that fast. It was kind of a blur of a week. He just assumed they were in agreement about it.
“Then, sure. I have great taste.” Cheng Xiaoshi laughed. “And I know you too well. You are practically a cat after all.”
Lu Guang inhaled, as if he were gathering his strength (or maybe trying hard not to roll his eyes) and took a sip of the broth. “Since we’re both up,” he said. “I think we need to discuss something.”
Cheng Xiaoshi had a feeling they would. “You mean what happened yesterday?” he asked.
Lu Guang nodded, taking another sip of broth. It was too weird not to talk about.
Cheng Xiaoshi didn’t know he could prolong their connection like that. He was also kind of concerned that he didn’t have much control over it until it was already done. He clung onto their link, holding them together by force because he was too afraid of what would happen if he let go. Which, in itself, was pretty stupid. He shouldn’t have been worried. Things were better now.
He felt the stab wound. It was healing. It wasn’t open anymore, even though he could swear that Lu Guang might have unknowingly opened it again. It’d happened so often, Cheng Xiaoshi had been afraid to touch him for weeks.
But that silence. That had been too much. He needed to see and feel his partner. Feel both his body and mind. Make sure they were still intact and safe and—
Lu Guang was looking at him now. Studying him. He’d caught himself spiraling, and now his roommate did too.
Cheng Xiaoshi nodded, signaling he was open to the conversation. His quiet reflection wasn’t scary or something to worry about. Nothing to see here. “I’ve been thinking about it, too,” he added, in case his usual smile didn’t work.
Lu Guang’s expression only darkened. So, it didn’t work. Great.
“I have a theory,” he said.
“Do tell.” Cheng Xiaoshi leaned in on his elbows. He enjoyed listening to Lu Guang’s theories.
“I don’t think you’re going to like it.”
“I’ve survived bad news before, Lu Guang.”
His roommate clenched his teeth. Cheng Xiaoshi could see his jaw tense. Why was that the wrong thing to say? Not that he’d ever know the answer to that. Lu Guang was patient, but not patient enough to explain his every inflection and micro-expression. Even though Cheng Xiaoshi really wanted to know even more about him. Even though he could infer a lot from one breath, one glare, one step, one touch.
Lu Guang leaned his hip against the counter, on the side opposite the scar. “Our powers seem to respond to our bodies. The physical condition we’re in. Like when I was injured, I couldn’t see as far into the photographs.”
“Right. You told us,” Cheng Xiaoshi confirmed. “It makes sense. The powers use our energy when we use them. I’ve felt that.”
“What if they’re starting to respond to our mental states too.”
“Huh?”
“You panicked when I didn’t respond.”
“Yeah.” Something he wasn’t proud of at all.
“Then you latched onto the connection.”
“Right.” Something he shouldn’t have done, even if he was scared.
“And then you moved it. You pulled it to you.”
Something he—what?
“I did?” Cheng Xiaoshi asked. How was that possible? He didn’t remember doing that. Or was he really that out of control with it that he didn’t know what the fuck he was doing?
“Yes,” Lu Guang said. “Then you said my eyes turned blue, right?”
That, Cheng Xiaoshi did remember. He remembered when too. “Right before you said sorry.”
Lu Guang tilted his head and regarded him, completing his thesis as if it were fact. And it might have been. “I think you reached out with your power, and then mine responded,” he said.
“A call and response?” Cheng Xiaoshi asked. “We’ve never been able to do that before.”
“Which is why I think it has something to do with us. We’ve dealt with a lot of traumatic experiences in a short amount of time,” Lu Guang clarified. “That can rewire how the brain processes information. And if our brains are rewired, then maybe it’s affecting how we use our powers.”
Ah. So, this was quickly becoming one of those theories that was way over Cheng Xiaoshi’s head. He also didn’t love what Lu Guang was implying either. That there was something going on with them. That they weren’t back to normal. That they might never be.
“Dial it back a bit. You’re losing me,” he said. “Are you saying our powers are changing because we’re traumatized?”
Lu Guang sighed and took one last sip of the broth. He set it to the side, and when he looked back up at Cheng Xiaoshi, his eyes seemed to pin him down where he stood. He couldn’t move or look away if he tried. “When was the last time you jumped out of a dive because you couldn’t hear me?” he asked.
“When you were—”
Stabbed. Cheng Xiaoshi didn’t want to say it, didn’t want the damn word in his mouth, fearing he would invite another evil presence into their home again to do the same. To hurt his partner. “Fine, I get it.”
He might have had to start admitting to himself that he was traumatized. Still. Even more than before. He thought he had gotten over most of it. Lu Guang and Qiao Ling helped him through a lot. But there was something about abandonment, about being alone, about the hurt of knowing that those close to him disappeared or got hurt or—
A firm hand closed itself around Cheng Xiaoshi’s forearm. Steadfast, kind, warmed by a bowl of broth. “I knew you wouldn’t like it,” Lu Guang said.
They talked a lot to each other during their nights at the hospital, yet they never really brought up the stabbing. They were reluctant to, even with the officers that were helping them, keeping it to the bland facts and sequence of events. Qiao Ling didn’t bring it up either, and she probably had more guilt about it than they did.
But that wasn’t the only thing that was bothering Cheng Xiaoshi. He had freaked out when things were fine. Was he going to turn everything into a crisis from now on? And he’d practically forced Lu Guang to stay with him. The poor guy was trying to recover himself from all this shit. He didn’t need Cheng Xiaoshi to pile more of the trauma on. Geez, it made him feel sick to think about
“I feel bad I did that to you,” he said. “You didn’t ask to be held captive.”
“I wasn’t.” Lu Guang rounded the counter now. Grey eyes icy with their resolve. He placed both hands on Cheng Xiaoshi’s shoulders, hands still warm and gentle against him, but he looked scared. Like he was trying to talk Cheng Xiaoshi down from assuming the worst. Or from doing something stupid.
Was that who he’d become now? The type to assume the worst, then act out?
“I said it was something about us, right? I let you in, Cheng Xiaoshi. I wanted to.”
For all the reassurance he was given, his roommate still wasn’t saying something. Withholding thoughts that increased that spark in his eyes, fueled his urgency to calm him. “Lu Guang,” Cheng Xiaoshi said. “Why can’t you sleep tonight?”
Was it a nightmare? Intrusive thoughts? Phantom pains? For some reason, Cheng Xiaoshi knew it wasn’t any of those. Lu Guang still had something he wasn’t telling a soul.
“It’s nothing.”
Cheng Xiaoshi was right. There were some secrets that couldn’t be shared. Even between them, as partners. If diving had taught him anything, it was that. He might tell him one day, but it wouldn’t be now.
Yet maybe he didn’t have to know what was wrong in order to support him.
“I’ll let you pull this time,” he offered. “If you want to experiment.”
Lu Guang lifted his hands, looking stunned. “It was just a theory—”
“And theories are tested right?”
“Yes, but—”
“If our powers are trying to help us, why don’t we let them?”
He gave him a small smile, as encouraging as he could make it without seeming too eager, then made his way to the couch. They’d spent plenty of nights there. It would be as comfortable as anything. And if they were sleepless already, then the bunk bed wouldn’t do them many favors.
If his roommate asked, he would readily admit he wanted that connection back, to feel Lu Guang in his head and remind himself of how lucky he was. How grateful he was that he could still be here with him, after near-death and emotional hell.
But he’d let Lu Guang decide. They’d had unspoken agreements like this before, where one would walk away, leaving the other the choice to follow or stay put. They didn’t always follow. They didn’t always stay put. Such a habit now between then, used when they wanted to make an honest choice.
Either way, Cheng Xiaoshi would learn more about Lu Guang’s boundaries. That was a win for him.
He was fairly convinced by the time he got to the coffee table that Lu Guang wasn’t following. So, when he turned to lounge on the couch cushions, he nearly fell backwards, surprised by how close Lu Guang had trailed him without making a sound.
Lu Guang gazed at him curiously for a moment, then was back to intense as he settled beside him. “I’m not sure how to do what you did,” he said.
“Do you think you can activate your power without a photo?”
“I never have on purpose,” Lu Guang sighed. “It only ever happened last night. I didn’t even realize until you told me.”
“Now’s the time to try, I guess,” Cheng Xiaoshi said. He pointed to his temple, close to his right eye. “I’ll let you know if I see them change.”
Lu Guang hunched over himself, placing his elbows on his knees and bowing his head.
It must’ve been hard to call upon a power that needed a tangible object to activate. All Cheng Xiaoshi had to do was clap, and he was able to use it freely. He could even feel it build up beforehand, waiting at the back of his eyes once he was ready to go.
He kind of felt bad for Lu Guang. He might have been asking him to do the impossible.
His roommate tilted his head this way and that. Closed his eyes then opened them. It took a few tries, and a couple of frustrated sighs. Cheng Xiaoshi leaned in unconsciously, all too curious about the process, and when his shoulder brushed against Lu Guang’s, his irises were abruptly saturated with blue.
“There!” Cheng Xiaoshi practically squealed.
“Really?” Lu Guang looked confused. “But you broke my concentration.”
“Then you were thinking too hard.” Cheng Xiaoshi couldn’t control his laughter. They both thought way too hard about everything now. He wondered if they’d ever stop.
He remembered the days when he didn’t really care about consequences. When he didn’t think twice about inviting that gorgeous guy watching him play basketball to join in. Quite literally shoot his shot right in front of him.
And that gorgeous guy would ignore his subtle flirting all the way through college and into the present, either not picking up on it or chopping it up to the overexuberance of an extrovert. Cheng Xiaoshi had always been afraid to correct him on it, too. To let him know all the flirting was real, and he enjoyed having him in his life, and there were so many more reasons he wanted to live with him other than the rent situation.
Looking into those eyes now, more open and beautiful than ever, had him feeling giddy again, like that day on the court. “Wow,” Cheng Xiaoshi breathed, taking in how they shimmered like crystals. “If I thought they were pretty before…”
Lu Guang immediately closed his eyes and pressed his fingertips into his forehead, like he was holding off a headache. Cheng Xiaoshi didn’t miss the slight flush of pink along his ears though.
He’d been a little more open about being flustered recently, and Cheng Xiaoshi was enjoying it. If he was reading into things, he’d also think he’d been touching him more than usual, ever since they returned home. Cheng Xiaoshi was not about to complain about that either.
“Now what?” Lu Guang asked.
“Dunno. I’ll activate mine too.” It was as easy as saying his roommate’s name in his sleep (which he definitely did not do, nor did he accidentally wake himself up saying it). He saw the reflection of yellow in blue and excitedly asked, “Anything?”
“Not yet,” Lu Guang murmured. “How were you able to feel our link?”
A very good, astute question that Cheng Xiaoshi wished he had an easy answer to. But all he had was a vulnerable one that he wasn’t too keen on saying. He was fine having mini meltdowns in his head, and for Lu Guang to suspect and say nothing, but admitting that things weren’t okay had him feeling faint. Like his blood vessels were constricting. He could already feel his heart rate increase too.
Lu Guang had seen him at his worst, supposedly. Hell, he forgave him for punching him. But what if this was even worse than that?
His desperation embarrassed him.
Yet he saw it reflected back to him in blue.
Then he recalled how Lu Guang had reacted to him getting shot. The punches he threw. Harder than any he’d ever seen Lu Guang muster. His stitches tearing further across his body, more and more blood, yet it was like he didn’t feel it.
Cheng Xiaoshi was scared to think it, in case he was mistaken, but it was possible Lu Guang needed him just as much. He might understand.
Then Cheng Xiaoshi began to repeat a close cluster of thoughts he’d only said to himself until now. “I only know that I needed you when it happened. I needed you to be okay. I needed to know you were still here—”
“Cheng Xiaoshi.” His name was two-fold in his ears. One coming in from Lu Guang’s mouth, the other in his mind. “It’s okay.”
“Whoa.” Cheng Xiaoshi’s grinned wide. He felt so much affection fill him, having their connection back and with the way Lu Guang called to him. He couldn’t hide his fondness as he said, “There you are.”
Cheng Xiaoshi did not see the blush spreading across Lu Guang’s face. He was too intrigued by the small speckles of yellow he was seeing appear in Lu Guang’s irises. They weren’t a part of his own eye’s reflection. They were actually embedded, intertwining with the blue. He wondered what his own eyes looked like right now, if they were doing the same. “How did you figure that out so fast?” he asked.
“It wasn’t that hard,” Lu Guang said.
But a completely different response came into his mind.
You were about to cry.
Cheng Xiaoshi laughed. He could hear Lu Guang’s thoughts. For all the dives they’d been on together, he’d never once heard any of his thoughts. Lu Guang himself confirmed as much, saying he only seemed to hear him when his instructions were spoken out loud.
Well, this was an unexpected gift.
“Hey, I know I ugly cry with the best of them, but it’s not that bad. Is it?” he asked.
Lu Guang gawked at him. He hadn’t known Cheng Xiaoshi could hear.
Cheng Xiaoshi smiled sheepishly. “Right,” he said. “You’re used to reading my thoughts.”
“Did the connection flip somehow?” Lu Guang asked.
The brunette was at a loss there. He knew what usually happened, so he started there. “I pull your link into the past with me, so you can be my guide,” he said. There was that word again: pull. He didn’t know he could pull or manipulate the connection at all before last night. But if that was what was happening, then perhaps the relationship they had with their link hadn’t really changed at all. “Maybe it’s always been like this,” Cheng Xiaoshi suggested. “Whoever pulls is the one who is guided.”
Lu Guang finished the thought. “And the pulled is the one who guides.”
“Exactly.”
Lu Guang scrunched his face, which made him look very much like a disgruntled cat. “Why do you sound so loud now, though?”
“I’m always loud.”
“No, it’s, like, reverberating in my head.”
“Maybe it’s distance? We’re sitting right next to each other when we’re usually timelines apart.”
Lu Guang nodded, as if that really did sound plausible. It was Cheng Xiaoshi’s best guess at the very least. He was better with tangible problem solving, not the theoretical stuff like Lu Guang. But maybe he wasn’t so useless in that department after all. He wouldn’t mind being able to offer some help to Lu Guang if he ever got stuck. If he’d take it, that is.
Then he noticed how troubled his roommate’s expression was. “Is it a bad kind of loud?” he asked.
“No,” Lu Guang said. “It’s just hard to hear myself think.”
“Sounds about right.” That was how it had been when Lu Guang had started talking last night. He’d come out of the dive panicked, then he couldn’t even remember why. It was only that haunting voice in his ears, telling him to rest. Then he woke up on the couch, his head laying against his roommate.
“That’s probably the point.”
“What is?”
“To stop thinking.”
For a moment, Lu Guang’s eyes glazed over.
“Lu Guang?” Cheng Xiaoshi called. “You alright?” He gave the gentlest tug to their link, and Lu Guang only came slightly out of his daze.
“You…” Lu Guang whispered. “You followed directions yesterday, didn’t you.”
“Don’t I usually?”
“No,” Lu Guang practically hissed, voice louder with his honesty. Cheng Xiaoshi couldn’t say he blamed him. He was notorious for following the bare minimum of guidelines. That’s why Lu Guang had only made three concrete rules he couldn’t break.
“When I asked you to sit, you did right away,” Lu Guang continued. “Why? That’s not like you.”
“Because your voice—” Cheng Xiaoshi cut himself off. That was right. There was something about how their voices changed when they were outside of a dive.
He had felt so good listening to how his roommate had sounded last night. Voice loud enough that it drowned out everything else, yet gentle enough to still listen to—get lost in. His words filled his head until there wasn’t much left. “Wait a minute.”
He carefully scooted closer to Lu Guang, hoping his voice wasn’t going to get much louder as he did. He knew his partner wasn’t one for loud noises. If it was too much, he was sure he wouldn’t hesitate to break the link. “Can I touch you?” he asked softly.
Lu Guang’s eyes fluttered, and it was the first time Cheng Xiaoshi heard him sigh without any hint of annoyance. He nodded, eyes now a little dreamier than before.
Cheng Xiaoshi cupped his cheek and tilted his jaw towards him. “Look at me, Lu Guang,” he said.
Lu Guang didn’t resist the request. His eyes were on him in an instant. That’s when Cheng Xiaoshi saw it.
The small slivers of yellow in his eyes were moving now, practically swimming in the refractions of light across the blue. Slow, steady, hypnotic patterns, unfolding steadily in his roommate’s gaze.
Cheng Xiaoshi had never seen anything like it, but somehow, he could follow the patterns. He knew exactly how they were going to move before they did. “It’s the connection. It’s doing something to you,” he said. “Or maybe I am.”
Cheng Xiaoshi tried pulling back his link. Lu Guang tightened his. Tugged him back.
This was more intense than a dive. Way more intense. Diving had been a responsibility he took on to help others, and often times he couldn’t help in the way he wanted. People died. People got hurt. Lu Guang got hurt. And that was just when time travel was involved.
But like this, he could feel every push and pull between them. This close, they could ask each other for closeness without speaking. Like this, it felt like he had his partner’s mind in his hands, caressing it with each word, praying that his hold over him would stay gentle. It felt like one wrong move could scratch him, damage their link and their present. Like a dive, but more intimate.
“I’m letting it,” Lu Guang whispered. “And letting you.”
He made a show of nuzzling into Cheng Xiaoshi’s hand, letting his head lay heavy against him. He trusted him to hold him steady. Not just physically either.
It made Cheng Xiaoshi regret trying to disconnect.
“What’s it feel like?” he asked, bringing his other hand to the other cheek. He stroked his cheekbones while he waited for an answer, watching his roommate’s face gradually relax beneath his touch.
Lu Guang let his eyes close and whispered, “Soothing.” When his eyes flickered open again, they stayed half-lidded, the patterns of yellow and blue moving even slower. “Like every word you say takes everything else away.”
His thoughts expanded on it, trailing off in an absent-minded drawl.
All the suffering. All the hurt. Gone for a few moments.
Cheng Xiaoshi knew he wasn’t aware of him listening in. Still too used to his thoughts being shielded. On another note, it didn’t sound like he was even aware of what he was thinking either. His thoughts seemed to be looser, with less structure to them. Relaxed, with no judgement.
“Do you want to keep going?” Cheng Xiaoshi asked. He slackened his grip on the connection to make a point. “I can let go at any time.”
Lu Guang did the same, mirroring his mental movements. “I can too.”
It brought another bought of clear and strong affection into Cheng Xiaoshi’s chest. He smiled. “I think I’ll stay,” he whispered. He wrapped his link around Lu Guang’s, slow and comforting. Lu Guang let himself be entangled, sighing wistfully. Cheng Xiaoshi couldn’t really help himself after that. Lu Guang was right there, looking and feeling so sweet and trusting. He brought their noses close, lightly rubbing them together. “Just for you.”
Then Cheng Xiaoshi heard a sound he hadn’t heard in months. Lu Guang giggled. It was light, quiet, and quick, but their connection didn’t let him miss it. It rang out in his head at the same time he felt his breath against his lips.
Cheng Xiaoshi dipped his chin slightly, moving his face an inch backwards, reminding himself not to get too carried away. Lu Guang didn’t need the added stress of his roommate randomly kissing him. (Even though it wouldn’t have seemed random if the guy read the room for once).
Yet, for a moment, Cheng Xiaoshi could swear it felt like he wanted to kiss him back.
That could’ve been their connection talking. But if that were true, what did that mean? They couldn’t really hide much from each other like this.
Cheng Xiaoshi took a breath. They were doing this so that they could test their link. And he was doing this to help Lu Guang feel better. He needed to focus.
That was increasingly hard to do, though. Lu Guang was smiling. Genuinely smiling. With that half-asleep look in his eyes, and his cheeks slightly squished between Cheng Xiaoshi’s palms.
“Aww, you look so cuddly like this.” Cheng Xiaoshi said this lowly, to himself, because it looked like Lu Guang could barely hear him. But he had forgotten that their connection sounded a bit louder in his roommate’s head at the moment. He was the guide this time, not the guided.
Lu Guang’s thoughts startled him.
Kind of feels that way. Being cuddled sounds nice.
He thought this, but his body responded differently. He sat up, lifting his head from Cheng Xiaoshi’s hands. “Don’t push it,” he said.
It was wild to witness this contrast so closely. Cheng Xiaoshi assumed he had soft spots. He wasn’t as abrasive on the inside as he was the outside, but now he could really confirm it. He’d say one thing, defensive and aloof, then think another. Something kinder or needier than he wanted to sound.
Cheng Xiaoshi tried to keep his facial expression neutral, as if he didn’t hear his roommate acknowledge that he’d like physical affection.
What was wrong with asking for it? Didn’t Lu Guang know he’d do anything for him? Especially a simple and equally wanted thing like cuddling? He didn’t have to be so goddamn shy with him anymore. They’d been through too much for that.
Still, Cheng Xiaoshi didn’t let on, didn’t want to confront him about it. Now wasn’t the time.
So, he tried to bring it up in the most nonchalant way he could, to make Lu Guang think it was his idea.
“You don’t have to sit up like this,” he said. He leaned back on the couch, his back against the armrest, and opened his arms to him. “You can lean on me if you want.”
It shouldn’t have surprised him, hearing what he did, but the slight sting of shock zipped up his neck as Lu Guang crawled towards him. Cheng Xiaoshi cautiously placed his hands along his sides, gripping and coaxing him closer, sliding around to his back when his roommate finally collapsed against his chest.
Lu Guang nuzzled his head, once again, into his roommate’s warmth, curling his fingers into his night shirt, and Cheng Xiaoshi had to bite his lip to keep from laughing in delight. This felt perfect, being just what his roommate seemed to need. And Lu Guang letting himself have it.
He had never been more thankful for their powers in his life.
“Do you want to talk about what’s keeping you up?” Cheng Xiaoshi asked. He knew the answer already, but he wanted him to have the option.
Lu Guang shook his head, his nose brushing against his ribs.
Don’t want to think right now.
He snaked his arms around his back, nestling further into Cheng Xiaoshi’s body.
Cheng Xiaoshi grinned, tempted to place a kiss onto his head. He settled for combing through his hair with his fingers instead. “That’s okay. Rest, Lu Guang,” he said. “Let me pamper you a little.”
He fondly scratched him behind the ear.
“I’m not a pet,” Lu Guang grumbled.
“Of course, not.” Cheng Xiaoshi snickered in agreement, even though Lu Guang seemed to melt into the feeling of dull nails, gentle against his skin. “I know that.”
He could feel a hum of contentment against his chest. If Cheng Xiaoshi didn’t know any better, he’d might have said it sounded like a purr.
And just like that, Lu Guang’s drowsy, peaceful thoughts were in his head once more.
But you did invite me to stay with you. So maybe I already am one.
Cheng Xiaoshi gasped. That wasn’t at all what he thought about their arrangement. He wasn’t keeping him around like some dependent companion, nor did he want to.
Yet that wasn’t how that sounded, coming from Lu Guang. Maybe he was misunderstanding what his roommate had meant. Lu Guang’s tone was so tired, so tender; it sounded like it ached him. Like he did yearn for something more to this. To be something more than just a roommate.
Cheng Xiaoshi grabbed the blanket hanging over the back of their couch, looking for something he could do with his hands. He wouldn’t read too much into it. It was a snappy comeback; a bit of his dry humor that remained even as they laid here together. That was all it was.
And Cheng Xiaoshi didn’t let himself daydream about it as he tucked the blanket around his roommate, didn’t let his touch linger or become softer against Lu Guang’s back, thinking about how good he’d treat him, if he truly wanted that. To be a pet. Pampered and spoiled. Mewling like a cat snuggling in his arms—
Right. He didn’t think about any of that. Nope.
He was tired, too. It could’ve been that he was drifting. It could’ve been that he was dreaming.
He looked down at his hands splayed along his partner’s back. Watched them move with each breath Lu Guang breathed. Then he was running them along his spine to the rhythm. Trailing fingers up with the inhale, down on the exhale. Slow. Careful. A gesture that asked for nothing in return, as long as he could keep feeling him breathe.
Yet Cheng Xiaoshi still got more than he’d hoped, receiving a gift that Lu Guang didn’t know he was giving. His mind confessed to him. I don’t mind if I’m yours.
Cheng Xiaoshi’s hands stilled. He hoped he wasn’t changing his thoughts or making them lean towards where his own usually wandered. He gradually released his link, poised to pull away again, but Lu Guang caught it before he could, lightning fast. He sighed aloud. “What’s wrong?” he asked.
Why did you stop? His thoughts echoed, sounding irritated.
Cheng Xiaoshi grinned, his hands smoothing over his back again. “You’re okay with this?” he asked.
“Yeah,” Lu Guang murmured. I want more.
Lu Guang may have been more like a cat than Cheng Xiaoshi had ever realized.
If he wanted more, he’d give him more. He wasn’t sure if that meant continuing this until he fell asleep or—He didn’t even want to assume what more he could want. He only wished Lu Guang would tell him out loud. Like he meant for him to hear.
He waited a minute or two before asking the question. Again, he wanted to make it look like he was posing the question organically, not at all prompted by his roommate’s own inner monologue. “If you could have anything else in the world right now, what would you want?”
To kiss you. The answer in Lu Guang’s mind had no trace of hesitance. It was just there, sudden and pushed into Cheng Xiaoshi’s head, sounding equal amounts peaceful and yearning.
Two seconds later, Lu Guang said in the most monotone way possible, “For you to let me lay here in silence.”
Alright. Now he was going to read into it. He was too tired not to. It was probably leaning on two in the morning, and if he actually wanted to kiss him—well, fuck—Cheng Xiaoshi wanted to fucking know about it. With all certainty. “I heard that.”
“Good.”
“No. The thing about kissing me.”
Lu Guang’s entire body tensed against his, and their connection wavered. He knew that if they were in any other position, he’d be jumping off him. Gathering distance between them like an old, familiar barrier. But he was wrapped in a blanket, and his arms were pinned between Cheng Xiaoshi’s back and the couch. He wouldn’t be able to scramble away fast enough. All he could do was grit his teeth, possibly feeling shame or embarrassment about forgetting the change in their link, and mutter a strained, “I’m sorry—”
“If you don’t want me to hear your thoughts, try to whisper them to yourself,” Cheng Xiaoshi whispered into his ear, a small smirk playing on his lips. “You taught me that.”
Cheng Xiaoshi rubbed his back more, until he felt him begin to relax again. He let his link envelope Lu Guang’s, as gentle and compassionate as he could make it. Lu Guang settled, still hiding his face in Cheng Xiaoshi’s chest.
There was no need to though.
There was nothing to be ashamed of as far as Cheng Xiaoshi was concerned. They had always been partners. Even that day on the court. So, what if the word changed slightly in meaning? That was alright with him.
There had always been a heavy weight to that word. Even when they first met. He might have always said it like that, like Lu Guang was the only partner he would ever want.
“Still want that kiss?” he asked, tilting Lu Guang’s face with his hand, so that he could see his eyes again.
Please.
Those eyes were sincere and pleading. Swimming with patterns of blue and yellow.
But then his mouth said something else.
“There’s no need to indulge me.”
“Indulge you?” Cheng Xiaoshi chuckled. “I thought I might have been doing something to your brainwaves,” he said. “If you’re indulging anyone, it’s probably me.”
Lu Guang’s eyes narrowed. Yeah, right.
“No, really!” Cheng Xiaoshi said, then smiled at the confusion on Lu Guang’s face. “Your thoughts are still pretty loud to me. Took me a while to get good at hiding mine too. Remember our first dive?”
Lu Guang nodded. That’s when you first said you liked how my hand felt in yours.
He couldn’t tell if his roommate was purposefully speaking to him through his thoughts, or if he’d just stopped caring.
“Still do.” Cheng Xiaoshi said. He remembered feeling that way. That he made an accidental side comment about it without meaning to. It had been met with silence, like his other slip-ups. He never thought that Lu Guang would remember it, too.
He thought it was the sweetest gift their powers could have given him: the chance to feel Lu Guang’s touch before he was thrown into a new life and body. He carried that with him into the past, remembering his touch along his fingers if he needed to ground himself in a tough situation. He wondered if he still let his own thoughts slip sometimes; if Lu Guang knew he still did that.
“I think I’d like the feel of your lips even more,” Cheng Xiaoshi confessed.
Kiss me then.
Cheng Xiaoshi shook his head, still smiling, cupping his face and pulling him near. “Say it to me, Lu Guang,” he said. “Out loud.”
Lu Guang scrunched up his face again, squeezing his eyes shut. “Kiss me, damn it.”
Cheng Xiaoshi could tell how much effort that took for him to say. Even his cheeks were bright red now.
He finally gave him that peck on the forehead he’d once stopped himself from giving and touched their noses together. He carefully watched his eyes flicker open, their connection still strong, the yellow still…caressing blue. It pulsed brighter with Cheng Xiaoshi’s excitement, pushing ever so slightly into Lu Guang’s link.
He felt Lu Guang yield to it. He let his link go slack, his entire body shivering, eyes becoming glassy and transfixed on his. His lips parted, but the longing sigh came from his mind. Yours.
“Mine,” Cheng Xiaoshi confirmed. “Come here, kitten.”
He wasn’t sure where that came from, or for how long he’d wanted to call his roommate that. He only knew it did something good to Lu Guang.
He wasn’t sure what reaction he expected, but it certainly wasn’t the whimper that came from Lu Guang’s throat, or the way he complacently settled his hips on his lap, swaying them slightly, as if he had a tail eagerly swishing behind him. He placed his hands on Cheng Xiaoshi’s shoulders, gripping with his nails, gazing at his lips expectantly.
Right. Cheng Xiaoshi was in control this time. With a couple words, he had gotten Lu Guang into a headspace he’d never imagined he’d even enjoy. One where he didn’t have to have thoughts, or even be fully human. Where he could surrender to him. Be taken care of.
“Will you let me pamper you now?” Cheng Xiaoshi whispered.
Slowly, with eyes dreamy and filled with spiraling, sultry patterns, Lu Guang nodded.
On any other day, Cheng Xiaoshi would have been too fast, too eager. He would have rushed to pull him into a long, desperate kiss. But now that their connection was like this, every movement felt like kissing him. Hands sliding around his arching waist, breath touching his neck, hot and needful, drawing another soft, cat-like sound from his partner.
Then Cheng Xiaoshi closed his eyes and brought their lips together.
Into the sweetest, slowest kiss he’d ever had.
Lu Guang’s lips were still mildly warm from the broth. His bottom lip rested gently between Cheng Xiaoshi’s.
Their connection pulsed—both links at the same time—as they shifted closer. Cheng Xiaoshi could finally recognize the rhythm. The pulses matched their heartbeats.
And they stilled, feeling how in sync their minds and bodies were. Right here, in this kiss. Both not wanting to move and risk breaking the spell they had over each other.
It didn’t need to be anything more. This was more than enough for Cheng Xiaoshi. Years of longing, culminating in this kiss that felt so safe. So familiar and good. A home he could live in forever. He couldn’t have asked for more.
But he had forgotten. Lu Guang wanted more. Had said so. So plainly. Even if he hadn’t meant to be heard.
There was a gentle tongue licking timidly into his mouth, and Cheng Xiaoshi met it with his own. Encouraging, coaxing that shy tongue deeper between his teeth. Fingers finding their way into white hair, grazing the back of his ears.
Lu Guang fully purred into his mouth, and Cheng Xiaoshi felt their link entangle further. Lu Guang was pulling harder, and Cheng Xiaoshi didn’t have the desire to deny him.
He curled his fingers and tugged at Lu Guang’s hair, just hard enough to get him to gasp and tilt his neck. Cheng Xiaoshi’s mouth pressed against the exposed skin, kissing at his pulse, feeling it throb underneath his lips and in his head. The rhythm of pleasure becoming the only thing he could hear.
Lu Guang panted, barely able to keep himself quiet. He whined into Cheng Xiaoshi’s ear as he licked soft, small circles into his neck. Another hand laid itself against his lower back, pressing their hips together.
“Still mine?” Cheng Xiaoshi growled.
“Yours,” Lu Guang moaned. Every inch of the word was drawn out and squeezed by a tight craving in his gut. He squirmed, and his erection slid roughly against his roommate’s stomach. He lost himself and began rutting against him. Slowly, dazedly. Keening and thrusting even harder when Cheng Xiaoshi finally bit into his neck.
Your pet. Lu Guang arched; his head thrown back. His eyes were half open, gazing up at the night sky through their windowed ceiling. Lips parted, wet with his roommate’s saliva. Completely at the mercy of his own arousal at his partner’s hands.
Cheng Xiaoshi chuckled, amused by how blissful he was already. “Then tell me, pet,” he murmured, all love and dominance in his voice. “What else do you want?”
I want…
Lu Guang stopped himself, nails digging into Cheng Xiaoshi’s shoulders like claws.
“It’s okay. Just keep listening to my voice, Lu Guang. You can have anything,” Cheng Xiaoshi said. If his voice still echoed in his head, then maybe if he kept talking, he could push those doubts and fears to the back of his mind. Leave him no room to think or judge himself. “Anything you want.”
His partner relaxed slightly, the yellow in his eyes brightening as Cheng Xiaoshi took hold. His expression back to relaxed and lightly enthralled, he reached down between them, resting his hand over Cheng Xiaoshi’s hardening shaft.
I want to keep this warm.
Cheng Xiaoshi stared at him for a good while. He couldn’t have meant—
Usually, Lu Guang was more straightforward than that. But staring into his blown-out pupils, Cheng Xiaoshi could tell he was completely caught up in the pleasure. Their connection was bound too tight for him to be rational or analytical. Colors dizzily swirling in his irises. He’d been starved for this intimacy for too long. They both had.
Still, the request befuddled him. He really couldn’t mean that. Could he?
“Warm how?” Cheng Xiaoshi asked, with caution, in case he was implying something that wasn’t what his partner had in mind. “With what?”
Lu Guang ground his hips down onto him. His whine was pained, pleading for him to understand without words.
Perhaps he did understand. But he had to be sure.
Cheng Xiaoshi took Lu Guang’s chin between his thumb and forefinger. “Look at me, kitten,” he whispered. He couldn’t get enough of how he whined when he said that. There was a curl to it, one that tilted up and out of his throat like a mewl.
Only when their eyes were locked did he continue.
“Do you want to sit on my lap with my cock inside you? Would that feel good to you?” Cheng Xiaoshi asked. “Will you face me, so I can watch your eyes roll into your head?”
Direct communication had never daunted him. He spoke his mind without discretion. But Lu Guang’s reaction would make him think twice before saying something so lewd without warning. Or maybe he’d use it against him in the future. They could have some fun with that.
Apparently, Lu Guang loved being talked to like that.
He was an absolute mess in his partner’s hold. “Yes!” he wailed. “Please, Cheng Xiaoshi!” He writhed, moaned, rutted. Trying to get away, out of his own shame and arousal, but only managing to press himself closer as Cheng Xiaoshi gripped his hips. Their cocks brushed each other; had them both crying out.
As much as he didn’t want to separate for a second, Cheng Xiaoshi lifted Lu Guang off him. If they were really going to do this, they needed some supplies.
“Keep your hold on the connection. I will too,” he said. “Stay. I’ll be right back.”
He let his gaze settle on his partner for a moment, admiring the way he’d come to kneel on the couch cushions, hands bracing his weight between open knees. His head tilted up at him, expectant. Eyes only for him.
He had to ask.
“When you say pet,” Cheng Xiaoshi said. “Do you mean the obedient kind?”
He grinned at the way Lu Guang trembled and bowed his head.
Cheng Xiaoshi kissed his cheek, whispered stay once more, with as much adoration as he could put into one word, and listened to a long, sweet purring noise that followed him in his head, down the hallway. He climbed the steps to their room and figured he could still have some fun with him. Test the strength of their connection, so to speak.
“Be a good pet and touch yourself for me, Lu Guang.”
His heart skipped a beat as he heard a loud groan, not just in his mind, but from downstairs.
He’d never heard Lu Guang that loud before.
Cheng Xiaoshi was lucky he couldn’t hear his thoughts this time around. Lu Guang would probably laugh at how that had backfired. It was meant to tease, not make his own dick throb.
He didn’t even have to be in the room with him, and he could still make him sound like that.
Hot wasn’t the word for it. It made the inside of Cheng Xiaoshi’s stomach feel scorched. It was a burn that traveled, settling everywhere: in his hip joints, along his shaft, made it leak.
He fumbled around their bedroom, hoping he had at least one condom to his name. He’d even forgotten where his lube was. He felt so unbearably frenzied. He had to get back to Lu Guang.
The groans only continued in his head, urging him onwards. It was torturous to hear them, how they turned into pleasured whimpers and soft, aroused noises that Lu Guang couldn’t seem to control.
“That’s it. Keep yourself entertained,” he said, attempting to distract himself from the erotic fire in his body. “Undress for me. Slow. So, you can feel the softness of those pajamas against your skin.”
Lu Guang hissed. Hurry the fuck up.
That brought him back from the frenzy. His partner’s voice was sliding back into irritation. He wasn’t as out of it now. Perhaps the distance really did matter. The farther, the weaker their connection. The closer, the stronger.
Cheng Xiaoshi snickered, thankful for the opportunity to get a hold of himself. Gave him enough awareness to finally grab the lube from the closet and find the one last condom he owned. “Talk back to me like that, and I’ll take my time,” he said. “You act like it’s my fault you’re into this.”
Cheng Xiaoshi.
His name was sharp in his ears, even though Lu Guang was downstairs. He said it as if he were changing the course of a dive.
Now, Cheng Xiaoshi loved the idea of Lu Guang needing him that badly, but still.
Lu Guang wasn’t the one in charge right now. In fact, Cheng Xiaoshi was very sure he didn’t want to be.
“If you can’t say my name nicely, then you can say master instead,” he said.
He could audibly hear Lu Guang’s gasp. Without seeing his face, he couldn’t really tell if he liked that idea or not. But it did make him incredibly quiet.
“I’m teasing you, babe. We can talk about it later,” he said. They had plenty of time to negotiate and explore this. Get the nuances right. Still, he checked in with him, layering his voice with more concern this time around. He wanted Lu Guang to answer honestly, not feel obligated to go along with it. “Do you still want to be a good pet for me?”
Yes. Please. Yes.
Lu Guang begged.
“Keep touching then,” Cheng Xiaoshi said. “I’m going to pet you from the inside soon enough.”
Lu Guang choked on his next moan, a lot higher in pitch. His breaths were becoming ragged, and one strangled whimper made Cheng Xiaoshi’s heart stop. Was he close? Just from that?
He sped down the stairs, trying to ignore the ache of his cock between his legs. He almost dropped everything when he came back into the living room.
Lu Guang laid out over the entire length of the couch, his cock in his hand, pajamas strewn across the floor beside him. His eyes were closed, fingers clenched around the base of his shaft. His breaths were labored, his chest splotched red. Light sheens of sweat shown along his neck and temples. He was so close to the edge, visibly holding off a sudden climax.
Now it was Cheng Xiaoshi’s turn to kneel before him. He dropped to his knees beside the couch, in awe of how beautiful he looked like this, skin lit up by constellations of lions and archers.
He shed his own sweatpants, hand stroking his own dick while he praised his partner. “Good. So good of you to wait for me,” he whispered, touching gentle lips to the bruise he’d left on his neck. “You’ve been so good for me, Lu Guang.”
Lu Guang blearily opened his eyes. “Please,” he whined. “Please, pet me.”
Cheng Xiaoshi wouldn’t let him beg anymore. He was quick to kiss him, one arm wrapping around his back, the other reaching down to pry Lu Guang’s hand from his cock. That was his job now, to edge him and please him until he shuddered apart. He traced his fingertips around the tip, gathering precum and trailing it teasingly down his shaft. Every sound Lu Guang made vibrated against his lips.
He stroked his oversensitive cock, ever so lightly, feeling every shockwave of pleasure as Lu Guang’s body twitched beneath him. He kissed down his neck, his chest, his stomach, tasting his goosebumps and salt. He spent extra time at the pink, jagged looking scar on his left side, softly grazing his tongue over the marks the stitches left. I won’t let you remember the pain, he thought.
Lu Guang mewled again, and Cheng Xiaoshi straightened. Did he hear that?
But his partner wasn’t looking at him. Too busy hiding his face in the crook of the couch.
It would be true either way, whether he heard him or not. He’d make him forget about it. Replace the anguish of the open, bloody wound with the tenderness he should have shown him long ago. In time, maybe he himself would forget about the pain of watching him bleed, too.
It was on this couch. He’d laid there almost like this while he—
Cheng Xiaoshi gasped. He didn’t want to think about it. Not now. He didn’t want the memory to follow him so closely. Not here. He focused on how his hands felt against his body, to stave off the unwanted mental image.
Skin warm to the touch. Chest breathing deep as he pressed kisses along it. Lu Guang’s voice and breath in his ears, in his mind. Loud and soft at the same time. He was here. He was safe. He deserved this affection. He deserved to have Cheng Xiaoshi fully present with him, in the moment.
He didn’t have time to dwell.
He stopped touching him, and Lu Guang whined.
Cheng Xiaoshi popped open the bottle of lube and chuckled, coating his fingers. “If you want to go back to touching yourself for me, you can,” he said. “You’ve been so good that I might even let you cum.”
Lu Guang pressed the heel of his hand to his shaft, his eyes fluttering as he bit his lip.
“Do what feels good,” Cheng Xiaoshi cooed. “I’ve got you.”
A finger rubbed at his entrance; the lube still somewhat cold. Lu Guang sucked in a breath. Cheng Xiaoshi paused until he heard a needy whine in his head. Need you, master.
The unexpected title took Cheng Xiaoshi’s breath away, leaving him panting over Lu Guang’s hips. He watched as Lu Guang began to stroke himself and began to understand why these dynamics were so popular. Submissive and dominate. Pet and master. He hadn’t thought much about them before, but now that he was listening to his partner give up so much of himself, entrusting his pleasure to him, feeling safe enough to beg, to want and need—he got it.
He kissed the tip of Lu Guang’s cockhead, which only made him stroke himself harder, then gently pushed a finger into him.
Lu Guang’s eyes shot open, latching onto Cheng Xiaoshi’s. The blue and yellow patterns in his eyes were pulsing so much faster now.
Cheng Xiaoshi explored his warmth, curling and petting with unhurried ease, like he said he would. It didn’t take long for Lu Guang to relax into the sensation. Then a second finger was added, and Cheng Xiaoshi found just the right angle that made Lu Guang practically squeal his name. All the while he stroked mercilessly, shushing sweet and hot words into his head. He squeezed their link, reminding Lu Guang who was in charge for the night.
Lu Guang’s eyes rolled back completely. Exactly what Cheng Xiaoshi had wanted to see.
Then he was tense around his fingers, impossibly tight.
“Cum, kitten,” Cheng Xiaoshi said. “We’ve got all night.”
And as he was pulled into another deep kiss, Lu Guang obeyed. He arched and fell apart, nearly screaming into his partner’s mouth as he felt another finger make its way inside him. The stretching feeling extended the orgasm, Lu Guang shaking and tensing until going limp in Cheng Xiaoshi’s arms.
Cheng Xiaoshi didn’t move his fingers, leaving them gently enveloped in that warmth, waiting for his partner’s breathing to come back to normal. He laid his head on his chest and asked, “Did you still want me inside?”
Sleepy and satisfied, Lu Guang whispered. Out loud this time. “Yes.”
It took them a bit to figure out the most comfortable way to accomplish that. Eventually, Cheng Xiaoshi laid back into the corner of the couch, like he had been earlier, and slipped on the condom without much fuss.
Lu Guang straddled his hips and slowly sank onto his cock. Cheng Xiaoshi rested his hands on his hips, guiding him down, looking into his eyes, carefully watching their heartbeats sync again in a dance of yellow and blue.
He was sure this was why he couldn’t sleep. He’d been missing this warmth around him. This beautiful man beside him. He wouldn’t be able to spend a damn night away from him anymore, would he…
Cheng Xiaoshi hoped Lu Guang wouldn’t mind. He knew he was clingy on the best of days.
Then there were tears in the corners of Lu Guang’s eyes. They didn’t look like the good kind.
“Are you alright, Lu Guang?” he asked. “Does it hurt?”
Lu Guang stayed silent for a long time. Cheng Xiaoshi let him.
“Come back to me when you’re ready,” he whispered, stroking his lower stomach. He thought the touch might help him remember where they were, what was actually happening. He recognized the spaced-out look. He’d been there himself several times tonight, too.
His hand absent-mindedly brushed over his scar. Checking without meaning to.
The answer he eventually got made his heart clench. The voice in his mind was quiet.
Heartbroken.
I don’t deserve this.
As soon as he Cheng Xiaoshi’s cock fully inside him, warmth blossoming between his hips, he knew he had made a mistake. The tip hit the bottom of his stomach and touched something that had been coiled there for a long time. Sadness filled him, and he was shocked at how fast it unraveled, how harsh the burning of salt felt in his eyes.
He heard Cheng Xiaoshi distantly. Asking him if he was okay. If it hurt.
These feelings were overwhelming their connection, if only a little, making Cheng Xiaoshi’s voice sound quiet.
It didn’t hurt. His eyes were watering because it didn’t.
There was too much warmth, and it felt a little too good. Hands too gentle for him stroking the space just below his navel, along the line of where his partner’s cock pushed at him from the inside. Caught in all this warmth he could never be worthy of. His vision blurred with the tears; he didn’t even see the hand reaching for his scar.
One warm touch to his left side was enough to make him sob.
There was too much love and comfort in the places that should have hurt more than anything.
I don’t deserve this.
Cheng Xiaoshi cocked his head. “What are you talking about, love?”
If you knew what I did.
Cheng Xiaoshi stared at him—unblinking—for a full minute. The undivided attention made Lu Guang uncomfortable, and he fidgeted in his lap.
This could have been it. The moment that truly broke their partnership.
More tears formed in Lu Guang’s eyes at the thought.
Then Cheng Xiaoshi pulled him into his arms, tucking his head underneath his chin. “Whatever you did, I’ve probably thought about a hundred times over,” he said. “If you changed something, I know you had good reason. Not just impulse, like me.”
Lu Guang shook his head. This wasn’t how he was supposed to react. He had broken one of their rules.
He could see it in his eyes. Cheng Xiaoshi knew. He didn’t need to be kind like this.
It was selfish.
It was. He had no right to save Cheng Xiaoshi. The pain of losing him threatened to overwhelm him, and he should have let it.
“It was your decision,” Cheng Xiaoshi said. “Sometimes things actually are in our control. You’ve gotta remember that too.”
That was true. They had changed some things together before. This might not have been that different.
He began to rock his hips gently into him, pushing gently into his prostate. Lu Guang sighed, deeply comforted by the motion.
“I know you wouldn’t turn your back on me if I messed up,” his partner continued. “I have messed up, and you’re still here.”
“Cheng Xiaoshi…” He nuzzled into him, feeling their link tighten ever so gently.
“Shhhh, listen to me, Lu Guang.” His voice was louder again, trying to push whatever fears Lu Guang had away. Someday, that wouldn’t work. But for tonight, he let it.
He let himself be softly fucked.
He let himself be kissed.
He let his partner accept his mistakes.
He let himself silently promise to never try to fix things again.
If this night was the last, it would be enough.
“Don’t wander to the past or future,” Cheng Xiaoshi whispered. “I need you here.”
This time, it was Lu Guang who kissed him.
I am, he thought.
“Still mine?”
Still yours.