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Xie Yuchen finds Hei Xiazi in his hotel bar, drunk. He’s doing double shots of something in an unnatural shade of blue with a table full of boys who barely look old enough to drink. This, more than anything else about the tableau, is a warning sign that he’s on the verge of collapse. Hei Xiazi hates sweet, artificially flavored liquor.
“Xiao Huaaaaaa!!” he crows, flinging both arms theatrically to the sky in greeting as he abandons the table of rowdy youths to approach him.
Xie Yuchen rolls his eyes. “When was the last time you slept?” he asks waspishly.
“Does it matter? It’s not like it will kill me.” The grin Hei Xiazi flashes is intentionally obnoxious. It’s the one he always puts on when he’s trying to get in a brawl or otherwise be insufferable.
Xie Yuchen sighs. Hei Xiazi has been in this strangely manic mood since Xie Yuchen retrieved him from Ya Nü’s falsified tombstone earlier that day. “That girl must have gotten to you more than I thought,” he mutters, as much to himself as Hei Xiazi. He hates how bitter he sounds.
The look he receives in response is both confused and a little belligerent. “What the hell are you talking about?”
Xie Yuchen casts a pointed glance around the stale, dim bar room with its dubious clientele and allows the circumstances to speak for themselves.
“What does any of this have to do with Chuchu?” Hei Xiazi crosses his arms over his chest and the shit-starting grin somehow intensifies.
“Stop your posturing, you insufferable prick. If you’re trying to pick a fight with me, it won’t work.”
“Where’s the fun in that?”
“I assumed the fun was in my suite, tonight, actually, where I expected you’d already be, since you’re too cheap to pay for a room of your own. But,” Xie Yuchen pauses and takes a breath, “if… if you need to see her, for your peace of mind, I can make some arrangements.”
The truth is that he’s missed Hei Xiazi terribly in recent weeks, and has been looking forward all day to fucking him about it until neither one of them can walk… but he’d rather die than admit it out loud. The offer costs him a lot to make, which leaves him feeling especially confused and annoyed when instead of being grateful, Hei Xiazi gets angry.
“Of course I don’t want to see her. Are you stupid?”
Xie Yuchen gives him a tight smile. “Apparently so,” he says, chillingly mild. “I’m also tired, suddenly, so goodnight. Enjoy your liver damage.” With that he turns on his heel and walks out.
“Xiao Hua!”
Well, at least he realizes he fucked up. Xie Yuchen keeps walking. Hei Xiazi catches up to him at the elevator.
“Xiao Hua, were you being serious just then?”
“Don’t worry, it won’t happen again.”
The elevator arrives and Hei Xiazi follows him in.
“What are you doing, Xiazi?” Xie Yuchen is too weary to deal with mixed signals.
“You left,” he says, like a pouty child.
“I’m tired, and you were spoiling for a fight. Find someone else to fight with.”
“Never. You’re the one I like to fight with.”
Normally this confession would be enough to pull an affectionate smile out of Xie Yuchen, but right now he’s feeling too raw to be indulgent.
“Whatever,” he says as they reach his hotel room’s door. “Do what you want, I know you will anyway. But if you come in here, you’ll be taking a shower before you’re allowed to touch a single, non-tiled surface.”
Hei Xiazi grins and nods obediently, knowing he’s won.
Xie Yuchen rolls his eyes and opens the door.
Hei Xiazi stumbles out of his boots and careens obediently into the bathroom, which is likely the only olive branch Xie Yuchen will get tonight. It’s something, he supposes. Xie Yuchen follows him in.
“You smell like a distillery,” he observes with distaste, retrieving a towel and washcloth and setting them on the edge of the sink, within arm’s reach of the shower. A distillery with a horrible, cheap haircut. Why the hell is Xie Yuchen so into him, again?
Hei Xiazi shrugs and fiddles with the knobs and the shower thunders to life. This hotel is basically a slum but at least the water pressure is good. And the view of Hei Xiazi’s ass when he bends over is almost enough to make up for the haircut.
Hei Xiazi takes off his jacket, then pauses and cocks an eyebrow at Xie Yuchen’s steady gaze.
“A striptease costs extra,” he smirks.
“Is that so?” Without breaking eye contact Xie Yuchen pulls his billfold out of his back pocket and plucks out a handful of bills, tossing them at Hei Xiazi. For old times’ sake.
“Anything else?” he says with the bored, vaguely impatient affect of the embarrassingly wealthy.
Hei Xiazi’s mouth falls open like he’s been punched in the gut. It’s been years since they played this game, but it still works on him like a charm.
“No… No, boss. We’re good. Nothing else.” He licks his lips as he reaches for his belt.
Hei Xiazi doesn’t tease — he’s too drunk, still, for that, though it would be clear to anyone who knows him that he’s sobering up now. But he does undress carefully, deliberately turning in a slow circle for the benefit of his audience. By the time he’s down to his sunglasses and a smile, he’s more than half hard.
A warm curl of arousal ignites deep in Xie Yuchen's belly at the sight. Maybe he can salvage this evening after all, he smiles to himself.
“Like what you see, boss?” Hei Xiazi smirks like the fucking peacock he is. Xie Yuchen gives an appraising once-over.
“You’ll do,” he nods, then pushes himself to stand and walks to the door. There’s a small night-light on the counter, to leave on to help guests find their way in the dark. Xie Yuchen switches it on, then turns off the overhead lights. He pauses thoughtfully at the night-light, then slides his shaving kit in front of it to block the brightest glare of the bulb. When all that’s visible is a soft, diffuse glow, he strides forward and plucks the glasses off of Hei Xiazi’s face. Hei Xiazi lets him. He sets them on the edge of the sink.
“The water is warm,” he murmurs, leaning close enough to kiss, but then withdrawing. “Get to it. You’re on the clock, after all.”
The money crunches under Hei Xiazi’s bare feet as he steps into the shower stall.
Hei Xiazi lets out an indecent groan as the hot water cascades down his back and Xie Yuchen smiles. Moving quietly he undresses, taking care to hang up his button down on the hook behind the door, and drape his pants neatly over the towel bar so they don’t incur horrific wrinkles.
“How much for more than a strip tease, then?” he asks when he’s also naked.
He hears Hei Xiazi choke on air.
“Boss…" his voice is hoarse. “What kind of worker do you take me for?”
“The kind who likes my money. Is that a no?”
“No! Wait, yes — no… I mean— It’s not a no.”
“Well then,” Xie Yuchen smiles, “name your price.”
Hei Xiazi pulls an obscene number out of the air.
“Fine,” Xie Yuchen agrees easily, and approaches the shower.
Hei Xiazi drags him in, giving him a bruising kiss. They’re close enough that Xie Yuchen can tell he’s fully hard now, feels his own body respond.
“Such a good whore, for me, aren’t you?” he murmurs, mean and petty because that’s how Hei Xiazi likes him.
Hei Xiazi pulls back to look at him, and even in the dark Xie Yuchen can see the turmoil in his eyes. Then, unexpectedly, he drops to his knees, resting his head against Xie Yuchen’s hip. When he speaks it’s so soft Xie Yuchen can barely hear it over the water.
“When he sent the video of her… the last place I knew she’d been, was with you. And then I couldn’t call, I had no way of knowing if you—”
“Xiazi…” something painful twists in Xie Yuchen when he realizes that Hei Xiazi spent days, maybe weeks, thinking that he was dead too. Realizes that all this chaotic, self destructive behavior was born out of that fear, and the subsequent relief.
Xie Yuchen goes to his knees too, brushing Hei Xiazi’s wet hair away from his forehead.
“You’re a fucking liability. I can’t do this, Yuchen.”
Xie Yuchen knows far too well what he means. For men like them, needing people is terrifying. Just look what it did to Wu Xie, for ten fucking years… But he doesn’t have time for those feelings right now.
“No, I’m not a liability,” he corrects, airy and flippant. “I’m your employer. Did you forget already?” He gestures to the money on the bathmat and bites back a smirk at Hei Xiazi’s gobsmacked expression.
Feeling smug, he reaches up and drags a single finger along Hei Xiazi’s jaw, down to the divot in his collarbone, and traces the center line of his ventral muscles all the way down to his navel.
“We have an agreement. Money has been exchanged. I think you’d find it… unpleasant to learn what happens when someone breaks a contract with me, without due cause. You’re bought and paid for tonight, so you’d better get in the mood to ‘do this.’”
Hei Xiazi surges forward and kisses him, and it steals his breath away. A decade and a half of familiarity hasn’t even begun to dampen the intensity of his focus, the overwhelming tidal wave of his care. This, Xie Yuchen knows, is Hei Xiazi’s deepest secret: his sincerity is as all-consuming as it is rare. He hides it away beneath bluster and bravado and that wretched, unforgivable mullet to keep from crippling himself, knowing better than anyone else alive, maybe, that the world would like nothing more than to bleed him dry until there’s no more left of him than a desiccated mummy in a thousand-year-old tomb.
Xie Yuchen lets himself be crowded against the cold tile of the shower stall, panting as Hei Xiazi sucks a messy trail of bite-kiss-bruises down the column of his neck. He slides a knee between Xie Yuchen’s and presses the strong, hard weight of his thigh closer. Xie Yuchen shudders and grinds against it, obliging.
He’ll take whatever Hei Xiazi has to give. The hidden, needy side of Hei Xiazi has never failed to awaken Xie Yuchen’s own secret self — the ravenous, gaping chasm of greed concealed beneath the carefully crafted gentleman’s mask of decorum, competence, and control.
Xie Yuchen grabs Hei Xiazi by the hair, growling as he claims a kiss from his deceptively submissive position, biting at Hei Xiazi‘s lips until he tastes blood. With the other hand he drags Hei Xiazi closer just to feel the hot press of his arousal against his own belly, and digs his fingernails into the firm, tight flesh of Hei Xiazi‘s ass.
Xie Yuchen is cruel simply because he knows he can be, knows that here no one expects the placid veneer of his public persona to be any more substantial than a pair of those cheap, plastic sunglasses. He breaks the skin because he knows it pleases them both to see Hei Xiazi’s body covered in the fading memories of his care.
Hei Xiazi gasps and tenses in his arms, dropping his head and nuzzling his face into the pulse-point at Xie Yuchen’s throat, perhaps just to feel it beating, after weeks of worry. Xie Yuchen arches back, baring his throat and thrilling at the knowledge that he, alone, among all living men knows how much pleasure can be wrung out of this body-for-hire. If they knew, he’d surely find himself chained in bedrooms more often than tombs. But Xie Yuchen is greedy, and he does not share.
Abruptly the water turns cold. They curse and run from the spray, Hei Xiazi laughing and Xie Yuchen cursing about the subpar accommodations.
Wet and panting they find themselves in the bedroom where Xie Yuchen pulls the curtains to block the street lights. He puts a hand out to feel his way to the bed in the unfamiliar room, and Hei Xiazi catches it, pulling him in like a fish on a line until they're face to face. Xie Yuchen steps between Hei Xiazi's knees where he’s perched on the edge of the bed.
With his free hand hand Xie Yuchen reaches up and touches Hei Xiazi’s face. Hei Xiazi turns into it, smiling into his palm. Xie Yuchen shivers, then turns Hei Xiazi’s head farther to the side. He leans in and bites at his neck, smiling into the darkness at the goosebumps he raises.
Then, acting on impulse, he takes that familiar face between his palms and leans in to give him a slow, nearly reverent kiss on the lips. It’s easier to do this in the dark, for some reason, even knowing that this is when Hei Xiazi can see him most clearly. Maybe because of that. It’s easier to be honest, here, to offer gestures that say what they’ve never put into words. What they probably never will.
It’s a check-in, a reassurance. Yes, I survived. Thank god, so did you. I missed you, I want you, I lo—
The kiss is soft like they never are, except when they’re here, alone in the darkness. It is the most chaste touch they’ve shared this evening, and yet it leaves them both panting, their mingled breath humid and warm between them when they part.
Xie Yuchen reaches up to brush the hair out of Hei Xiazi’s face. “Get to it, then,” he croons, affection mingling with lust. “Time to earn your paycheck.” Then he flips their positions, sitting on the edge of the bed and shoving Hei Xaizi to the ground on his knees.
He tangles his fingers in the horrible mess of Hei Xiazi's hair, humming his enjoyment when Hei Xiazi moans at the fresh tug against his scalp. “Surely you don’t think I brought you to bed to snuggle.” He spreads his thighs to illustrate his point, then he takes Hei Xiazi by the throat with one hand and pries his jaw open with the other, shoving two fingers into the hot, wet heaven of his mouth. Hei Xiazi moans again, the sound muffled slightly by the intrusion.
“Good,” Xie Yuchen praises, approving, “now you’ve got the idea.”
He withdraws his fingers and Hei Xiazi sets to his task eagerly, as he always does, like suffocating to death between Xie Yuchen’s thighs would be a badge of honor. Xie Yuchen melts into it, falling back onto the bed and wallowing in his own greed. He holds Hei Xiazi by the hair, keeping him there for minutes or hours until he’s dizzy with it, and then drags him up, kissing him just for the pleasure of tasting himself on those swollen lips.
Mine.
“Please,” Hei Xiazi begs against his lips, his voice a hoarse whisper. “Fuck me, please. I need you.”
In the dark they can both say all sorts of things they’d never otherwise dare.
Xie Yuchen hums, considering. He loves fucking Hei Xaizi, loves driving into him, laying claim, all teeth and hair pulling. He knows now after all this time when Hei Xiazi needs to feel it. But his bag is across the room, and tonight Xie Yuchen is craving something else: the animal connection of skin on skin.
“Who’s in charge here?” he demands, as imperious as he can manage in his current state of arousal.
“Fuck…” Hei Xiazi is shaking with need. “You are. You are, boss.”
“You’d do best to remember that. Get on the bed and stop telling me how to spend my money.”
“Y– Yes, boss.”
“On your back.”
Hei Xiazi complies with impressive alacrity, arranging himself on the center of the bed. Even in the near-pitch-blackness Xie Yuchen can make out the shape of his body, knows exactly where to reach out to take him in hand and rub a thumb along the head of his cock. It’s drooling liberally now, as needy as the rest of him. Another time Xie Yuchen will let it drool for hours, will ignore it until there’s a sticky puddle in the concave dip of Hei Xiazi’s belly, so he can drag his fingers through the mess and mock Hei Xiazi for it just to make him blush.
Not tonight.
“I’m going to ride you,” he declares, crisp and businesslike. Hei Xiazi makes a shocked noise, like he’s been kicked in the stomach. They don’t do this often. Xie Yuchen usually prefers other flavors of pleasure. But Hei Xiaizi hasn’t been the only one worried about his lover’s life. And tonight Xie Yuchen wants to feel the evidence of Hei Xiazi’s vitality on every inch of him they can reach.
“If you come before I’m done,” he warns, “I’ll make you regret it.”
Hei Xiazi keens.
The hot, wet press of his cockhead pulls a moan out of Xie Yuchen. Hei Xiazi’s hands flex on his hips, bruising, and as Xie Yuchen sinks down on the length of him, he lets out a string of expletives in a language Xie Yuchen doesn’t know.
They fall quickly into a rhythm, as well attuned in this as they are in all things, and for a moment the world falls away except for the primal, mammalian heat of their connection, as old as humanity itself.
By the time Xie Yuchen shakes apart he has tears in his eyes. They don’t talk about it. They never will. And they’ll never speak of the way they cling to each other when Hei Xiazi flips him over while he's still loose and pliant from orgasm, and fucks into him with a desperation that punches the air out of his lungs.
It’s enough to lie gasping together in the damp tangle of sweaty sheets, flushed and aching. It’s enough to hear the laconic smirk in Hei Xiazi’s voice when he says, afterwards, “I’m pretty glad you’re not dead, Xiao Hua.”
“Hmmm,” he hums in response, deliberately tart. “You say that now, but you’ll wish I was, if you don’t shut the hell up and go to sleep.”
Hei Xiazi’s chuckle is indulgent and fond. “Sure. That’ll be 500 RMB.” Just like old times.
“Fine, whatever,” Xie Yuchen agrees, yawning, allowing himself to be drawn back against the solid, reassuring warmth of Hei Xiazi’s chest. “My credit card is on the dresser. Deal with it yourself.”
Hei Xiazi pulls him closer. “Sure thing, young man. Just as soon as we wake up.”