Work Text:
They were actors
and what do actors do?
pretend.
In front of the camera, in front of the audience, in front of the press, in front of everyone—at least that’s what Wu Suowei thought.
because when the cameras stopped rolling and when everybody wasn’t looking, he was certain he saw sides of Chi Cheng that nobody did. He was certain because it was there. Evident. Tangible. Felt.
They've been together as on screen partners for a while now—1 month and 28 days to be exact. Their days were usually filled with scripts, dialogues, practices, cameras, staff, crew, and a director. Professional—that’s the relationship that Wu Suowei and Chi Cheng had at work. Used to. Because lines do blur especially whenever the final “cut!” was heard and they chose to scoot closer. Too close to even call it a professional relationship.
They’d wrap it up, call it a day, would walk side by side, would get into Chi Cheng’s car, drove somewhere—a park they’d consider as their rendezvous, ate ice cream like it was the only thing that mattered, bickered, teased, kissed even, held hands, hugged, cuddled. All the same routine for the entire month that they were together.
It started 3 weeks in when the air between them suddenly shifted after they wrapped up one Saturday afternoon. When they got back to their apartment, Chi Cheng held his hand and spun him around like the scripts meant nothing, like Wu Suowei meant everything to him, like it was the only thing he wanted to do, like he waited for eternity to reach Suowei and he finally did.
Confusion took over Suowei but he said nothing. He stood there patiently and waited for Chi Cheng to say something—to fill the gap between them—whatever it was. Instead, Chi Cheng just grabbed Suowei, enveloped him in his arms and said, “I’d let you consume me Suowei,” then a pause—a minute or two—before he spoke again, “only if you’d allow me,”
Suowei didn’t know what it meant nor did he want to because knowing would mean putting the possibility of losing Chi Cheng into the equation and he didn’t want that—at least not for now. So, Suowei just pulled him closer and nodded because if he would be honest, he’d let Chi Cheng consume him too. Not just parts of him but his entire being. A complete surrender.
He knew he was being too vulnerable, too easy, but he didn’t care. Chi Cheng was a risk he was more than willing to take. Why? Because Chi Cheng was his anchor. A solid ground he could confidently walk on. Something that didn’t show signs of faltering anytime soon. Certainty.
The silence that followed their tender moment wasn’t heavy but it carried the weight of all the unsaid words for the past three weeks. The moments unnamed. The feelings left unspoken. He swore it was there, that it was real, that it lingered on the air that day.
—-
Then, 2 days before work would formally end, Suowei was just a vessel, filled with nothing but confusion.
“Chi Cheng?” he called. They wrapped the filming earlier than expected. They should have scooted closer towards each other 30 minutes ago, would get into Chi Cheng’s car and drove their way towards the park. Inseparable. However, Chi Cheng just scrolled through his phone across the table. Centimeters apart. A gap not that big but not too small to go unnoticed.
“Hmm?” Chi Cheng hummed in response. Just a hum. He did not even bother to lift his gaze to meet Suowei’s.
Suowei bit the inside of his cheek because he was unsure of what to say. He doesn’t know the boundaries he shouldn’t cross. He wasn’t even sure if it was right to demand or to ask for a request. So, he stared at Chi Cheng, hoping that the latter would notice and would do Suowei a favor and meet his eyes
because for the first time—ever since they started filming—Chi Cheng did not.
but Chi Cheng did not budge. He did not bother ask Suowei after the deafening silence that followed his hum. It was hollow. The space between them was crossable but Suowei felt it was too far. Too unreachable. Chi Cheng was unreachable.
but, again, Chi Cheng was the risk he was more than willing to take. A war he was willing to win
and a war he was even willing to lose.
“Let's go?” Suowei stood up. He swallowed his pride and took the initiative as he expected Chi Cheng to follow behind him. He was the first to break the silence—smiling amidst the uneasy feeling that welled up his stomach. He did not care. He just wanted to close the gap between him and Chi Cheng.
They were only left with two more days and he won’t spend it playing mind games with someone he was sure of. If fate was playing tug of war with him then he’d play, and he swore he’d win it.
“Where?” the only response he received.
“Let’s go home,”
“You go first, Suowei. I just have to meet someone,”
There it was. ‘Suowei’, not ‘Wei Wei’ and not even his favorite nickname ‘baobao’. Just a plain ‘Suowei’ from Chi Cheng.
It was an unfair game for Suowei. rigged.
and with that, Chi Cheng walked past him. No goodbyes, not even a stare, not even a smile like he was not worth sparing any ounce of it—which was funny because the Chi Cheng he knew would die and kill for his attention.
but he swallowed his pride because it was Chi Cheng.
Maybe Chi Cheng was going to meet someone important.
Maybe he was planning a surprise for Suowei?
That's it, right? That should be the most reasonable explanation behind whatever this was. There’s no way the air would suddenly shift between them when they just cuddled the night before and exchanged promises like they were going to fulfill them together—Suowei would though and he thought Chi Cheng would do the same.
He still did. At least that’s what he wanted to believe.
He didn’t want to doubt.
He didn’t want to get angry.
He didn't want to question Chi Cheng’s intention.
So, that day, Suowei went home to their hotel alone. He walked all the way from their set back to their room because Chi Cheng—being the kind and considerate guy that he was—might have forgotten that the very reason why they used to go home together was because Suowei couldn’t drive
yet today, after 58 days of being together, it surprisingly ‘slipped’ Chi Cheng’s mind on a random tuesday afternoon.
Laughable.
“Pathetic,” he ran his hands through his hair. frustration slowly took over his body—not towards Cheng because he could never be angry at him—but towards himself. “God, I'm so pathetic! I should have known better than letting myself be consumed by my own feelings,” he let out a loud groan which only highlighted the silence that followed after.
The room felt too big, not because it was spacious, but because Chi Cheng wasn’t in it. He let his eyes wander around the room—scanned every corner that held memories of them together. He swore to god it was raw. He swore to god it was real. He swore to god that they shared something genuine. So, why? Why did Chi Cheng flip so fast like a fucking switch? What made him do it? What happened between them? What were they?
Did he say something weird while he was asleep last night? Did he not hug Chi Cheng tightly enough? Was this Chi Cheng’s way of getting out of character? But wasn’t it too soon? They still had two days. They could go through all of the detaching process once the filming was over. Not now. Not separately. Not like this.
“Chi Cheng knows how to play this game, huh?” Wu Suowei doesn’t know what to believe anymore. Was he played? Was he used? Was he not enough?
“Could he at least spare my poor soul? I really do love you Chi Cheng,” a silent confession that just vanished into thin air—words he never spoke boldly in front of Chi Cheng because he wasn’t sure if it was appropriate, if it was what Chi Cheng wanted. But his absence made his heart ache. And maybe, just maybe, if Cheng wasn’t ready to hear those words from him, then maybe the air would be kind enough to hear him instead.
He laughed bitterly and just shrugged the thought off. Maybe, when Chi Cheng gets home they’d talk it out and they’d figure things out together just like how they always did.
The trust he had for Chi Cheng was bigger than any doubts that clouded his mind.
Attached. Too attached. Too trusting. That was who Suowei was towards Chi Cheng.
So, Wu Suowei decided to drift off. Sleep the pain that was slowly eating him whole because maybe, when he wakes up, the world would be a little more kind and Chi Cheng would be there.
but Chi Cheng did not come home that night.
—
Suowei woke up to an empty bed. No good morning kisses, no warmth, no cuddles, no hugs, no Chi Cheng.
5:22 AM.
It was almost time for work yet Chi Cheng was nowhere to be found—at least not within the bounds of those four walls. He swore he wouldn’t interfere, swore he would put his trust in Chi Cheng, but the thought of Chi Cheng not returning was his last straw. so, he called
and called
and called
and called
and there was nothing.
Wu Suowei:
“Chi? I don’t know what happened but where are you?”
“It’s almost call time”
“Call me when you’re available”
“Just answer”
“I’d take anything”
“I love y-“
He typed the last sentence then deleted it. The possibility that those words would send Chi Cheng running at the front door sounded tempting but he didn’t want to be a pushover.
He was spiraling. He was so close to losing his shit but he had to act tough. He had to be. The world won’t stop spinning just because he was a little heartbroken, confused, worried, and sad. After all, he was here because he was an actor—Chi Cheng’s on-screen pair—long before he became Chi Cheng’s whatever-you-want-to-call-it thing.
Still, there was no response from Cheng. Not even a dot just to assure Suowei that he was breathing. With a heavy heart, he decided to prepare. Not because he wanted to but because he had to.
Today was the last day of filming.
He should be happy. He should be celebrating. He should be excited to be on set. But amusingly, out of all the days he spent on Wuxi, the walk today felt extra dragging. Maybe because he wasn’t inside Chi Cheng’s car? Maybe because the 5-minute journey stretched to 10 minutes? Maybe because Chi Cheng wasn’t there? Wu Suowei wished he knew the answers.
He arrived on set just in time. Everybody was busy preparing for the last scene already. They were too occupied with their own little responsibilities which made Suowei frustrated because everybody was busy. Too busy to even see that he was hurting. That he didn’t want to come to work. That he didn’t want this to end.
That he wanted Chi Cheng to be there.
That he was bothered about Chi Cheng’s absence.
That Chi Cheng confused him.
That Chi Cheng didn’t look at him yesterday.
That Chi Cheng didn’t answer his texts.
That Chi Cheng walked out because he had something urgent—something or someone more urgent than him.
That Chi Cheng let him walk but he never did that.
That Chi Cheng didn’t eat dinner with him, so he didn’t bother cooking.
That Chi Cheng was somewhere out there—anywhere but beside him.
Chi Cheng was somewhere out there—anywhere but his bed
Chi Cheng could be out there kissing someone that’s not him
Chi Cheng.
Chi Cheng.
He was whining. Complaining. The hurt that he tried so hard to suppress just started pouring out. He was hurt and he was too denial, too trusting, too attached to even admit that.
Who wouldn’t? Chi Cheng claimed him like he would go through hell and back just for him. Wu Suowei swore that the Chi Cheng he knew back then would. But with just a single snap Wu Suowei lost Chi Cheng yesterday. All of him. All of their promises. He couldn’t complain—not really. What right did he have? What place did he hold? What weight did he carry? Who was he in Cheng’s life, after all?
“Suowei! Get inside the tent and get ready in position. We will start scene 6 in 5 minutes,” the director yelled at him which took him back to reality.
“Chi Cheng’s not yet here. He did not come home last night,” he complained to the director like she held all the answers he needed
“Chi Cheng? He arrived 10 minutes earlier than you,” she did. a part of it.
So he rushed towards the tent. No plan just pure emotions: the hurt, the worry, the confusion, the care, and love he carried for the man mentioned.
He swore he’d kill him, make him pay for not coming home last night, for being a dick, for being so ruthless. But, when he got a sight of Chi Cheng inside the tent reading his script for the final scene—their final scene—relief took over. Chi Cheng was there, still as beautiful as ever, breathing. He was fine. Chi Cheng made it back in one piece.
and that was enough—for now.
“Chi Cheng?” he approached. It was Wu Suowei's attempt to start a conversation with Chi Cheng.
“Let’s talk later, Suowei” Chi Cheng stood up from his chair and walked past him. again.
How many ‘later’s could Suowei take? He doesn’t even know. Doesn’t want to.
The scene wasn’t exactly heavy and it did not require anything intimate so they wrapped everything up smoothly like professionals—and just like that the filming ended. Everything they’ve worked so hard on for the past 2 months was now ready to be showcased to the world.
Suowei should be jumping out of excitement—he was—but when Chi Cheng refused to meet his eyes for the second time and declined the invitation for the dinner party tonight, he was not that sure anymore. Not sure about Chi Cheng’s intention. Not sure about what Chi Cheng really wanted from the start. Not sure about them.
So, he declined as well. He promised the entire team to treat them somewhere in the future if the series ever gets successful—if they had that luxury and if luck was on their side.
When Chi Cheng and Wu Suowei were still on good terms—even if Suowei doesn’t like to think of this as being on bad terms—they had a little promise. They swore they’d spend their last day at the park they always went to: just the two of them, eating ice cream like they used to, spending their remaining time in Wuxi in the simplest way possible.
Simple, yet it was theirs.
Suowei doesn’t know about Chi Cheng, but this promise was etched at the back of his mind. It never left him—kept it like an oath. So, now, he was on his way to the park—walking because Chi Cheng forgot to take his little co-star with him again.
The sun was setting and the breeze was getting colder. He did not bring his jacket, not because he forgot, but because he knew and expected that Chi Cheng’s warmth would suffice. If he still wanted a hug from Suowei that is
“stupid, Chi Cheng” he muttered under his breath
but, hey, he would still gladly offer Chi Cheng a hug in a heartbeat.
When he arrived, the park was quiet. Empty. Exactly how Chi Cheng liked it. He allowed his eyes to wander around the place, let his mind wander around the memories they built here together, let his heart ache a little bit more. With a blink of an eye, everything came to a close. It was the reality that Suowei wasn’t ready to accept—his heart didn't want to. Not like this. Not when Chi Cheng was slowly slipping away.
6:00 PM.
It was evening and Chi Cheng was nowhere to be found. Suowei smiled bitterly to himself. How silly of him to even hope for Chi Cheng’s appearance when he was obviously avoiding him since yesterday? Foolish. But, again, Chi Cheng was the risk that he was willing to take. So, he understood. Made up excuses for Chi Cheng inside his little mind because if he wouldn’t, who would explain all this fuckery for him? Exactly.
He decided that maybe he would figure it out with Chi Cheng later or tomorrow.
Not until he saw Chi Cheng walking towards the park
But he wasn’t alone
Nor did he look bothered
Instead, he looked happy
There, he saw Wang Shuo for the first time—in flesh. Not from some narrations, not from someone’s gallery, not from Chi Cheng’s point of view. He was walking beside him. Too close. Too happy. Too unbothered. Too painful.
The park started sinking; everything felt too suffocating. His mind went blank. It did not process everything, nor did it want to process anything. It kept denying the information right before him because there was absolutely no way. This man was his three days ago. He was in his bed. He was the warmth he felt every single day. He was his first kiss in the morning and his last kiss before he went to bed. He was his "I love you”s. He promised. He swore. He said he’d let Suowei consume him.
Chi Cheng said. Chi Cheng declared.
But, honestly—consume what? Consume who? Because the only person being consumed here was him.
Yet, again, Chi Cheng was the risk he was so fucking willing to take. He said this more than 10 times already like a fucking prayer he dedicated his entire heart to.
So, he moved closer to ask because if he really meant anything, Chi Cheng would respond. Chi Cheng would answer. Chi Cheng would clarify.
but luck was on his side because they kissed right before him.
Tender
Sweet
Genuine
Unscripted
Without cameras
Without the dialogues
Theirs
Not his
and before he could even think, his body started moving on its own. He ran. He ran past them. He made sure to make every step loud enough so Cheng could hear him run away. So Cheng could hear him slipping away because maybe it would matter.
because maybe he mattered.
“Suowei!” there it was.
He did not look back though. He wanted to. He swore to all the gods he really wanted to but the pain in his heart was too big. Too loud.
“Wei Wei,” fuck that.
He heard the steps getting louder and louder, so he ran faster and faster—matched Chi Cheng’s pace.
“Wu Suowei,” he grabbed and spun him around again.
Just like that day. That day he swore he’d let Suowei consume him. The declaration. The hollow confession.
“It’s not what you think,” he explained but Suowei didn’t process what Chi Cheng said. He was too hurt to even comprehend.
Chi Cheng slowly lifted Suowei's chin up and for the first time, after three days, their eyes met again.
and Suowei didn’t like that. Didn’t like the thought that it had to get to this point just so he could catch a glimpse of those eyes again—the stare that he was longing for, the gaze that used to bring comfort.
“Say something, baobao, please?”
“Let’s go?” Suowei choked out
“Where?”
“Our home.” Suowei responded with a bitter smile on his face because despite what happened, he still wanted Chi Cheng home. To be his and to just keep on living on that fragile delusion he created within the four walls of their hotel room.
“baobao, that’s not-“
“Then what do you want me to say, Chi Cheng?!” he finally broke. Words spilled out through the cracks he had tried so hard to repair by himself.
“Wei Wei, pleas-“
“You don’t get to dance around my life and act like nothing happened, Chi Cheng. You claimed to love me, claimed to build dreams with me, claimed to keep it real even after taping, claimed to be mine even after the cameras stopped rolling. Then, two days ago, you decided to just disappear?”
“That’s not-“
“Then what exactly was it?!”
Suowei was too hurt. Everything was too much yet he wanted the answers to come from Chi Cheng’s mouth because, only then, would he believe everything.
Because Wu Suowei was too attached, too trusting, too far gone for Chi Cheng
and that was his first mistake.
“Wang Shuo came back,” Chi Cheng reasoned.
“Was it that convenient, Cheng? Was it because I was the closest? Did I fill the void? Did I fill the tiny little cracks of your heart—the one that completely belonged to him? The one I thought was mine?” Wu Suowei didn’t want to admit it. The thought of Chi Cheng belonging to someone else—and not to him—didn’t sit right at all. But what could he do? Cheng never really claimed him—not in the way Wu Suowei wanted.
“Baobao, it’s yours. Of course, it-“
“Then why can’t I feel it, Chi Cheng?!”
“Let me explain. Baby, I just had to talk with him-“ Chi Cheng pleaded. He knew he messed up but he wanted his baobao to at least listen to him. He knew he was being an ass and he didn’t deserve any of Wu Suowei's precious time, but he didn’t want to lose him either.
“and ignore me like I never existed within the past 2 months?! Avoid me like I was a fucking burden?! I kissed you and you kissed back, we did things we weren’t supposed to—what co-actors shouldn’t do. And now, because Wang Shuo’s finally back, I got demoted back to just being ‘Chi Cheng’s on-screen partner’?” demoted. The word sounded bitter in his tongue.
Wu Suowei did not stop there. Didn’t want to. The hurt he dealt with alone started taking shape—turning into words he tried to keep to himself.
“Was I a disposable trash because your gold found its way back to you again? Fucking hell, Chi Cheng! I gave you everything. I went beyond the bounds of the script I was told to stick to. I held onto every promise you made. Trusted you like my life depended on it. I waited for you yesterday, didn’t eat dinner because you weren’t there, and felt empty because I woke up without you beside me.” Suowei blurted out.
“I met up with him to clarify things, Wei Wei. I wanted to have this closure with him,” Chi Cheng explained with pleading eyes. It held a slight hope that maybe Suowei would hear him out.
“and that closure meant kissing?”
“He kissed me!”
“and you didn’t pull away”
Silence.
“There goes your closure—not with him but with me,” he laughed bitterly upon the realization.
Chi Cheng was the fight that Suowei was willing to win
even lose
and right now, he was defeated.
“I fucking visualized it already, Cheng. I was hoping to see you at the end of the aisle. Got our whole future figured out. Got me planning shits we won’t—no—you won’t even fucking fulfill!”
and if he didn’t know better, he would’ve folded the second he saw Chi Cheng crying in front of him—the moment he knew he fucked up big time. If he didn’t know better, he would’ve forgave Chi Cheng the moment he pulled him for a hug—whispered apologies that shot daggers right into his heart. If he didn’t know better, he would’ve accepted Chi Cheng’s attempt to kiss him again.
But he knew better; a contradiction to what his heart really wanted.
“Let’s just go home. I’m tired.”
Chi Cheng only nodded. Afraid that if he’d push things deeper it would only hurt Suowei even more—would only let his baobao slip even further. So, he asked him to wait.
On the same spot while he grabs his car.
Suowei nodded.
Chi Cheng swore he had never cursed himself—except tonight. Yet, he decided to make things right when they’d get home. He would ask for another chance because he knew he fucked up. He should’ve pushed Wang Shuo the moment their faces inched dangerously closer to each other because his heart already belonged to Suowei.
but Wang Shuo shook his resolve and he was too dumb to even consider it his love for his good-for-nothing ex when it was just his mind craving for closure.
His Wei Wei’s tears, fuck, he made him cry. The realization hurt him to the bone and he swore he would never do it again. He deserved to be punished. He deserved Wei Wei’s anger. He deserved whatever it was that his Wei Wei would throw at him
but he swore he’d make it right. He swore he’d win him back again.
So, he turned his car to the corner
and Wu Suowei wasn’t there anymore
that night, Wu Suowei did not come home.