“Yue Fei?” Wei Qing is bouncing with nervous energy at the back of the car. Although he’s never liked the idea of having a big staff, at this point, he really wishes for a driver uncle to stuff into their house. If they had a driver, couldn’t Yue Fei sit back here with him instead of making sure they got home safely?
“Mmmm?” Although his lips are tipped up indulgently, Yue Fei’s focused on the road like a proper guardian. It makes that intensity in the bathroom feel farther away than it truly is, and Wei Qing can’t help but ask. Just before he totally abandons himself to those happy plans for dates and sweetness and a larger household staff.
“Yue Fei, that wasn’t just a one-time thing, right?” Wei Qing swiftly backpedals, just in case, “I mean, if it was, I can- I just wondered-”
Yue Fei interrupts, fingers spasming with the desire to ruffle Wei Qing’s hair. “Not a one-time thing. You told me to consider it… I’ve considered.” He has to settle for stroking the leather of the steering wheel instead. Indeed, a driver wouldn’t be so outrageous.
Yes, he said yes, that’s a yes then.
Wei Qing thinks the city is especially pretty in the falling light. Even when the rain starts to blur everything together, there’s a romanticism that he’d long since become indifferent to, suddenly brought back to the forefront. He feels like he’s sitting in the cover art for some romance novel, which is absolutely lovely, given how much of his last life was depressing tabloid junk.
Since Yue Fei has to keep them safe and alive, Wei Qing does his best not to distract him by doing crazy things, like trying to climb into his lap. Instead, he swipes through his phone, first carefully outlining today’s date in hearts on his (shared) calendar, then searching for date ideas that are appropriate for grown men who have lived together for years, but only recently figured out they liked to kiss one another.
The internet is endless, but the advice is sparse.
And the date ideas are weird enough to make him check repeatedly on whether certain things are memes or genuine suggestions. Making giant ice cream sundaes in industrial-sized mixing bowls? Eating them with novelty-sized chocolate bars?
…Is…is this a fetish thing?
Jason Derulo, what on earth have they done to you?
By the time they arrive home, their fifteen-minute drive stretched to thirty by their fellow man’s inability to deal with a bit of street flooding, Wei Qing is well and truly confused. It seems… He’s never been one to plan his dates? In his only two ‘real’ relationships (though he’d rather play by this rebirth’s rules and not count Yang Wushe at all, thanks), his partner had been the one steering the ship. And in his dalliances between those two depressing bookends-
Eh, it seems he’d mostly just planned where to fuck, more than any type of bonding activity. Sheesh. Maybe he really was scum. But this scum is reforming! And committed to being as diligent a boyfriend as Yue Fei is an assistant. But he’ll need some help with it.
Luckily, his brain hole is not so big that he thinks asking Gao Zhong for advice is wise.
Probably, if he researches a little bit more he can make his way through the fetish forest and contrived high school dates and into something properly heartfelt. Yue Fei seemed to like the museum? And Wei Qing had certainly liked going there with him. So yeah, maybe more of that and less of the over-the-top instagrammable ideas that his phone is terrifying him with.
He doesn’t even think he can legally have that many balloons in a helicopter, not to mention the ethical ramifications given the global helium crisis. Of course, money can cover a multitude of sins, but he doubts Yue Fei would be impressed by such justifications.
Comrade Yue still probably wants to eat the rich; Capitalist Wei Qing still really wants to let him.
—
Wei Qing had antsily anticipated the end of their trip, but Yue Fei is rather sorry to pull into the private garage and enter the lift. Not because he’s regretting things, he’s not, exactly, just because–
What the fuck comes next?
What do normal people do in a situation like this? And even if he knew, can he really apply anything like normal to a situation as exceptional as theirs? They live together, already. They have been enmeshed for years, already.
That’s a lot of history to drag behind you when changing directions.
Blinking at one another as the elevator ascends, both seem to be uncertain about what should happen, when those doors next open. When they’re confronted with the quiet solitude of their shared apartment, and the two beds contained within (well, technically three, not that Wei Qing ever has the kind of guests that use that random queen on the other side of the foyer).
Wei Qing has needs that Yue Fei doesn’t know if he can meet. He wants to try, probably?
We’re sorry for MTLers or people who like using reading mode, but our translations keep getting stolen by aggregators so we’re going to bring back the copy protection. If you need to MTL please retype the gibberish parts.
But-
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Unfortunately, they arrive at the top floor before he’s made it much past his wavering commitment not to jump his bones.
Cursed express elevators and beautiful young men, never giving him enough time to think or plan. Neither man moves from their respective corners, and the poor elevator, with its well-programmed manners, just waits. After all, the penthouse elevator is private– it’s not like anyone else will call on it unless some firefighter brothers unexpectedly have to do a safety check.
It allows the silence to stretch.
At least the thing doesn’t have a clock to tell them how long they stay in this strange staring contest that they are both losing. Eventually, Yue Fei coughs, ears bright red, and breaks protocol by exiting first. As an assistant, it’s not his normal routine, but he has a feeling that this is the first of many little routines they will need to tweak, as private and personal collide around them.
By the time he’s toeing off his dress shoes, Wei Qing has shuffled in behind him. Based on the too-polished ebony panels of their shoe nook, Yue Fei’s not the only one blushing, with no idea what to do with his hands. Yue Fei sighs and relaxes enough to actually sit on the padded leather stool that will assist his suddenly uncoordinated fingers. As long as Wei Qing is also wrong-footed, they can slowly learn together. That would be his preference, and-
Wei Qing sits in his lap.
Or this. This can also be his preference.
Wei Qing bites the tip of his nose only to instantly apologize. “Sorry! I don’t know why I thought that would be a sexy thing to do…” Yue Fei chuckles and throws his concerns temporarily to the side, catching Wei Qing’s back and holding him light but steady as the nervousness almost sends his adorable ass to the unforgiving marble floor.
“Sexy is overrated. Cute is good too.” He means it. He’s probably not capable of returning sexiness– er– not for more than a few minutes.
What?
Look, it had been a very, very long time since he’s had anything that could be called a social orgasm. He has things that he’s been avoiding addressing. And he has very deep and complex feelings for his boss. He’s more than a little nervous that he’ll either be so in his head that he won’t be able to perform at all, or that he’ll perform too earnestly for Wei Qing to even have time to ask for an encore before his set is over.
Yue Fei…doesn’t want to be a disappointment.
He wants to measure up, and quite frankly, he’s facing an intimidatingly long lineup of past performers.
So yes. For Yue Fei, cute is really, truly excellent! Let’s slowly walk towards cuteness, and avoid anything too scintillating until I have a deep chat with my equipment about my new expectations for it, and for your happiness.
So even with someone that he’s died for and killed for and returned to life for sitting on his lap and kissing him like he’s an oasis in the desert, Yue Fei manages to control his pace and control their momentum. He enjoys learning how their mouths can fit together, and how ticklish Wei Qing is, just under his left ear (and only his left ear, how strange).
Yue Fei always thought this little bench was pretty useless, but now he thinks it fulfills a very important function: Letting them kiss and explore and sigh against one another in a place so cramped and awkwardly uncomfortable that they can’t lay one another out and dive in, no matter how much leave they take of their senses.
Again, there’s no clock to document the embarrassing amount of time it takes for two grown men to take off two pairs of shoes, two ties, two jackets, six buttons on two shirts–
“Wei Qing. Ha~ be good.”
Yue Fei captures Wei Qing’s hands, which are tracing dangerous patterns against his lower belly (where it turns out, he is also ticklish). One broad and callused palm wraps around Wei Qing’s thinner wrists, bringing them up in a bastardization of prayer and laying reverential kisses against those knuckles. For him, this is close to true religion, and Wei Qing must see some of that in his gaze because he hides his face against Yue Fei’s neck, docile and overwhelmed by the seriousness of the look he’d been given.
Like he can feel the promises Yue Fei’s making.
—
Naturally, for Wei Qing, who has always wanted to be good, be praised, be worthy, that one command and the adoration that follow after are enough to meet all his needs. Enough to send him into his own bed, alone, with just a sweet kiss at the door, like Yue Fei is walking him home, even when they live together and the difference between their two rooms is only the length of the living and dining rooms.
Wei Qing bites against his pillow and thumps his feet against the mattress. By the time he calms down, he has no idea if his breathlessness comes from all his dreams coming true, or suffocation.
Probably both?
He brushes his teeth and blushes even more deeply when he has to confront his love-drunk appearance in the tragically expansive mirror that hangs all the way along one wall of his long and sleek bathroom. He can’t stop smiling. Twenty-four, older if you count those four cursed years of his last life, yet he’s still so excited that he chokes a bit on his own toothpaste foam and ends up staining his four-thousand yuan shirt. Eh~ at least toothpaste washes out. Probably? He admits he’s not much of an adult, especially at the moment.
He’ll definitely need to expand his laundry duties as well! He has a feeling he’ll be slack-jawed a lot in the near future. After all, Yue Fei is really too wonderful. So wonderful that he’d clean forgotten to ask him to be his boyfriend officially, or asked about his hookups, or any of those other things that he’d meant to do before Yue Fei had kissed him so adoringly and convinced his soul to leave his body.
It’s a nice problem to have.
And they have all the time in the world now, don’t they? Wei Qing falls asleep dreaming of all those glories that he wants to someday be qualified to explore. He doesn’t think of Gao Zhong at all.
—
Across the city, in a carefully cultivated scholar’s retreat, Gao Zhong swirls his port, reads a book, and waits for a conciliatory phone call that never comes. After a few hours, he indulgently scoffs at his little ex-lover’s shyness. No doubt the boy is too embarrassed to reach out. Poor, silly thing. But he has grown into his looks, filled out nicely, despite all that hard living Gao Zhong had heard about. He indulges Wei Qing by sending the first text, opening a door for whatever cute apology his little bunny is planning.
The message bounces back.
Evidently, Wei Qing has learned how to block him. Daring.
Gao Zhong’s eyes grow dark in time with the falling moon, his fingers tapping against the glass in something that he would call amused, but is actually annoyed. Not that he’d admit to such an out-of-control emotion, of course. Not on behalf of someone like Wei Qing.
“Heh. It seems A’Qing has grown up to be a little interesting after all. Well, it would be rude not to play.”
—
The next morning, Wei Qing wakes up to the smell of toast- er, burnt toast? It’s a strange misstep from the usually impeccable Yue Fei, and Wei Qing quickly but gracelessly manages to find sweatpants to cover his near-nakedness. He doesn’t bother with a shirt. After all, now that they’re basically together, that’s okay, right?
…Halfway out, he changes his mind and slings on a white henley. He doesn’t want to be accused of not being good! Then he has to go back and brush his teeth, then he decides that even if he doesn’t have time to shower, he should at least try to tame his hair a little, no reason to give up completely the minute the man returns his interest.
Anyway, by the time he actually exits his little oasis of eager pre-breakfast primping for his beau, the toast is definitely burned. Yue Fei is not in the kitchen. Wei Qing unplugs the toaster like a charmingly ill-educated child and wanders around, looking for his missing man.
His man. How nice.
He finds him in their foyer, near that stool that he can no longer look at without blushing, standing in front of the service elevator, frowning at some sort of monster made out of greenery and recently-murdered hyacinths and roses. Ah, no, it actually appears to be an extremely decadent arrangement of recently-murdered hyacinths and roses, held up by a very patient bellboy.
That makes more sense, but still makes very little sense at all.
Wei Qing walks over and, seizing the day (and the privacy afforded by that poor bellboy having his whole vision taken over by stems and shrubbery) kisses Yue Fei on the cheek.
“What’s this then?”
“A gift.”
Well, that’s an emotion that he hasn’t heard for a while. Does Yue Fei hate gifts? Or flowers? Or this poor bellboy? Eh, based on his tone of voice and that martyred toast, he certainly hates something. But the way Yue Fei strokes Wei Qing’s pinkie assures him that it’s not him, so he’s inquisitive instead of worried. Who knows, maybe that bellboy murdered his whole family? Or flowers did? Such big arrangements could probably be deadly…
“And why do we loathe this gift?” His tone is curious, light, happy.
“Gao Zhong sent it. Along with a new phone, since yours appears broken. To him.” Yue Fei’s teeth click with the way he bites the words as he says them. Wei Qing finds it oddly attractive. He wonders what Yue Fei’s bite strength is. How long the marks would linger if he-
Focus.
“…Wait, why?” Wei Qing doesn’t mind, necessarily, but the more Yue Fei dislikes Gao Zhong, the more bewildered Wei Qing becomes. It’s like re-reading a favorite book, only to find an entire chapter that you somehow skipped somewhere in the middle. As far as he knows, Yue Fei isn’t the jealous type. He is far too put-together and mature for that. (Probably?) And if he was that type, he probably wouldn’t be able to bear somewhat with as colorful a history as Wei Qing.
“Because he’s a scheming sack of shit.” Yue Fei’s answer is almost a growl, and it does things to Wei Qing.
Sure enough! This isn’t envy, this is protectiveness! Wei Qing’s heart swells.
“Well, then let’s not accept them.” Wei Qing squats down, trying to meet their little porter’s eyes through the undergrowth. (It’s hopeless). “Hey, you! Bellboy with the shaking arms, super sorry about that~ How about this, you take that thing back down and put it somewhere nice in the lobby or your girlfriend’s house or a nursing home, and you can take the phone as a tip? It’s probably an expensive one.”
He gently push-nudge-guides the confused young man back into the service elevator and sends it down; he never even looks at the unopened card or checks the (very, very expensive) phone that is nestled alongside the sprays of white and pink and velvet blue.
Yue Fei clears his throat, acting falsely nonchalant, like the person who wanted to tear apart a flower arrangement just now wasn’t him.
“Not interested?”
“Why would I be? You’ve never been wrong, if you say he’s a schemer, he is one.”
Wei Qing isn’t going to torture himself over someone that dropped him when he struggled and reappeared to reap the benefits when he recovered. Since Gao Zhong found it so easy to pick up and drop their ‘connection’, Wei Qing feels no psychological pressure over following his example and dropping his own cordiality. The past is the past, looking at it too closely will just sour the memories, turning wine into vinegar. He’d rather not look back too closely and shatter the illusion.
Anyway, he has a very accomplished boyfriend to chase. He doesn’t have time to take care of flowers from another man! And if Gao Zhong was one of the people Yue Fei had purged from his phone when he first promised to be good and celibate, Wei Qing can accept that.
This both pleases and distresses the man himself. Yue Fei rubs their foreheads together, eyes shut like he’s fighting a headache.
“Wei Qing- you should be a little more on guard. What if I’m trying to isolate you from your friends?”
“As I already told Gao Zhong, that’s not what friendship is.” Wei Qing shrugs, wondering if he will build up any new shoulder muscles at how often he’s doing that. “Anyway, I already have a phone, and pollen makes my eyes itch. Isn’t it more benevolent to send his regards off to someone who will better enjoy them?” What’s he going to do with flowers but watch them wither?
It’s a very pretty way to pass the pot, but Yue Fei feels the need to try again.
“Wei Qing-”
“Okay, alright, I promise not to listen to unreasonable demands. I just don’t consider you unreasonable, yeah?” Wei Qing smiles and steals another taste of Yue Fei’s cheek. “Although the poor toast might have a different opinion…” Another kiss, just at the edge of his collar and his neck.
Yue Fei’s eyes widen at his dereliction of duty. That, at least, is enough to get him out of the funk in the foyer and back into the kitchen. Sadly, breakfast really can’t be salvaged. They end up ordering up dumplings and coffee instead, Yue Fei’s impulse to pamper reduced to stirring in honey and carefully choosing the most perfectly filled of the options for his boss.
Poor Yue Fei is really having the oddest of mornings, but Wei Qing is happy as a clam.
Author’s Corner:
How to define Yue Fei’s experience with relationships?
Two extremes. Super, criminally unhealthy, or totally theoretical and learned out of psychology lectures. Which is probably starting to show, a bit. He probably has a checklist hidden in his pocket. He probably feels the need to regularly consult it. Wei Qing is probably going to spend a lot of time kissing him out of worrying about whether he’s being diligent enough in his Care and Feeding of His Boyfriend. Probably.
Love every bit of this chapter as always
Thank you for posting ~
I’ve come to the realization that Yue Fei is essentially Scott Pilgram, fighting off Wei Qing’s Evil Exes. Good luck, Yue Fei! 🙏 I am melting from the continued stream of sweetness flowing through the past several chapters and hopefully onward
Haha good comparison! He’s definitely winning.
Annnnd our good boy Wei Qing attracted another ugly wasp, good thing he only has eyes for his beloved assistant. I can’t wait to see them both heal each other with the power of love lol (ﾉ*>∀<)ﾉ♡
As always, thanks for the update~ 💕
There are always the ones who say they’re fine with a colorful history, then subtly use it to make their partner feel inferior. Yue Fei is not only genuine, but he’s still guarding himself against it anyway. Wei Qing is definitely justified in his giddy excitement.
They. Are. So. Damn. Cute!
Ughh another self-centered bastard 😒 and our babies are so cute together 🤭
Thank you for the update ❤️💯
Said it before (not here, to friends) but i LOVE how Wei Qing is smart and sensible and has some Basic Fucking Sense to aviod clichés. Good for him, how nice