Chapter Text
Wu Suo Wei’s palms pressed into the worn fabric of the couch, shoulders braced as Chi Cheng’s hips slammed forward, driving him hard against the cushions. The rhythm was fast, deep—every thrust pulling a guttural moan from his throat, the sound low but unrestrained. His back arched into it, pushing back just enough to meet each movement. Chi Cheng’s breath was hot and uneven behind him, a low growl slipping through clenched teeth as his grip tightened.
Wu Suo Wei knew exactly how to shift, how to tighten and ease in quick, controlled pulses that made Chi Cheng’s breath hitch, a quiet, involuntary sound breaking past his guard. He heard the curse against his ear, felt the fingers at his hips dig in harder, heat pooling low in his belly with every reaction he pulled from the man behind him.
“Always so eager,” Chi Cheng’s voice came out rough against his ear, his chest brushing Wu Suo Wei’s back as he leaned in for the next thrust.
Wu Suo Wei’s mouth curved in a smirk he didn’t bother hiding. “Can you blame me when you fuck like this?” he shot back, the words breaking into a groan when Chi Cheng rolled his hips just right.
The couch creaked beneath them, one of Wu Suo Wei’s knees slipping against the leather until Chi Cheng caught him, one hand sliding down to pull his thigh wider. The stretch burned, sweet and sharp, his muscles straining with the angle, and Wu Suo Wei bit down on his lip—then pushed back harder. The wet slap of skin filled the small space, Chi Cheng’s stomach pressing flush to his back, his breath ragged against the curve of Wu Suo Wei’s neck.
When release hit, it was quick and hard, Wu Suo Wei’s fingers clenching tight at the back of the couch. His head tipped forward, breaths heavy, the world narrowing to the pulse between them and the hot cock inside him. Behind him, Chi Cheng’s grip tightened with a low, sharp exhale, hips pressing deep before he finally slowed, not pulling out right away, his hands still holding him in place until the shuddering eased.
They stayed like that for a few seconds, sweat cooling, before Chi Cheng finally stepped back. The space between them felt heavier than the air in the room, the heat still clinging to Wu Suo Wei’s skin in slow, reluctant waves. His muscles ached from the strain, breath still uneven as he shifted his weight and pushed himself upright to sit down on the couch. Only then did he reach for the cigarette pack on the table.
Chi Cheng didn’t bother dressing, the faint sheen still clinging to his skin as he crossed the room and dropped into the armchair opposite. His hair was damp with sweat, dark strands falling into his eyes as he watched Wu Suo Wei light up and take the first drag.
The quiet stretched, easy but charged, like neither was in a hurry to break it. Eventually, Chi Cheng stretched lazily, pushing himself to his feet. “I should shower,” he said, glancing toward the bathroom.
Wu Suo Wei took another slow pull of smoke, flicking ash into the tray. “We could get food after. Or watch something.”
Chi Cheng gave him a look, faint amusement in his eyes. “Can’t. I’m heading to the club.”
He didn’t need to explain. Wu Suo Wei knew exactly what that meant—loud music, too much alcohol, and surrounded by people who’d be glad to have sex with him, an offer Chi Cheng would never turn down. The thought left a faint, unwelcome twist low in his chest, but he kept his expression flat.
He shrugged like it didn’t matter. “Your loss.”
The water started running. Wu Suo Wei sat for another minute, staring at the cigarette burning down between his fingers. He stubbed out his cigarette, stood, and pulled on his jeans. He didn’t bother leaving a note. By the time Chi Cheng stepped out of the shower, the apartment was empty.
Outside, the night air was cooler than he expected. He shoved his hands into his pockets and started walking, the quiet streets swallowing the sound of his steps. His mind drifted, circling a place he knew all too well—one he’d built walls around long ago. He kept moving, careful not to let himself slip past them.
Eventually, his thoughts landed on the one person he could drop in on without an invitation. Jiang Xiao Shuai would be home.
By the time he reached Jiang Xiao Shuai’s building, the tightness in his chest hadn’t eased. He climbed the stairs two at a time, knocked once before letting himself in.
“You again?” Jiang Xiao Shuai didn’t look up from the couch, but the dry tone carried its own greeting. “What’s it this time?”
Wu Suo Wei dropped into the armchair opposite, elbows braced on his knees. “It’s nothing,” he said, which was how every conversation like this started.
“Nothing… of course,” Jiang Xiao Shuai said, finally glancing over, “but you’ve got that look again.”
“What look?”
“The one that says you’re here to dump a mess in my lap and call it a conversation.”
Wu Suo Wei slouched deeper into the chair, running a hand through his hair. “It’s not a mess. It’s just… Chi Cheng.”
Jiang Xiao Shuai groaned, throwing his head back against the couch. “See? Mess.”
“It’s not—” Wu Suo Wei started, then stopped, rubbing at his jaw. “We were just hanging out. Then he—” He broke off, shrugging like the rest didn’t matter.
“Let me guess,” Jiang Xiao Shuai cut in. “You slept with him. Again.”
Wu Suo Wei didn’t answer, which was answer enough.
“See! I knew it,” Jiang Xiao Shuai snapped, sitting forward. “And I’m tired of having the same damn conversation with you every time this happens.” His voice was sharp, but the undercurrent wasn’t anger—it was protective. “You keep letting him treat you like you’re just one more night, and you keep coming back here, acting like it’s nothing.”
Wu Suo Wei kept his gaze fixed on the floor.
“I’ve told you before,” Jiang Xiao Shuai went on, softer but no less firm, “if you don’t draw a line, he never will. And I’m done watching you tear yourself up over someone who’s not even trying to meet you halfway.”
Wu Suo Wei forced a half-smile, the kind that was meant to look careless. “You can’t pin this on him. We both knew what this was from the start.”
Jiang Xiao Shuai’s brow furrowed. “What was it, exactly? Because every time you talk about him, it sounds a lot less casual than you want me to believe.”
“It’s not his fault if I—” Wu Suo Wei broke off, jaw working before he forced the words out. “If I caught feelings. He never said he wanted anything more.”
“That’s exactly the problem!” Jiang Xiao Shuai shot back. “You keep acting like that makes it fine for him to treat you like you’re disposable.”
Wu Suo Wei shook his head. “He doesn’t want a relationship. His last one—” He let out a short breath through his nose. “That’s why I took him in that night, he was drunk. It messed him up. And I’m not going to hold that against him.”
Jiang Xiao Shuai threw his hands up. “So what? You’re just going to keep letting him come and go like nothing? Let him use you as some kind of rebound, over and over?”
Wu Suo Wei’s voice flattened. “It’s not like that.”
Jiang Xiao Shuai leaned back, rubbing a hand over his face. “You know what I think? It’s time you put some distance between you two. You don’t have to jump into bed with him every time he so much as looks at you.”
Wu Suo Wei huffed a short laugh. “Easier said than done.”
“I’m serious,” Jiang Xiao Shuai pressed. “Good sex—” he jabbed a finger toward him “—you can get that anywhere. Don’t act like he’s the only one who can give you that.”
Wu Suo Wei didn’t answer. Privately, he wasn’t so sure.
Seeing his silence, Jiang Xiao Shuai’s tone softened. “I’m not saying you have to cut him off completely. Just… maybe stop letting him be your whole damn social life. Go out with other people, see what’s out there.”
Wu Suo Wei raised an eyebrow. “What, like dating?”
“Like breathing,” Jiang Xiao Shuai shot back. “You’re acting like he’s the only option you’ve got. He’s not.”
Wu Suo Wei let the words hang between them, staring at a faint scratch on the coffee table as if it were suddenly worth studying. He gave a noncommittal shrug, the kind that was meant to close the subject, but the weight in his chest didn’t shift.
Other people weren’t the problem.
Jiang Xiao Shuai gave him a long look, then leaned back with a sigh. “Alright. You don’t want to cut him off? Fine. But you’re coming with me this weekend. There’s a party—good people, good music. Might help you remember there’s more to life than him.”
Wu Suo Wei snorted. “You make it sound like I’m locked in a basement.”
“I’m making it sound like you’re stuck in a loop,” Jiang Xiao Shuai said, eyes narrowing. “And you need to break it.”
For a moment, Wu Suo Wei considered brushing it off. But the idea of walking in somewhere with other people—of proving to himself he could—dug in just enough. “Fine,” he said, the word sharper than it needed to be. “I’ll come.”
Jiang Xiao Shuai’s expression eased, though not entirely. “Good. Wear something that doesn’t scream: ‘I’m here against my will.’”
Wu Suo Wei smirked, though it didn’t reach his eyes. Not like I’m doing it for them anyway.
The party wasn’t much to brag about—too loud, too warm, too many people talking over each other. Wu Suo Wei nursed a drink, letting the condensation dampen his palm while Jiang Xiao Shuai dragged him from one introduction to the next. Most faces blurred together—people smiling too wide, laughing too loud. He was already calculating how long he had to stay before slipping out without it looking rude.
It wasn’t until one of the guests—a friend of a friend—caught him lingering by the drinks table that things shifted. They started talking about something simple, harmless. One subject turned into another, and before he realised it, the noise of the party had faded into the background. It wasn’t flirtation, not really—just easy, comfortable. When he left, there was a number in his phone and a casual suggestion to meet for dinner later that week.
He didn’t think much of it until a few days later, stretched out on the bed with Chi Cheng beside him, both still catching their breath.
“Got time on the weekend?” Chi Cheng asked, propping himself up on one elbow. “Movie, takeout… or we could hit that hot pot place you like. Been a while.”
Wu Suo Wei shook his head, reaching for his shirt. “Can’t. I’ve got a date.”
That earned him a pause. “A date?”
“Yeah. Someone I met at a party.” He glanced over, catching the faint shift in Chi Cheng’s expression, but didn’t add anything more.
For a moment, Chi Cheng just stared, as if the words didn’t quite add up. “A date?” he repeated, slower this time, like he was turning the concept over in his head. “Why waste time on that? If it’s sex you want, you can have it here—without wondering if the guy’s even worth the effort.”
“It’s not about sex,” Wu Suo Wei said, tugging his shirt over his head. “It’s a date to actually get to know someone.”
Chi Cheng’s eyes narrowed, his tone edging into disbelief. “Get to know someone? I just invited you to hot pot, a movie… the same shit you’re talking about. And you’d rather do that with some guy you barely know?”
Wu Suo Wei met his gaze, forcing his voice steady. “Yeah. That’s the point.”
For a long beat, Chi Cheng just looked at him, the muscle in his jaw shifting once before he leaned back against the headboard. “Huh.”
He let it drop. In his mind, there was no chance it would stick—no guy out there could handle Wu Suo Wei for long. Too much trouble, too sharp around the edges. Eventually, the novelty would wear off, and Wu Suo Wei would be right back where he always ended up.
The thought didn’t bother him. Or at least, it shouldn’t have. Before he’d even decided to move, his hand was on Wu Suo Wei’s waist, pulling him down onto the mattress again.
“If you’re wasting a weekend on some random guy, then you owe me now,” he said, tone lazy as if this were the natural trade-off.
Wu Suo Wei landed against Chi Cheng with a soft thud, catching himself with a palm against the other man’s chest.
A short breath slipped out, almost a laugh. “That’s not how it works.”
Heat seeped through the thin layer of skin and fabric, the familiar press of him winding through his body like muscle memory. For a split second, he could already see how it would go—how easy it would be to forget, to just let this happen.
If you don’t draw a line, he never will.
His fingers curled against Chi Cheng’s shirt, then pushed—lightly, but enough. “Still going,” he said, voice low but firm.
Chi Cheng let him go without protest, leaning back as if it didn’t matter, even though his eyes followed Wu all the way to the door.
The apartment was quiet once he left, too quiet. He stayed there for a while, staring at the ceiling. It wasn’t anger that lingered—just a kind of restless static under his skin.
He told himself it was fine. Wu Suo Wei would come back around, like he always did. Whatever this was, it would pass.
Chi Cheng hadn’t planned to stop by—at least, that’s what he told himself.
He’d waited after the weekend. A day more, then another. Normally Wu Suo Wei would’ve reached out by now—some offhand text, some lazy excuse to meet. Not for a talk. For the kind of night that didn’t need words.
But nothing came. No message, no call. Just silence that stretched a little too long to ignore.
Eventually, waiting started to feel like giving in.
Still, he was standing at Wu Suo Wei’s door, knocking twice before it swung open.
Wu Suo Wei blinked at him, clearly not expecting company. His hair was damp, shirt hanging open, the faint bite of cologne in the air. “Uh… hey.”
“You going somewhere?” Chi Cheng stepped inside without waiting, eyes tracking the damp strands clinging to Wu Suo Wei’s neck.
“Yeah,” Wu Suo Wei said over his shoulder, already walking toward the bedroom.
Chi Cheng followed, leaning in the doorway as Wu Suo Wei moved around the small space. Clothes were scattered across the bed in organised chaos, a belt coiled like an afterthought. He picked through them with quick, practiced motions—watch clasped, shirt buttoned halfway, fingers smoothing the fabric over his chest.
“With whom?”
“Friend.” The answer came easily, but Wu Suo Wei’s gaze stayed on the mirror.
“What kind of friend?”
Wu Suo Wei bent to pull a pair of shoes from under the bed, taking his time before replying. “Name is Wang Zhen.”
The name meant nothing to him. “Don’t know him.”
“Probably not,” Wu Suo Wei said, sliding a shoe on. “He works at a security company.”
Chi Cheng’s arms folded across his chest. “And what else do I need to know about that guy?”
Wu Suo Wei glanced up, a flicker of amusement tugging at his mouth. “And… he’s tall. Strong. Knows a bit of martial arts. He’s teaching me some stuff.”
A faint pulse ticked at Chi Cheng’s jaw. He shifted his weight, blocking the narrow gap by the door as Wu Suo Wei stood to grab his phone.
“What do you two do?”
Wu Suo Wei’s thumbs moved over the screen, a small laugh breaking through. “You sound like you’re taking notes. We went to that new barbecue place last week. Very nice by the way—you have to try it. Tonight…” He slipped the phone into his pocket, reaching for his jacket. “…not sure yet. Maybe dinner again or he’s showing me some things.”
“What kind of things?”
“Kicks. Holds. Basics. He’s good at explaining it. He’s very nice.” Wu Suo Wei shrugged, brushing past him to check his reflection one last time.
Chi Cheng’s eyes followed the movement, his voice flat. “Yeah. Real nice.”
Wu Suo Wei gave a faint smirk, as if he’d missed the edge under the words—or was ignoring it.
Chi Cheng shifted away from the doorway just enough to step into his path. “You could skip it.” His tone was casual, but the way he planted himself there left little room to pass. “Stay here with me instead.”
Wu Suo Wei’s brows lifted. “And do what?”
One corner of Chi Cheng’s mouth curved. “Plenty of ways to make it worth your time.”
For a beat, Wu Suo Wei just looked at him, weighing it—then shook his head. “Not tonight.”
Chi Cheng didn’t move, his gaze steady, searching for the give he’d always been able to find. When Wu Suo Wei didn’t falter, he stepped aside, the faintest twitch at his jaw betraying more than his voice ever would.
Wu Suo Wei slipped past him, pulling his jacket into place as he crossed the small living room. Chi Cheng followed at a slower pace, hands in his pockets, watching him check his phone one last time before opening the door.
“Don’t wait up,” Wu Suo Wei said over his shoulder, half-smile in place as if it were nothing.
Chi Cheng leaned against the doorframe, the cool air from the hallway brushing past him as Wu Suo Wei stepped out. “Wasn’t planning to,” he replied, tone smooth enough to hide the pinch in his jaw.
The door clicked shut, and the quiet that followed was the wrong kind—thin, restless. Chi Cheng pushed off the frame, pacing once across the room before stopping with his hands still in his pockets. He didn’t like the picture in his head: Wu Suo Wei sitting across from some stranger, giving that radiant big smile to someone who hadn’t earned it.
He told himself it wasn’t worth thinking about. But the image stayed anyway.
It wasn’t that he missed him. Of course not. It was just… inconvenient. Disruptive. Like someone had taken apart a routine he hadn’t realised he’d started to like, leaving him with nothing but restless energy and the faint irritation of knowing Wu Suo Wei was giving his time to someone else.
By the end of the second week, the irritation had worn itself into something sharper. He caught himself checking his phone more often than he’d admit, scrolling back through his messages that hadn’t seen a reply in days.
A name popped up once on his feed—Wu Suo Wei tagged in some photo at a gym, smiling beside a group of people he didn’t know.
Chi Cheng grabbed his jacket, keys already in hand before he’d fully decided where he was going. He didn’t bother with a warning text—no point giving Wu Suo Wei a chance to come up with another excuse.
If he had time for overmuscled security-company maybe-boyfriends, he had time to answer a few messages.
Chi Cheng arrived with enough time to catch the last few minutes of the session. The place wasn’t much—bare walls, mats laid out, the sound of fists hitting pads carrying through the open windows. He leaned against the frame, letting the cool metal press into his shoulder, eyes scanning the group until they landed on Wu Suo Wei.
Sweat darkened the collar of Wu Suo Wei’s shirt, hair sticking in damp strands to his forehead as he moved through the drills.
When the session wrapped up, Chi Cheng stayed where he was, watching as Wu Suo Wei laughed at something the tall man next to him said. That had to be Wang Zhen—the security-company golden boy. Tall, broad, all squared shoulders and overconfident posture. The kind of guy who thought a tight T-shirt was a personality.
His jaw tightened. Of course the guy was showing off, demonstrating some hold while keeping his hands just a little too long on Wu Suo Wei’s waist.
Great technique, Chi Cheng thought dryly. If you’re trying to impress high schoolers.
Wang Zhen handed Wu Suo Wei a towel, leaning in to say something else. The smaller man smiled again—warm, bright, the kind of smile that used to be aimed only at him.
That was enough.
Chi Cheng pushed off the wall and crossed the distance, his steps unhurried but leaving no doubt where he was headed. Wu Suo Wei spotted him first, blinking in surprise, and in that split second Wang Zhen’s attention shifted too.
“Time to go,” Chi Cheng said, voice low but carrying. His hand closed lightly around Wu Suo Wei’s wrist—no force, just enough to leave no room for argument.
The smaller man froze for a second, gaze flicking between the two men. Wang Zhen’s eyes followed the line of their hands, lingered, then lifted slowly until they locked on Chi Cheng.
It wasn’t a casual glance. It was steady, measuring, like he was weighing exactly who stood in front of him.
Chi Cheng met it without a blink, letting the faintest curve touch his mouth—a shape that wasn’t quite a smile. Up close, the other man was even broader than he’d looked from a distance, solid in a way that suggested he could hold his ground.
Neither moved. The air between them tightened.
Then Chi Cheng shifted, turning just enough to bring Wu Suo Wei with him. His hold loosened only when the first step toward his goal was already taken.
Instead of leading him outside, he steered him down a short hallway off the main room. Wu Suo Wei glanced back once, but Wang Zhen hadn’t followed; the sounds of conversation and shuffling gear faded as they moved away.
The hall ended at the changing area—rows of lockers and a few enclosed stalls for privacy. Chi Cheng didn’t slow. He opened the nearest empty one, guided Wu Suo Wei inside, and closed the door behind them with a quiet click.
The space was barely wide enough for the two of them. Chi Cheng stayed where he was, shoulders filling the narrow gap, blocking the only way out.
The space smelled faintly of clean wood and laundry soap, a sharp contrast to the sweat still clinging to Wu Suo Wei’s skin. He stood close enough that Chi Cheng could feel the damp warmth rising from him, the quickened breath that hadn’t fully settled from training.
Chi Cheng’s gaze dropped briefly, taking in the flush across his collarbones, then came back up. “You looked busy out there.” The words were even, but the undercurrent wasn’t.
Wu Suo Wei’s eyes narrowed. “What is this, Chi Cheng? Why are you here?”
Chi Cheng’s jaw tightened. “Why am I here? Because you’ve been ducking me for two weeks. Thought I’d check if you still remember what I look like.”
Wu Suo Wei let out a sharp breath that was almost a laugh. “What, you keeping attendance now? I didn’t realise I had to report in.”
The edge in his voice bounced off the narrow walls, and for a moment neither of them moved. Chi Cheng’s eyes stayed locked on him, the line of his mouth flat, unreadable—but there was a tension in his shoulders that hadn’t been there a minute ago.
“Maybe you should,” he said, his tone still low, but stripped of any pretense of laziness.
He shifted just enough to close the last bit of space between them, his hand still around Wu Suo Wei’s wrist, the other braced against the wall beside his head. “Because when you disappear for two weeks, I start wondering what’s keeping you so busy.” His gaze flicked briefly toward the door, the unspoken reference to Wang Zhen sharp enough without naming him. “And why it’s not me.”
Wu Suo Wei’s shoulders tensed, but he didn’t step back—not that there was anywhere to go.
“You’ve got time for him,” Chi Cheng said, the words calm but with an edge that bit deeper for how quiet they were. “Guess I’m wondering why that same time never makes it my way anymore.”
Wu Suo Wei’s jaw worked, he looked away briefly, focusing on some spot over Chi Cheng’s shoulder, before muttering, “It’s not like I’ve been avoiding you. I just… had other things to do.”
Chi Cheng’s mouth curved, slow and humorless. “Other things,” he echoed, as if testing the taste of the words. His grip on Wu Suo Wei’s wrist eased, only to slide higher along his arm, the shift in touch deliberate, like he was re-mapping territory that had been left alone too long. “You make it sound like I’m somewhere at the bottom of your list.”
“You think I’m just sitting around waiting for you to show up?” Wu Suo Wei shot back. “Not everything’s about you.”
The words landed hard, leaving a tight pause between them. Chi Cheng’s eyes narrowed, his gaze dropping briefly to Wu Suo Wei’s mouth before coming back up.
“Maybe not everything,” he said quietly. “But this is.”
Then, without warning, Chi Cheng closed the gap again—until Wu Suo Wei’s back was flush against the wall.
The kiss hit hard, stealing breath before thought could catch up. Chi Cheng’s hand closed at his jaw, deepening it, the taste of him sharp and heady. Wu Suo Wei’s fingers pressed at his chest—not enough to break free, just enough to find air again. Their mouths parted with a thin string of saliva between.
“If you think this gets you what you want,” Wu Suo Wei said, lips still wet, “you’re wasting your time.”
One of Chi Cheng’s brows lifted, the ghost of a laugh under his breath. “You sure about that?”
“Pretty sure,” Wu Suo Wei said, though his voice had the faint catch of someone who wasn’t entirely sure.
Chi Cheng let the words hang for a moment, his gaze fixed, as if weighing whether to press or wait. Then he stepped in again, slow. “Funny. Because it felt a lot like you wanted this too.”
Wu Suo Wei’s eyes narrowed. “You’re imagining things.”
“Am I?” His tone was soft, but the way his hand slid from Wu Suo Wei’s wrist to his jaw was anything but.
The touch drew a shiver he couldn’t stop. His breath hitched—barely, but enough—and his eyes flicked up to meet Chi Cheng’s before darting away again. He didn’t move back, didn’t speak, just stood there caught between resistance and something that felt too close to want.
A thumb brushed along the edge of his mouth, lingering there like he was considering another kiss. “That’s what I thought,” Chi Cheng murmured, his voice low. “You wouldn’t just leave. Not after we haven’t seen each other this long.”
The breath Wu Suo Wei took was a little too sharp, a little too audible.
Chi Cheng noticed. His mouth curved just slightly. “Keep telling yourself you don’t want this. I’ll wait.”
But he didn’t. His mouth grazed the corner of Wu Suo Wei’s jaw, warm breath cutting through the cooler air of the small space. The shift in touch was subtle but unmistakable—less a question, more a reminder.
Wu Suo Wei’s hands twitched at his sides, caught between pushing him away and holding on.
“So… am I still imagining things?” Chi Cheng murmured.
Wu Suo Wei’s gaze flicked briefly to his eyes, then away. “You’re reading too much into this,” he said, his voice quieter now.
“Am I?” Chi Cheng’s hand slid from his arm to his waist, fingers pressing through the damp cling of his shirt until there was no mistaking the claim in the hold.
Wu Suo Wei swallowed. “You think you can just—”
“I don’t think,” Chi Cheng cut in, his mouth trailing just below his ear. “I know.”
That landed heavier than it should have. Wu Suo Wei didn’t move when the hand at his waist hooked into the hem of his damp shirt, lifting it slowly. The fabric bunched under Chi Cheng’s fingers, exposing a strip of warm skin.
“That’s what you came here for?” Wu Suo Wei asked, the rasp in his voice undercutting the bite of the question.
Chi Cheng’s mouth curved. “Came here to see you. This just happens to be one more reason.”
His hips pressed in, pinning Wu Suo Wei against the wall with the solid weight of his body. One hand slid to his hip, fingers curling in with a grip that was equal parts steady and possessive. The other traced a path up his side, catching briefly at the hem of his shirt before sliding beneath, palm meeting heated skin.
“You’ve got a hell of a way of saying you missed me,” Wu Suo Wei muttered. His voice broke slightly at the end as Chi Cheng’s thumb dragged along the sharp line of his hipbone.
Chi Cheng’s mouth brushed the corner of his jaw in a slow pass that could have been mistaken for restraint—if not for the way his fingers splayed lower, hooking just inside the waistband. “Didn’t hear you say I was wrong.”
Wu Suo Wei’s hands twitched, his fingers curling into the fabric of Chi Cheng’s shirt. The hesitation was brief—too brief to be a real push away.
When Chi Cheng’s knuckles grazed the trail of heat just above the elastic, Wu Suo Wei’s breath caught. “Maybe I don’t feel like proving anything,” he said, the defiance muted by the way his body leaned into the contact.
“That so?” Chi Cheng’s tone was unhurried, but his hand was sure—pressing in just enough to make his point, his thumb brushing over the outline beneath the thin fabric in a slow, claiming pass.
Wu Suo Wei’s jaw tightened, but he didn’t move when deft fingers hooked into the drawstring at his waist and tugged it loose. The faint rasp of fabric sliding free was loud in the narrow space, followed by the stretch of the waistband easing under Chi Cheng’s grip.
“Arrogant bastard,” Wu Suo Wei muttered, but the bite was gone, smoothed over by the sharp inhale that followed when Chi Cheng’s hand slipped inside.
“Mm,” Chi Cheng hummed against his jaw, his grip warm and sure. “You say that now… but you don’t sound like you want me to stop.”
“I didn’t say that either,” Wu Suo Wei shot back, though his head tipped back against the wall, exposing the curve of his throat without thought.
“That’s what I like about you.” Chi Cheng’s teeth grazed the edge of his jaw before his mouth found the sensitive spot just beneath his ear. “Always ready to argue—until I get my hands on you.”
Wu Suo Wei’s fingers tightened in Chi Cheng’s shirt. His hips shifted forward into the touch, the motion almost involuntary. “You’re wrong,” he muttered, but his voice had lost its earlier edge.
“Keep telling yourself that,” Chi Cheng murmured, his voice low enough to vibrate against Wu Suo Wei’s skin. His hand never slowed, each stroke measured, as if he had all the time in the world. “But don’t disappear on me again.”
Wu Suo Wei let out a short, uneven breath—half from the demand, half from the way Chi Cheng’s thumb dragged just right. His body was already starting to give in, that familiar, dangerous pull spreading through his stomach. For a moment, he let himself drift with it—let the sound, the warmth, the rhythm blur everything else away.
Then Jiang Xiao Shuai’s voice cut through the haze, sharp and impossible to ignore. “Let him use you over and over?”
The thought hit like cold water.
Wu Suo Wei’s breath caught. He pushed against Chi Cheng’s chest, hard enough to break the rhythm, to make the other still. The sudden distance left the air between them ragged.
Chi Cheng blinked, the confusion quick and unguarded. “What—”
Wu Suo Wei stepped back, pulling his shirt down, fingers fumbling at the hem as he straightened it. “Stop.”
He ignored the way Chi Cheng’s hand hovered in the air for a second, like it wasn’t sure what to do with the space. Wu Suo Wei adjusted his clothes, every movement sharper than it needed to be. “You should go.”
The words came out rougher than he meant them to, still catching on his breath. He didn’t look up as he spoke, just focused on straightening his shirt, anything to keep his hands busy.
Chi Cheng stilled. For a second, it was quiet except for their breathing. “What?”
“I said you should go.” Wu Suo Wei’s voice was steadier this time, though the tremor underneath gave him away.
Chi Cheng’s brows drew together. “Now? In the middle of this?”
Wu Suo Wei let out a short laugh that didn’t sound amused. “You don’t always get what you want.”
That made Chi Cheng’s head tilt, the shift in his expression small but sharp. “That what you think this is?”
“It’s what it’s always been.” Wu Suo Wei finally looked up, meeting his gaze for the first time. “Don’t act like it’s more than that.”
Something in Chi Cheng’s face flickered—confusion first, then irritation, then something quieter. “You never had a problem with it before.”
“Yeah, well.” Wu Suo Wei’s throat worked as he swallowed. “Maybe I just stopped pretending it doesn’t bother me.”
Chi Cheng stepped closer, not enough to touch, but enough to make Wu Suo Wei’s breath hitch. “Since when?”
“Since now.”
Chi Cheng just watched him, jaw tight, shoulders rising with a slow breath that sounded too calm to be real. “Fine.”
Wu Suo Wei hesitated for a second, enough for Chi Cheng to notice. Then he nodded once, like it settled something, even if it didn’t. He stepped back, eyes lingering one last time before he turned and left. The sound of the door closing was soft—but final.
For a long moment, Wu Suo Wei didn’t move. The locker room was still, the smell of soap and sweat hanging in the air. His pulse was finally slowing, but the heat under his skin hadn’t faded.
He dragged a hand over his face and let out a quiet breath that might’ve been a laugh. He’d actually done it—pushed Chi Cheng away. For once, he hadn’t folded.
The small spark of pride was there, brief and fragile, but it twisted almost immediately into something heavier. The silence pressed in again, sharper this time.
He stared at the closed door, jaw tight, trying to convince himself it was better this way. But the longer he stood there, the clearer it became—he didn’t really want Chi Cheng to stay gone.
Chi Cheng lit his cigarette and leaned back against the window frame, the city lights throwing faint reflections across his bare chest. The air was cool, drifting in through the half-open pane, but it did nothing to settle the restless pulse under his skin.
He took a slow drag, exhaled, watched the smoke curl toward the ceiling. He wasn’t angry. Not exactly. Just… off balance.
Wu Suo Wei had pushed him away before—verbally, in theory, with words that never held. But not like this. Not when Chi Cheng could still feel the heat of his body, the sound of his voice cracking against his ear.
He tapped the ash into the tray, jaw tightening.
What the hell had that been?
Wu Suo Wei hadn’t looked scared, or disgusted. Just… determined. Like someone trying to keep a promise he didn’t even believe in.
Chi Cheng let out a quiet scoff, the corner of his mouth twitching into something that wasn’t quite a smile. “Idiot,” he muttered to the empty room.
Still, he couldn’t shake it—the way Wu Suo Wei’s hands had trembled, the way he’d said stop like it was something he’d practiced.
He took another drag, the taste harsh against his tongue. He told himself it didn’t matter, that Wu Suo Wei would come around like he always did.
But the thought didn’t sit right.
Wu Suo Wei had never said stop before. Not once. Not in years of knowing each other, of crossing that blurred line between friendship and everything else. The word kept echoing, soft but wrong, like it didn’t belong to the man he knew.
Chi Cheng exhaled through his nose, smoke trailing past his lips. Maybe it was that security guy—Wang Zhen. But that didn’t explain the look in Wu Suo Wei’s eyes when he said it.
He frowned, tapping ash into the tray, the gesture sharper than it needed to be.
What the hell was really going on with him?
Days passed.
Wu Suo Wei told himself he was fine—that distance was what he’d wanted. It even worked for a while. The city felt quieter without Chi Cheng in it, the kind of quiet that should’ve been peaceful. But it wasn’t.
He kept expecting a message. A call. Something.
Before all of this—before sex and the mess that came with it—they’d been friends. That counted for something, didn’t it?
Yet his phone stayed silent.
By the fourth day, irritation began to outweigh confusion. It wasn’t anger, not really—just that restless mix of disbelief and pride twisting tighter in his chest. Chi Cheng had never been one to chase, but to vanish completely? That was new.
Jiang Xiao Shuai noticed it before Wu Suo Wei said a word. “You’re checking your phone like it owes you money,” he said dryly, from across the clinic desk.
Wu Suo Wei snapped the screen dark and shoved it into his pocket. “I’m not.”
“Sure.”
He ignored him, flipping through a patient chart he wasn’t really reading. The paper crinkled between his fingers, loud in the small office.
It wasn’t like he wanted to talk to Chi Cheng. He just… thought Chi would at least try. They’d spent years talking about everything and nothing, even before things got complicated. Was that gone now too?
The thought sat heavier than he wanted to admit.
That evening, he met Wang Zhen for dinner again. It wasn’t a date—not officially—but the restaurant was too quiet, too warm, and Wang Zhen had picked a table that felt like one anyway.
They talked easily at first. Work. Training schedules. Small things that didn’t require much thought. Wang Zhen was good at that—keeping a conversation light, steady, simple.
Wu Suo Wei tried to match his energy, nodding where he should, smiling when he caught the other man’s eye. But the effort wore thin fast.
He found himself watching the street behind Wang Zhen instead—the blur of headlights, the people passing by. For every second of silence, his mind drifted somewhere else.
He wondered if Chi Cheng was at the club again. If he was with someone. If he even remembered that last night.
“Hey,” Wang Zhen said, snapping him back. “You good?”
“Yeah.” Wu Suo Wei forced a small smile and reached for his glass. “Just tired.”
“You work too much.”
“Maybe.”
Wang Zhen chuckled, leaning back in his chair. “You always say that like it’s a lie.”
Wu Suo Wei laughed softly, more out of politeness than amusement. The sound didn’t linger.
He let the man keep talking—about a new sparring partner, a promotion, something about a gym opening—but the words blurred together, distant.
Every time he blinked, he saw Chi Cheng instead—the tilt of his head, the sound of his voice, that look he gave right before he said don’t disappear on me again.
When Wang Zhen called for the bill, Wu Suo Wei didn’t even realise the meal was over. Outside, the air had cooled, carrying the faint smell of rain that hadn’t fallen yet. Neon lights from the shop signs painted streaks across the wet pavement as they stepped out.
Wang Zhen walked beside him, hands in his jacket pockets, easy in the silence. “You want to grab a drink somewhere?” he asked after a moment, casual but not careless.
Wu Suo Wei hesitated. The offer was simple—harmless, even. A drink. A bar. A chance to be anywhere but in his own head.
But the pause stretched too long, and that was answer enough.
Wang Zhen gave a half-smile, polite but knowing. “Another time, then.”
“Yeah,” Wu Suo Wei said quietly. “Another time.”
They parted at the corner. Wu Suo Wei watched him go until the crowd swallowed him up, then turned the other way, his steps slow, aimless.
He wasn’t angry at himself. Not really. Just tired of how easy it was to ruin a perfectly good night with thoughts of someone who hadn’t even bothered to call.
By the time he reached the next intersection, his phone was already in his hand. Screen blank. No new messages.
He stared at it for a beat too long before slipping it back into his pocket.