Work Text:
Da Qing leaned into Zhao Yunlan's shoulder. "I don't know why he had to stay all night," he complained to Zhao Yunlan, looking around their apartment. "What was he doing?"
Zhao Yunlan huffed a laugh as he swung his bare feet onto the coffee table. "Cleaning, I think." He laid his arm across the top of the sofa, and the Yashou set his head on his shoulder and relaxed into him, kicking off his shoes and curling his legs up. "Also, he made me tea and porridge." He could really get used to someone making him tea and/or porridge after a night of drinking and stomach pain. "Where were you? In fact, where have you been this last week?" Da Qing came to work, but he didn't come home.
Da Qing glanced around, pointedly not answering. "I suppose it does look better."
Zhao Yunlan gestured expansively. "In the kitchen, the sink is now empty, and the refrigerator doesn't smell awful. I thought cats were supposed to be clean."
"Cats are clean personally, not—" Da Qing waved a hand, then resettled against Zhao Yunlan. "You know. Top of the food chain."
"I clean up after you."
"Exactly."
"I wonder?" Zhao Yunlan sat up, sharply struck. "What if Shen Wei knows we live together?" At Da Qing's puzzled look, he pointed. "One bed." He amended it. "One people bed. You have three cat beds. Not that you ever sleep in them." He pointed. "Although that one in the tire seems to be a favorite of yours." He had purchased it as a joke, only to discover that Da Qing, as a cat, loved it.
"Ah." Da Qing poked him in the ribs, and Zhao Yunlan poked him back. "You care what he thinks."
Zhao Yunlan shrugged. "Yes, I care what he thinks. Don't ask me why. I'm still trying to figure him out." To mollify Da Qing, he turned his head for a quick kiss, and Da Qing obliged.
"Of course he knows. He saw us jogging together, remember?" Da Qing shuddered at the memory. He hated exerting himself. "And he lives across the hall. Surely he's seen me come and go." Da Qing sighed theatrically. "Shen Wei is everywhere. Every case we've had lately, he's somehow been involved. You were right to want to keep an eye on him." He leaned in for another kiss, eyes half-closing as Zhao Yunlan stroked the side of his face with a thumb, luxuriating in the attention, catlike. There was silence for a minute or so as they were otherwise occupied, until Da Qing pulled back. He hit his head softly against Zhao Yunlan's shoulder. "Too bad the bug in the scroll hasn't shown us anything."
The SID had stopped carefully reviewing the footage from the hidden camera because it was so dull: Shen Wei grading papers. Shen Wei meeting with students. Shen Wei writing things down. Shen Wei looking tense and preoccupied. Shen Wei eating lunch at his desk. He used a high-quality fountain pen but had a fine brush that he occasionally deployed. He referred to bound books, not the internet. He worked late into the night. His phone calls—on his land line, naturally—were clearly work related.
If this were a film, there would have been a montage of Shen Wei doing research while simultaneously being completely, utterly boring. The most exciting bit would have been Shen Wei suddenly sitting up sharply, pushing his glasses up in that odd way he had, by grasping either side and resettling them, then frantically taking a note. It was excruciatingly dull. And Lin Jing, that lazy asshole, who had been assigned to review the footage for anything untoward, had let him know it.
Zhao Yunlan had been relieved, but unsurprised, to see that Shen Wei was absolutely correct with all his students, male or female. Zhao Yunlan was interested to see that Shen Wei sometimes wore glasses, but sometimes not. Were they just a prop, to make him look more scholarly? And what was the deal with those ridiculous sleeve garters? Everything about him screamed "clueless nerd"—which was why Zhao Yunlan suspected him of shenanigans. It had to be an act.
Two weeks of surveillance had revealed absolutely nothing, though. Zhao Yunlan may have been personally convinced that Shen Wei was the Black-Cloaked Envoy, but two weeks of frame-by-frame analysis of the footage had revealed nothing and Lin Jing began fast-forwarding. It was a bust. Zhao Yunlan had finally called it off, much as he hated to give Lin Jing a win, though they didn't remove the pinhole camera. They'd lost this battle.
"What would it show?" Zhao Yunlan asked. "I think he's on our side."
Da Qing gave him a sharp look. "He's hiding something." At Zhao Yunlan's lack of response, he sad, "You don't disagree."
"No. No, I don't disagree. But hiding something and not being on our side are different things."
Da Qing made a satisfied noise, then moved to slide his arms around Zhao Yunlan's neck. "Enough of Shen Wei," he murmured, leaning his face up. "Unless you can't have enough of him?" Da Qing raised his eyebrows in a mock query. "Shen Wei, Shen Wei, Shen Wei." An open-mouthed kiss, lingering and sweet. "Shen Wei." Another kiss. "Cold Shen Wei. Unless you like cold?"
Yes. He liked cold. But he said, "Warm Da Qing," because Da Qing expected it. "A damn cat." He put his arms around the old, old cat and kicked his legs onto the sofa, pulling Da Qing to one side so they lay face to face, Zhao Yunlan pressed against the sofa's back, Da Qing in his arms, legs intertwined. He smiled at Da Qing, his old friend, and kissed him.
Shen Wei was cold, but Zhao Yunlan didn't like to admit how often he thought of warming him. He longed to move Shen Wei's stoic face to a smile, to touch Shen Wei's hand without his starting back with a painfully quick withdrawal. Shen Wei had an almost feminine habit of looking down, as if in submission, but then flicking his eyes up to make direct contact. That contact felt to Zhao Yunlan like a blow, somehow aggressive. With it came the nagging feeling that he knew Shen Wei, but he couldn't remember from where.
He could only imagine Shen Wei lying next to him, the way Da Qing was now. He could only imagine Shen Wei putting his arms around him, as Da Qing was. He could only imagine the warmth of breath on breath, of delicately touching tongues, of the demanding pressure of a body next to his. He could only imagine Shen Wei touching him with need, as Da Qing touched him, warm and available and unquestioning.
Only someone extraordinary could move Shen Wei, and Zhao Yunlan was clearly not that person. It could never happen. Shen Wei held himself apart. His very gaze was either averted or a challenge. His body withdrew. Zhao Yunlan could not reach Shen Wei, and yet he longed for him. Just thinking about Shen Wei's posture, his glance, his lowered eyes—
Da Qing leaned into Zhao Yunlan's hardness, misinterpreting it. His hand trailed along Zhao Yunlan's hip, then slid along a buttock to draw him closer. Zhao Yunlan cradled Da Qing's head, then brushed his hair back before he leaned down for another kiss.
With his hair back, Da Qing seemed older. His youth was a pretense. The haircut and choice of clothing were designed to frame Da Qing's youthful face, concealing his true identity. His apparent youth disarmed people—useful in the SID. But now, eyes dark with arousal, mouth curved into a smile, it was clear that he was no youth, even if it was not clear that he was really a very old cat indeed.
They had been lovers for years, but Zhao Yunlan still didn't know him.
"Let's go to bed," Zhao Yunlan whispered into Da Qing's neck. Da Qing's necklace tasted metallic against his tongue as he licked at Da Qing's throat, fingers tangled in Da Qing's hair.
There was only one bed in the apartment. It should imply to Shen Wei exactly what was happening now. Let Shen Wei know that Zhao Yunlan slept with men. Let him know.
"Mm," Da Qing said, sliding a hand under Zhao Yunlan's shirt and thrusting his hips up, his hardness matching Zhao Yunlan's. "Let's stay here."
They stayed on the leather sofa as they wrestled at their clothes. Da Qing was inconveniently, if predictably, wearing overalls with a T-shirt underneath, which required gymnastics to remove. Then Da Qing's body, with coarse, dark hair evident only in his armpits and around his sex, was cool and smooth under Zhao Yunlan's hands. Da Qing reached for him with satisfying greediness, the self-absorbed cat in him longing for pleasure. Zhao Yunlan had learned long ago that wanting more from Da Qing was futile. Da Qing wasn't capable of it.
Da Qing pulled off Zhao Yunlan's jacket and shirt. Open-mouthed kisses made them both moan. When they were both hard and panting, Da Qing's mouth descended, first to lick and nip at his nipples, then to kiss his way down Zhao Yunlan's body so that he could tug at Zhao Yunlan's jeans, undoing the button and zip. Zhao Yunlan lifted his hips up so Da Qing could pull his pants down to his knees. When Da Qing took his sex in his mouth, he let himself go. There was nothing else to do.
What if Shen Wei stood on the other side of that door? His eyes would look down, submissive, revealing nothing, then would flick up as he prepared to knock. Then the blow of his gaze would come as he lifted his eyes. Or would he just come in? Come in and see? Would what he saw shock him? Move him?
Desire surged at the thought of Shen Wei, and his penis leapt. Da Qing made a faint, satisfied noise as he attacked it. For a long moment, he couldn't breathe as he imagined Shen Wei watching them. Da Qing's mouth focused at the head as his hand slid around the base, and the intense pleasure made him grind his ass into the couch and push. Shen Wei would watch. Shen Wei would avert his eyes, then look up, taking it all in.
Da Qing knew what to do. Da Qing always knew what to do. The damn cat. His absolute selfishness was the single thing Zhao Yunlan relied on, both personally and professionally. The transactional nature of their exchanges was leavened with true affection, even a kind of love, but it wasn't the kind that would permit their existence as a committed couple.
Shen Wei was nothing like Da Qing. If Shen Wei opened himself to someone, Zhao Yunlan knew, it would mean something more than a mutual exchange of desire and pleasure. Shen Wei's lowered eyes would flick up to look directly into Zhao Yunlan's, and he would feel it as a strike that left him defenseless. If Shen Wei then smiled, if he offered a hand, Zhao Yunlan would be lost.
Da Qing's tongue circled around Zhao Yunlan's glans as he pulled his foreskin down, and in Zhao Yunlan's mind's eye, Shen Wei watched in shock, his scholar's mind now at a loss. In Zhao Yunlan's imagination, Shen Wei steadied himself with a hand against the wall, taking in the tableau: Zhao Yunlan, jeans around his knees, having his cock sucked by a nude, lithe Da Qing—someone who appeared to be barely out of his teens. Shen Wei wouldn't turn away. He would look at the ground, momentarily breathless as he processed the scene. Then his eyes would flick up. And there would be the blow.
Zhao Yunlan moaned at the thought, hips rising, and Da Qing slid his free hand up as his head descended, mouth tight and warm. Their hands touched; their fingers intertwined. Zhao Yunlan said, "Please." He didn't know whom he was talking to. He didn't know what he was pleading for. Shen Wei would watch. Shen Wei would watch—
He felt hard pleasure gather in his stomach and balls. He couldn't hold back. It didn't matter whom he wanted, what he desired, or what he dreamed. It all fell before the sheer physicality of climax. Da Qing sped up, a faint purr or hum evident in the back of his throat, and their hands squeezed together. Da Qing's hand tightened at the base of his cock as his mouth sucked faster.
Zhao Yunlan came, buttocks clenching as his hips rose. His body poured out ecstasy into tight warmth, and he couldn't breathe. The imagined Shen Wei watched as Da Qing sucked and swallowed. The imagined Shen Wei watched as Zhao Yunlan arched his body and came and cried out. The imagined Shen Wei could not look away.
He slowly returned to himself, and Da Qing was there, releasing Zhao Yunlan's penis as he slid up to look Zhao Yunlan in the eye. Zhao Yunlan pulled up their entwined hands, turned them over, and kissed Da Qing's knuckles. "Damn cat," he managed, kissing again, holding Da Qing's eyes. "Come here." He hefted himself up and over, awkward because his pants were still around his knees, so Da Qing was underneath him. With no preliminary, he slid down and pulled Da Qing's hardness into his mouth. It took only a few lashes of his tongue. Da Qing came hard and fast, penis leaping and pulsing. He cried out as Zhao Yunlan sucked, collecting the bitter liquid on his tongue before swallowing. He softened his mouth as Da Qing softened, and Da Qing's fingers twined in his hair as he panted.
Zhao Yunlan could touch the old, old cat, but he could not move him.
He held Da Qing in his mouth until Da Qing let go of his hair, signaling that he was done. "Sweet cat," he whispered as he pushed himself up to lie full length against Da Qing. He kissed the man underneath him, his lover, letting Da Qing taste himself.
Shen Wei was no longer leaning against the wall, taking in the lovers. He and Da Qing were alone.
"Sweet cat," he repeated.
He awkwardly toed off the jeans around his ankles, then kicked them to the floor. He rolled off Da Qing so they once again lay on their sides. Da Qing's arms slid around his neck, and he turned up his face. They lay together on the leather couch, kissing, then drawing back, then kissing again, as their breathing normalized. Da Qing made quiet noises with each kiss, a sort of low purr that emanated from the back of his throat. His pupils were huge. Zhao Yunlan stroked a hand up and down Da Qing's warm, relaxed body, and Da Qing combed Zhao Yunlan's hair with his fingers, Zhao Yunlan exulting in the pleasurable tugging.
"Now can we go to bed?" Zhao Yunlan whispered. He kissed over to Da Qing's ear, then took the earlobe in his mouth and licked. Things were as they always were: Da Qing was gone a week, and when he came back, he wanted Zhao Yunlan. Shen Wei would never want him this way. His longing was futile. "All the toys are in the nightstand. Unless you prefer to sleep in your tire bed tonight."
"I do love the tire bed," Da Qing admitted teasingly. "And your bed is pretty small."
"This sofa is smaller. Plus you are not a large person. We can both fit in the bed." He kissed the damn cat's mouth. "And you are a very sweet cat." He kissed again. "Thank you for coming home," he whispered. "I miss you when you're not here."
"Mmm," Da Qing said, and Zhao Yunlan knew there would be no explanation.
Da Qing rolled back, then awkwardly stood. "Come to bed with me," he said, extending a hand, and Zhao Yunlan took it.