Work Text:
Mo Guan Shan felt conflicted.
It was a normal afternoon, and both he and He Tian were walking through the sun-dappled sidewalk on one of the abandoned streets in Hangzhou. He refused to call it hanging out. He didn’t hang out with anyone, much less this obnoxious shit-stain in his life.
“—an’ so that’s how my ma found the kid in a bloody pulp. She saw my messed up hands an’ whooped my ass after that.” Mo Guan Shan finished gruffly.
He had been in the middle of recounting a particularly embarrassing story from his youth, one that the bastard had wrenched out of him somehow by paying for his lunch. Looking at the unwrapped cheese sandwich in his hand, Mo Guan Shan shrugged and proceeded to take a generous bite out of it. The sun warmed his back pleasantly, and he almost felt light. Not light enough to have a skip in his steps like the bastard beside him. He Tian was positively thrumming with energy, a sharp grin on his face as Mo finished his pathetic childhood story.
“So you broke your neighbour’s kid’s nose when you were six?” He Tian laughed, his face appreciative. “You were a little shit as a child, weren’t you?”
Mo Guan Shan frowned, irritated. “Pretty sure you weren’t any better, bastard.”
“Ouch. How did you get to be right on the mark with that one, red?”
“Pretty easy,” Mo Guan Shan continued, kicking on odd soda can on his way. It bounced off a pole and landed in a nearby waste bin. He pretended not to notice He Tian’s eyebrows rise at that.
“There’s no way someone as fucked up as you exists without havin’ been through some screwed up shit as a kid.”
“Careful red,” He Tian murmured, an odd light in his eyes as he rubbed the nape of his neck. This close, Mo could almost smell the sweat on him. “Don’t be too right on the nose with your conclusions.”
Mo felt distracted by the pale stretch of skin on the boy’s neck. It seemed…oddly lickable. He blinked slowly, coming back to reality and staring at his sandwich, lips parting in annoyance. What the hell? He should really get more sleep instead of wasting his youth away by working at that convenience store down town. Lack of sleep did disturbing things, like walking with He Tian on this familiar, well-worn sidewalk after school.
“Will you stop callin’ me by that dumbass name already?” he grumbled, pushing his hands into his pockets. Autumn was around the corner, and it was a respite from the merciless heat. He Tian made a non committal noise in the back of his throat. There was not a soul in sight – there was a festival in the city park, and everyone had headed there. His mom had invited him, but he had declined the invitation in the hopes of enjoying a pleasant afternoon of peaceful, blessed silence.
That was until the bastard had tugged him to this place after school. He didn’t even have the chance to get out of his uniform. He Tian was still sweaty from his football practice after lunch, school bag slung casually over one shoulder.
“No, I like calling you red.” He said, voice nonplussed. “Why, do you take offense to it, red?”
Mo Guan Shan swore he could feel a vein in his forehead pulse. He was probably going to die with all the sudden heart palpitations the bastard shamelessly gave him on a daily basis. It was either that or an aneurysm. His lips curled in a sneer. Yes, nothing like falling stone cold dead from the throbbing headache induced by your mortal enemy. Except—
Mo Guan Shan took a quick peek out of the corner of his eyes. The bastard seemed oddly ponderous, a distant look on his face. He had had been having those looks for a while now, and while Mo Guan Shan wasn’t really concerned one whit, it annoyed him for some godforsaken reason. Didn’t the foxy bastard always force Mo Guan Shan into hyperawareness like a spooked rabbit around him? Pissed off, he hobbled closer to He Tian and screwed the heel of his shoes onto bastard’s foot.
He Tian lost his balance and slammed face first into a telephone pole. Mo Guan Shan howled, tears coming out of his mirthful eyes at the comically startled look on the boy’s face before he landed hard on his rump. He made a false show of wiping the manly tears from his eyes, hovering over He Tian. The bastard covered his face, clearly in pain.
Mo Guan Shan felt satisfied. It was nice to wipe that confident little smirk off that stupid face every once in a while.
“Will ya look at that,” Mo Guan Shan drawled, leaning over He Tian’s crouched, still figure. The bastard was still clutching his bloody nose, eyes closed. “Oblivious bastards get what they deserve at the end of the day.”
Priceless. He Tian’s shock was going to be carved into his mind for the rest of the week, giving him immense gratification. His sullen smile brightened at that. However, after a few moments of terse silence, when He Tian kept covering nose with both hands, that satisfied smirk gave way to wariness.
“Bastard?”
The moron didn’t get a concussion or anything, did he? Guilt swarming in his stomach like a bunch of bees, Mo desperately told himself that the bastard deserved this. He Tian had even pulled the same shit on him multiple times, damn it! It was no big deal. And yet, when the bastard sat there on the dusty pavement, his books having fallen out and strewn all over the cobblestones, Mo Guan Shan felt something achingly close to concern. He clamped it down instantaneously, placing a firm hand on He Tian’s shoulder, intent gaze scanning for signs of harm.
“Hey,” he said gruffly, crouching before He Tian, “if you hit your head or somethin’, lemme see—”
And He Tian leaped up, flipping him over until Mo Guan Shan’s back met the ground with a smack. The afternoon light cast a halo around the bastard’s pitch black hair, and black, beady eyes gazed down at him in satisfaction, a line of mauve blood tricking down a shapely nose. Both of He Tian’s knees caged his hips, and Mo shifted, uncomfortable as He Tian’s ass inadvertently brushed against his crotch.
"Bastard." Mo Guan Shan growled, guttural voice low as he attempted to sit up, balancing his torso on his elbows. Bucking his hips in a desperate effort to throw the bastard off of him, Mo Guan Shan shouted a colorful litany of curses when his crotch ground up against the curve of He Tian’s ass yet again. The last straw was when that insufferable bastard leaned in, his shapely nose brushing against his.
“You are smart, red,” He Tian hummed, a devilish spark in his eyes. “Not smart enough, unfortunately.”
“Yeah,” Mo Guan Shan rasped, silently seething over ever having felt a modicum of concern for this wretched creature, “you are a fuckin’ smartass. Move over so I can fuck you up.”
He Tian made a show of scratching his chin, briefly considering the idea. Mo Guan Shan glowered.
“Hmm,” He Tian continued, “tempting as it is to have you beat me up, red, I think I’ll go with a no.”
“I SWEAR TO GOD I’LL FUCK YOU UP!”
“Hahaha. You never do.”
“SHUT UP!”