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“Fuck off,” Xue Yang snarls up at the cat scratching up the top of his cupboard. “Go get your own damn food, bitch, I know you can hunt.”
The cat yowls at him like the yao-begotten demon she is, until the pain already throbbing in his skull is almost drowning out his vision, and Xue Yang jerks to his feet with a curse and snatches her up.
“Out!” He snaps, pushing up the rickety window and throwing her onto the fire escape. “And don’t come back till dawn, I don’t want to deal with you, understand?”
She stumbles when she lands, never mind that she’s a feline, and Xue Yang winces before he can stop himself. He thins his lips and leans over to get a look at the missing stump of half her front leg- amputated two weeks ago when she got into a bad fight with a stray dog.
He hesitantly reaches out to check for damage and the cat hisses at him and claws his hand to blood. Xue Yang shouts and pulls it back.
"Fine!" He yells at her, grabbing the nearest dead plant and uprooting it so he can throw it at her. She yelps and runs away. "I hope you get run over this time for good, you stupid creature!"
Xue Yang slams the window shut with all his strength- too much strength as it happens, because now he has glass shards and wooden beams littered over his second-hand mattress. He clenches his fists and sucks in a sharp breath to calm himself down before everyone in the building has to go to the hospital and he has to jump ship again.
He likes this place, he reminds himself, as he shakes the blanket to get rid of all the glass and tears off the broken beams to drop on top of the pile of shards so he doesn't step on them later. He likes this place, with its working plumbing and it's not-shitty placement and the sunsets he can see from his window- and he really doesn't want to have to go through another round of scouting for a place that isn't covered under Meng Yao's intensive network.
"I like this place," He repeats through gritted teeth as one of the glass pieces goes through his finger, and he picks it out and drops it down with the others and tries to get his shadows back into control.
Of course, that's when the banging on his door and the shrill calls of his name start up.
Xue Yang vividly imagines strangling the woman with her own guts to calm himself down, and takes a nice long drink of soda from the fridge before slowly walking over and opening the door.
"Yes?" He drawls, leaning against the doorframe, shooting his best grin up at his neighbour, the one he knows she hates.
The lady glares at him. "When I told you to get a cat, I didn't mean you treat her like absolute shit. If you don't take better care of her, I'm going to have to fucking take her away from you, Xue Yang, and I know that you don't want that to happen.”
"She's from the streets," He snaps, bristling. He hates that she somehow knows his real name, that it possibly slipped out during that first night where he got so drunk she had to help him to his apartment, and has made an effort not to learn hers in return. "She'll manage on her own."
His neighbour sighs, but doesn't press. It makes Xue Yang even more jittery, because he likes the idea of somehow telling her his whole tragic backstory while he'd been blacked out even less, and he lets a shadow snap out to break the moldy table kept for 'decoration' in the hallway and snaps, "Is there a reason you needed me, bitch? Or did you just break down my door to yell at me again so you can jerk off to it later?"
The woman's eye twitches and she visibly takes a long calming breath. "Can you help me get these boxes down?"
Xue Yang blinks in surprise, raising an eyebrow as he looks at her biceps which are probably bigger than his thighs.
Neighbour lady laughs a bit, and shrugs. "I can carry the boxes, it's just that there's too many of them. Help?"
Xue Yang sneers at her, but she's already turned around and walking into her flat- apparently deciding that Xue Yang is going to help her, no matter his feelings on the matter. He isn't, but her flat is warmer than his so he shoves his hands in his pockets and wanders inside anyway.
"You're leaving?" He says before he can stop himself, staring at the flat stripped bare and packed into boxes.
"I told you last week, A-Yang," She says tiredly. He's already kicking himself for the pathetic disappointment-shock in his voice, even before his neighbour turns to look at him. "My old friends need my help with something, I'm moving out for six months."
"Whatever, I don't care," Xue Yang mutters, whipping out his shadow tendrils and curling them around the nearest boxes. The shadows drag the boxes to the corners of the room and then sink into the floor, reappearing in the shadowed hallway of the building lobby.
"Be careful, Xue Yang," Neighbour lady says, frowning. “You know you'll get into big trouble if someone sees your ability.”
“I can take care of myself,” Xue Yang snaps. “Your boxes are downstairs. I have to go run errands, so bye. It was shit knowing you or whatever. Maybe now I’ll finally get peace without you fucking screeching at me all the damn time.”
“Xue Yang!” He hears from behind him as he walks out the door, but he doesn’t slow down, barrelling down the steps and storming out of the building. He scowls at the ground and kicks a bottle cap as he walks towards the nearby grocery store.
Might as well get something done while he’s out here.
“Stupid,” He hisses at himself, kicking the bottle cap too hard and sending it into the nearby gutter. He wasn’t supposed to get attached to anyone, much less his stupid neighbour. He should know better than to feel sad that she was leaving, no matter how closely she’d stuck by him when the landlord gave him trouble and no matter how many cookies she baked him and no matter that she might know his entire life story somehow and still have chosen to spend time with him. The world was just fuck-all like that- gave you some good stuff and then yanked it out from under your feet when you were most comfortable.
He shouldn’t have gotten attached.
Of course, the fact that he’s had time enough to get attached means he’s possibly stayed put in one place for too long. He contemplates this as he picks out cabbage from the rack from the supermarket and dumps them into his basket, trying to tell if it’s a valid concern or if he’s being paranoid again and if he should buy strawberry jam or marmalade.
It doesn't matter, he decides in the end. He's tired- if the Jins catch up, they catch up. It's not like he expected to live any longer past twenty five anyway. And he doesn’t want either, he’ll just eat bread with butter for a few days, he’ll survive.
He grabs cat food from the last aisle as he goes.
He drags his feet on the way home, delaying as long as he can. He succeeds- his neighbour is gone by the time he reaches home, no traces of her left- and Xue Yang grits his teeth and slams the door behind him as walks back into his own apartment and refuses to feel anything about it.
He cracks open the cat food and leaves it on the windowsill before turning up the loudest music he has to get enough of an adrenaline rush to put the groceries in. And of course, because every day is ‘bother Xue Yang day’, someone bangs on the door just as he’s putting the last milk carton in and he rolls his eyes.
He picks up his knife and strolls to the door lazily, mumble-singing the lyrics of the song as he goes, and sighs as he wrenches the door open. “Yes?”
It’s the guy who lives downstairs this time- the asshole one. He glares at Xue Yang. “Turn that music down, I can’t hear myself think.”
“That’s something that’s best for the community, really,” Xue Yang shrugs. “No one needs you to think.”
“Oh, you fucking-” The man goes red with anger and Xue Yang smirks at him. “I’ll let it pass today, but from tomorrow there’s going to be none of your shitty loud music, understand?”
“Oh?” Xue Yang raises his eyebrow, twirling the knife out of view, “Do tell?”
The man narrows his eyes at him. “We’re getting new neighbours tomorrow, creep. You managed to keep that good-looking bitch here with your dick or something for a few months somehow, but I don’t want you running these folk out like you did with all the others, understand? No idea why the crazy fuckers chose here to stay- but they’re well off and polite, so play nice. If we’re lucky, they’ll stay here long enough for the landlord to consider throwing out filth like you so more gentry can come in.”
“If I get thrown out, you’ll be right there with me on your ass in the street,” Xue Yang drawls, scratching the wallpaper out with the force of his nails in anger, even as he keeps a smile on his face. “And, by the way, that ‘good looking bitch’ who just left? She was the only reason you didn’t have a fork embedded in your balls on multiple occasions.” He brandishes the knife and smiles and the man, who pales and takes a step back. “She’s gone now. Step carefully.”
The man snarls angrily, but seems to have enough of a brain to retreat, storming down the hall and spitting insults as he goes.
Xue Yang snorts and throws the butter knife to the corner of the room, kicking the door shut with his foot. He stretches out, joints cracking satisfactorily, and grabs his toast to eat on his bed.
He collapses onto the bed and stares out the French window right next to it, crunching his toast. Sure, it’s a breach of privacy because you can’t install curtains and the people in the building close by could watch you at night if they so much as looked in his vague direction (which is why he managed to get it so fucking cheap), but goddamn if the view you got of the sunset wasn’t fucking worth it.
The sun lights the sky pink and orange and turquoise as it sets, nestled between two hills and open sky. Xue Yang watches the colors change and the clouds twist as he finishes dinner, tossing the plate to the side and leaning against the soft pillows he splurged on.
Despite all the shit with the neighbours, today was marginally less of a bad day than usual. Maybe it was the walking- he doesn’t think he’s gotten out of the house in a while. He should go out for an early morning run tomorrow perhaps, get some exercise in.
Xue Yang wonders if the cat will come back.
He sighs as night finally sets in, and relaxes his hold on his ability, letting the shadows creep up around the apartment, up the window, shielding him from outside view and covering him in darkness.
New neighbours, huh? He hopes they’re hot.
They’re both drop dead fucking gorgeous. What the fuck.
“What the fuck?” Xue Yang mutters out loud as he stands in the doorway and watches the slighter looking man give his companion a blinding, beautiful grin as he goes down to get the next box.
The aforementioned companion coming up the stairs with heavy-looking boxes on his shoulders is just as beautiful- features seemingly carved of marble and ivory, a resting bitchface impressive enough that it makes you want to start spilling your secrets if you look into his eyes too long.
Speaking of eyes- Xue Yang tilts his head as the mysterious hottie shifts slightly and reveals his right eye- a shock of pure white, no pupil at all. It doesn’t bode well- it looks like the effect of cursework; whether he was actively pursuing someone who did it, or was the casualty of a nearby fight- either way it means cultivators too close by for him to be comfortable. And normally that meant it was time for him to go or drive them away, but-
Xue Yang sucks on his lollipop louder, raking his eyes over the other appreciably. Damn, those thighs are thick. Xue Yang wants them around his neck.
The man straightens up and turns to look at where he’s blatantly staring at him. Xue Yang tilts his head and smirks unapologetically, raising an eyebrow and winking when the man slowly looks him over.
The man goes red. Fuck yes.
“I’m Song Lan,” He offers after a hesitant pause. “You are?”
“Xue Chengmei,” Xue Yang says with a bright grin, letting his body go relaxed against the doorway. He winks. “But if you want a good time, you can call me Xue Yang.”
He can feel his grin leaning into predatory as the other's eyes widen in shock. He's never been one to care about stupid things like courtesy names, but the fact that some people still do almost always works in his favour, a quick hook into trust.
And then that's where it all goes to shit, because the door down the hallway slams open and the asshole from earlier comes down towards them.
“Good evening, sir,” He says, with all the faux-politeness of a man who wouldn’t hesitate to run over a homeless person with his expensive car. “Welcome to our complex! I trust you have settled in well?”
“We're still bringing up our things,” Song Lan says, with the faintest of creases between his eyebrows. Xue Yang likes him a bit more. "Should be done by the end of the day."
"Ah," The man says, then awkwardly shifts about when Song Lan doesn't say anything more to continue the conversation. Xue Yang muffles a chuckle.
As usual, the jerk singles him out as a target immediately. "Oh, you," He sneers. "Don't laze around out here, you delinquent, go get a job! Contribute to society, instead of being a worthless piece of trash, for fuck's sake."
Xue Yang narrows his eyes, good mood falling away. "Mind your own business, dickhead."
He scoffs. "It is my business when you bring down the reputation of the society by wearing those rags."
Xue Yang flicks out a knife from his sleeve and lets it dangle from his fingers for a few moments, watching the neighbour gulp visibly. He smirks violently and points the end of it at him.
"You know, I've had a very shitty week," He drawls, making a show of looking at the edge of the knife. "Which means I have extremely limited patience for this situation and all your bullshit. Understand?"
The man sneers at him, looking over to Song Lan for help. Xue Yang thrills in pleasure as Song Lan stares back impassively, making the man wilt and scamper off with his tail between his legs.
He goes to say something as they're left alone once more, but the other beats him to it.
"He may have a point, though. Should you be wearing… that?" Song Lan says, a faintly disdainful look on his face as he looks over Xue Yang's outfit.
Xue Yang scowls, tensing back upright and throwing his lollipop stick to the side. Never mind. Criticising his clothes is always an immediate turn off.
Ugh, and it was going so well, too.
"Oh, go fuck yourself. I'll wear whatever the hell I want, thank you very much."
He turns and slams the door shut loudly, earning himself a judgmental look from the cat sitting on the kitchen counter.
"Fuck off," Xue Yang mutters.
The clothing comment grates at him for the rest of the week- making him scowl every time he sees Song Lan's chiseled fucking face when he goes out to run in his skin tight bodysuit and high ponytail and plum-tinged lipbalm in the early mornings, right when Xue Yang is coming home from his freelance work.
He makes heavy fucking eye contact with Xue Yang too- granted, that possibly may be because of all the blood and injuries- but it's all mismatched judgmental gazes and slow, long disdainful glances down his body while they wait for the lift and silent weary nods of acknowledgement when they meet and part.
He has got to get some good revenge on him, to settle it once and for all, so he can stop being distracted by Song Lan's disdain for him. If he gives Song Lan a real reason to hate Xue Yang, then he can shove him off into the corner of his mind where all the other shitty residents of the world go, rather than have the fashion judgement scrape at his nerves until he snaps and murders him, which is sure to catch the Jin's attention. Plus, he's not being able to focus on shit otherwise, and that- that's dangerous.
I mean, I could fuck his roommate, right? Xue Yang thinks dazedly a few days later, Xiao Xingchen chattering at him happily and picking up an overripe apple with one hand. Xue Yang replaces it with a better one when he looks the other direction. That seems like something that would piss him off.
And it's not exactly a hard thing to do because again, just like his roommate, Xiao Xingchen is fucking hot.
Said hot person bumps into a young lady as he's staring at the different mayonnaise brands in wonder, and sends them and both their shopping baskets flying to the floor.
Xue Yang cackles and Xingchen grimaces amusedly at him before helping the other woman- girl, really- to her feet, apologizing profusely.
"Ah, my bad," He says in a voice that could placate storms, "I can't see out of my left eye, I didn't see you there in time."
"Ah, that's fine!" The girl says cheerily, helping him put their stuff back in their carts. "No worries, no worries, have a nice day!"
Xue Yang blinks hard against the smile Xingchen sends her way and rolls his eyes as he grabs the girl hard by the hand as she moves to walk past.
"I saw that," He tells her lowly, ignoring her jerk of fright. "Sneaky, aren't you?"
The pickpocket scowls at him. "What's it to you? Mind your own business."
"Oh, I will- he’s a rich man, he can afford it. Take the wallet if you want, I don't care, but at least give me the credit card. I didn't spend all this time helping him out with fruits for nothing."
The girl practically throws the cards in his face and scampers out of the store before she's caught. Xue Yang huffs in amusement and walks up to the counter, where Xingchen is patting his pockets with a frown. An adorable frown, truly.
“You dropped your wallet,” He says, holding the cards out, “Someone took the money, but the cards were still there nearby.”
"Oh!" Xue Yang cringes against the overpoweringly bright smile turned at him, even as the cashier behind him frowns like they want to accuse Xue Yang of taking the money but can’t possibly in the face of the happiness and guile of Xingchen between them. Xue Yang stares at them until they back down and look away, and then turns to Xingchen again, who is still talking at him. “-thank you so much! Although I prefer the thief would have left the wallet instead- it was a gift from Song Lan.”
“I’ll get you a new one,” Xue Yang offers with a genuine grin, immediately zeroing in on the opportunity there. “Are you free this evening?”
“Ah, yes!” Xingchen says, struggling with the fruits as they wobble precariously close at the top of his overfilled fabric bag, too small for the grocery store. Xue Yang snaps them all up as they lose the fight with gravity, his shadows subtly depositing the ones he can’t catch neatly in a plastic bag nearby. He dumps the rest into the bag and slings it onto Xingchen’s hand before he can do more than turn towards them in dismay, stealing an apple for himself. “Oh, thank- thank you!”
“Don’t mention it,” Xue Yang says with a wink. “Six pm at the corner of the road?” Xingchen nods. “It’s a date then.”
He walks away before Xingchen can respond, turning back only when he’s at the door. Xingchen and the cashier are both staring at him, the latter looking vaguely impressed and the former looking like he’d been hit by a tornado. Both the usual reactions to meeting Xue Yang, really.
He whistles all the way home, throwing his best sneer at Song Lan as they pass each other on the staircase, and practically dancing through the house as he throws the new groceries into place. He throws himself into his twirling chair when he’s done, grabs the cracked ipad from the bookshelf and cracks open his unfinished commissions and turns up his music so loud he doesn't have to hear the banging on his door to complain.
“I’m sorry if I gave you the wrong impression earlier," Xiao Xingchen says earnestly when they meet at the corner of the road that evening. “I don't move this fast in relationships.”
Xue Yang raises an eyebrow, surprised a bit at the assertiveness of the second half of the sentence. More than a naïve pushover then, huh? Interesting.
What’s also interesting is that he doesn’t mention he’s with anyone else.
“No worries,” Xue Yang says easily, shrugging as he throws the wrapper of his lollipop aside and sticks it in his mouth. “I can take things slow.”
It’s a lie, and Xingchen’s lips twitch like he knows it. But he doesn’t say anything, just crouches down to pick up the wrapper and throw it into the rubbish bin nearby.
Xue Yang rolls his eyes. Of course.
“So what’s your style?” He says as they set off into the flea market, empty besides the few tourists scattered around. Normally he thrives in crowds himself, hidden and unnoticed, but he doesn't want to take any chances because he’s pretty sure whatever happened to their eyes is a recent development.
Song Lan punching him in the face when he walked up on his right a tad too silently was a big indication of that.
(Xue Yang had punched back, obviously. They’d gotten into a fistfight right there on the dirty floor in front of the elevator, him leaving with a broken nose and the other stomping up the steps with a dislocated jaw and cracked ribs.
It’d had the advantage of dispelling the last of his superficial attraction to the other; hard to thirst over someone’s biceps when you had a fresh memory of them choking you out, even if he had a permanent mark of your teeth in his body. Disadvantages were the injuries, and more importantly, the possible dent in his plan to seduce Xingchen to annoy Song Lan.
Xiao Xingchen never said anything, though.)
“I like white,” Xingchen says cheerfully, dressed head to toe in white. “White, sharp things, plants, the sunrise and men.”
Xue Yang chokes on his lollipop, coughing wildly as Xingchen laughs gleefully at his reaction behind him, apparently getting the exact reaction he wanted.
Fucking sadist.
“Noted,” He wheezes out finally, “Fuck, Xingchen, warn a dude.”
“No,” Xingchen says with a sweet smile, so bluntly that Xue Yang’s mouth drops a bit at his absolute confidence. “Come on, let’s go! I want to check out the tapestry stall at the end of the market too, a friend recommended it.”
He walks off, head turning side to side like a small excited bird to get a full view of the market, white lapels dragging along the dirty ground.
Against his better judgement, Xue Yang feels a sharp pang of interest stab through him, shadows sitting up at attention and curling around his wrists. Something predatory flickers to life in his chest, the first emotion in a long, long time that’s not dulled by his usual apathy and boredom.
He tilts his head at Xingchen’s retreating back and exhales a small incredulous laugh. “Sharp things, huh?” He muses, the admission hidden between soft preferences, like a dagger wrapped in velvet. “Interesting.”
He follows.
“What the fuck do you want?” Xue Yang snaps up at the unfairly tall asshole in front of him. He’d just gone to sleep dammit, in bed at night for the first time in literal fucking years, before Song Lan had apparently decided his door was a perfect drumset for a rock and roll concert. “It’s two in the morning, you fucking heathen.”
Song Lan pauses to give Xue Yang his most disdainful look yet, all bitter glare and furrowed eyebrows, before scowling. “You have plants. Half-dead plants, right?”
Xue Yang snarls, hand going to his knife in alarm. “How did you know?”
“I saw them on your windowsill when I came back from jogging,” Song Lan says quickly, frowning slightly like he can sense danger but doesn’t know from where. “Get them quick, we need them.”
“Wha- bitch, I don’t have to do fucking shit,” Xue Yang snaps, wondering if he should just throw the knife at this infuriating man anyway. “What the fuck makes you think-”
“Xiao Xingchen,” Song Lan says, a hint of real desperation behind it, and Xue Yang shuts up. “He’s- he’s having a panic attack. He needs plants.”
“Shit,” Xue Yang straightens up, evaluates. He doesn’t care for having people as insufferably upstanding as them in his debt because it never ends well, and he’s exhausted and wants nothing more than to collapse back into bed, but- It’s Xingchen. “Fuck, fine.”
He dashes in and scoops up all the pots he has, not questioning it. Curses are varied and fucking weird, just like abilities, and unfortunately Song Lan knows Xingchen better than he does. One of the ceramic pots tilts and then falls down to the floor- and he scoops it up with a stray shadow and places it on the top of the pile in his hands.
Song Lan grabs his arm as he jogs across the short passageway. "The panic is making the curse on us act up," He says shortly, "It's not pretty."
Xue Yang rolls his eyes, although he'd not had actual confirmation about a curse till that very second. Makes sense why they would be here, though, in this rundown building completely opposite to what people like them would usually go for. "I'm sure I've seen worse."
He slams open the ajar door and stops in place, because holy fucking shitballs.
The whole room is covered in frost, black and white and freezing- icicles hanging from the ceiling, sharp shards clustered around the room, snow flying around them in a sharp breeze that shouldn't be there, hissing with resentment.
And Xiao Xingchen is in the middle of the room, curled in on himself and glowing white, his mouth open in a silent scream that curls the skin, wind whipping around him furiously.
Xue Yang exhales sharply, one foot edging back as panicked instincts insist he makes a run for it, but he collides into the solid mass of Song Lan behind him and snaps back into reality.
"Xingchen!" He shouts, and flinches back when Xingchen turns towards him- because there's fucking plants growing out of one of his eyes.
He stares at a weakly gasping Xingchen in horror, unable to move. Song Lan swears behind him and grabs the plant pots out of his hands, sending them all flying to the floor. Xiao Xingchen scrambles towards them like a wild creature, weak and pathetic, making everything in Xue Yang recoil in disgust at the wrongness of it- him, fair enough; Song Lan, sure; but Xingchen? Elegant, refined, naive Xingchen who actually trusts him even though their first encounter was Xue Yang pulling a knife on him after a job gone wrong?
He exhales and grabs the nearest pot. “Xingchen!” He calls out. An icicle cluster materializes out of nowhere, close to his eyes. He sidesteps, meeting the one eye staring at him, Xingchen’s body so still it looks like a corpse frozen into the ice around him, barring the red running down his cheeks and the flowers curling out of his eye socket.
He shakes his head and vividly forces himself to imagine worse things. “Catch!” He calls out, and the pot goes flying into Xingchen’s arms, spilling brown dirt across the floor.
Xingchen looks down at it and something sparks in his one visible eye. He gasps and waves a hand over it, and something tugs at Xue Yang’s gut as pure power spills from his hand. The plants curling out of his eye retreat suddenly, leaving the one pure white pupil perfectly intact like nothing had happened, and matching plants spurt out of the pot in his hand.
“Damn,” Xue Yang breathes, kicking the other pots closer for Xingchen to use as the greenery inches closer to the ceiling. Xingchen is glowing, warmer than before, as he grows life- actual real fucking life- from his bare fucking hands. He looks ethereal, unnatural, like an actual fucking god from the heavens as a small smile appears on his face, watching the plants grow from the barren soil.
The ice is still there, though.
“Uh, Xingchen,” He breaks the silence since Song Lan doesn’t seem to be making any moves to. “That- That’s really, really fucking hot of you, to be completely honest, but the uh- the room’s still kinda a freezer right now. Probably should get that cleaned up.”
Xingchen blinks at him with mismatched eyes, blood running down over his lips and neck, and Xue Yang’s heart skips a beat. They stare at each other, electric, before Xingchen tears his gaze away to look around them and promptly comes back to himself.
“Zichen,” He says desperately, looking over Xue Yang’s shoulder at Song Lan, whom he’d honestly forgotten was still there. “Zichen.”
“I’m fine,” Song Lan growls, voice rough, and Xue Yang turns around to look at him. He’s- grown, taller and buffer than normal, with long claws that curve from his fingernails to his thighs, patches of fur visible on his neck black spilling from his fanged mouth and one eye pitch black and the other with needle sharp talons poking out of it.
“What the fuck?” Xue Yang says, and promptly pokes him in the fuzzy bits to see what they feel like.
Soft, for the record. And also Song Lan nearly bites his hand off.
Xue Yang leaps backward, but Song Lan pounces with him, inhumanly fast. Xue Yang twists out of reach and claws sink into the place he was a second ago. He throws both the knives he has on him, making him roar in pain, slowing Song Lan down enough for him to run across the room to Xingchen.
“Move!” He shouts. Xingchen doesn’t, still weak and reaching for whatever the fuck used to be Song Lan, and Xue Yang bodily pulls him up and drags him. He dodges the icicles around the room, the ice thickening under their feet as they stumble, Song Lan roaring with the voice of a hundred screams behind them.
They make it to the door and he slams it shut to buy them time, pulling Xingchen along the best he can to his open door. He just needs an unlit room and five seconds, or paper, or even his fucking sword, and he can fight back with a chance of survival.
The door splinters behind them and Song Lan roars again. Xue Yang swears as they make it to his flat- but Xingchen stumbles and Xue Yang trips on his robes and falls with him and Song Lan advances fast, too fast for them to do anything, and-
And Xiao Xingchen throws his cat straight onto Song Lan’s face.
"What," Xue Yang says blankly as Song Lan stops in his tracks, claws outstretched in the air, cat on his head. Xiao Xingchen pants in the sudden silence of the hallway. The cat yowls in indignation at her mistreatment, because she is a cat.
The ice melts.
"What the fuck," Xue Yang says as Song Lan turns back into his normal human state. He sighs shakily and turns to shush the mewling cat on his shoulder and scratches her chin, ignoring the two of them on the floor.
Xue Yang snatches her out of Song Lan's grasp and holds her to his chest. "Don't you fucking touch my cat, motherfucker. Now what the fuck is going on, you freaks, explain."
"Look who's talking," Song Lan mutters under his breath and Xue Yang pulls together every last inch of resolve he has to not cut out his tongue in front of Xingchen.
"We're cursed," Xiao Xingchen whispers and they both stop glaring at each other to look at him. "We were on a night hunt when we stumbled upon an array stealing the abilities from a sacrificed couple, and accidentally gained it instead."
Xingchen coughs and looks to Song Lan to continue. He grimaces and looks over at Xue Yang, who glowers back at him. He was nearly killed over this, he deserves a fucking explanation.
Song Lan sighs like he can hear him. "We can't deal well with the dual abilities. They both fight for dominance and we can't control them sometimes. When we panic."
"So that's why you're both in this dump," Xue Yang muses, petting the cat. "The landlord is going to beat your asses for the damage, by the way."
"We'll fix it up," Song Lan says, face blank, and reaches out to pet Xue Yang's cat again. Xue Yang pulls her away, glaring. He may not care about her that much, but she's still his cat, and he'll break his own soul into pieces before letting Song Lan touch her again.
"Xue Yang," Xiao Xingchen pleads softly, and Xue Yang grimaces and looks at him unwillingly. Xingchen begs silently, and suddenly years of hard-made self-preservation instincts slip out of his fingers and he holds the cat out reluctantly.
Song Lan glares at him, because he's an asshole, but pets the cat anyway.
"He needs fauna and I need flora," Xingchen explains, taking Xue Yang's hand and getting to his feet. "That's what our abilities are- the best way to stop the destruction is to just go along with it in the most peaceful way."
Life abilities. Of course they both have fucking life abilities, the rarest ones out there, only less illegal to have than Xue Yang's deathly shadowplay.
Just goes to show you don't belong there, something hisses spitefully at him and he scowls and tells it to shut up.
"That's fucked up," He says, even though what he wants to say is That's genius. How did someone manage to steal abilities? What a fascinating idea. "You're not using my cat as your personal bomb handler, by the way. She's my cat. "
Song Lan hums and drops a kiss on the cat's head, walking away before Xue Yang can kick him in the balls for it. He goes for his knife, except Xingchen places a hand on his face suddenly, soft and cool and Xue Yang freezes.
"Thank you," Xingchen says sweetly, staring at Xue Yang with such naked adoration and pride that he thinks might need a fainting couch in the next few moments. "I'm- truly so sorry about all of this. Are you alright?"
"I have my ability too, you know. I've seen worse shit." Not really, but they don't need to know that. "Do you need help getting the curse off?"
"No," Xingchen shakes his head. "We can't ask you to risk yourself like that- we're not exactly sure what the curse is capable of. But-" He rubs a cold thumb over Xue Yang's cheek, sending a jolt through him and then pulls him closer and plants a kiss on his cheek. "Thank you for offering. And not calling the authorities."
"Yeah, no problem," Xue Yang says on autopilot, fireworks going off in his brain. "Good night."
Xingchen smiles even wider, blood staining half his face and his pristine white shirt and hands Xue Yang back his knife. "Good night."
He's in trouble.
"Leave my fucking cat ALONE!"
"She's hungry. You're not feeding her enough."
"She's hungry because I just fucking came home. I have her tuna right here."
"That's not healthy for her."
"I know, dipshit, but some of us have to ration between feeding the cat and feeding ourselves."
"Then let me feed her!"
"No!"
"Oh, for the love of- Why the fuck not?"
"Because she's my cat. Get your ugly hands off her."
"Yet she's actively searching me out everyday."
"Fuck off, she's mine. I grabbed her out of that stinky fucking river, I paid for her vet bills, I take care of her the best I can and you can't have her."
"Xue Chengmei-"
"Fuck off."
"I hate him so much," Xue Yang seethes, grabbing the expensive cat food and throwing it in his cart. "I'm going to crack his spine in half and shove it up his ass one day."
Xiao Xingchen giggles behind him and topples two bottles of mayonnaise into his basket. He always laughs at their squabbling like an old lady watching children argue, rather than two powerful cultivators ready to violently murder each other at the drop of a coin. "What happened with Zichen now?"
"He's stealing my cat!" Xue Yang shouts, waving around a zucchini. "He thinks he's so slick, but I know he's giving her food on the sly. Trying to gain her loyalty through bribery."
"Mhm," Xingchen says, picking up an apple and squinting at it. Xue Yang snatches it out of his hands and replaces it with a ripe one without looking.
"And he pretends that he isn't! He lies to my face about it too, like I can't fucking see that her collar has been replaced and her coat has been brushed!" He rages. "I don't know how the fuck you live with his stupid blank face all the time, he- hey, hands off!"
The pickpocket shrinks back and looks at him in betrayal, which just cements the fact in further that he might be slightly in love with Xingchen.
"Get other people to hit," He tells her shortly anyway. "This one's mine."
She huffs and makes to walk away, but Xingchen grabs her arm, forehead creased in distress.
"What? No, you must have mixed her up with someone else, Xue Yang. This is A-Qing! She's helping me out with my braille."
Xue Yang raises an eyebrow and scoffs. "She's a pickpocket."
"Are you?" Xingchen asks her, and A-Qing flashes a smile at him and a smug look at Xue Yang.
"No, of course not." She says and Xingchen flashes a reproachful glance at him. Xue Yang rolls his eyes. "She's dressed like one."
"I told you! A-Qing, you have to dress better, otherwise you're going to get into trouble! You know how the police are around these parts."
A-Qing gets an incredulous look on her face. "Yeah, I- I know, but I kinda need, uh. Money for that, daozhang."
"Oh, right! Apologies," Xingchen says, and fishes out a few notes to place in her hand. "Come to me if you need more, alright? Where do you live, do you think-"
A-Qing shoots him a look of absolute horror and Xue Yang shrugs in sympathy, mouthing 'Yeah, he's like that.' Xingchen had bought him a scarf the other day too, because he 'looked cold'. He was fucking weird.
She exhales and looks back down at the bills in her palm, Xingchen going on and on above her head. She sniffs suddenly, and throws her arms around him, muttering a quick thanks before running off.
"Oh," Xingchen says, surprised. "See you tomorrow!"
Xue Yang shakes his head. "Come on, daozhang," He says fondly. "Let's go home."
Xingchen beams at him, before suddenly saying, "Oh! Wait, you like sweet things, right? Oh, Song Lan tried these candies the other day, and they were- horrendously sweet, truly- and I thought you'd like them! Here, try."
Xue Yang looks at the candies in his palm and sighs as he falls in love.
"What is your damn problem?" Song Lan spits at him.
"Your relentless bitching, for one," Xue Yang snaps back. His chest is still heaving from the run back- He'd had to make sure Xingchen was heading steadily in the wrong direction before doubling back home through the alleyways. "And also your entire abhorrent personality. Tell me, do you let him whore it up with every person who talks to him for more than five minutes? Does his cuckolding make you hard?"
He's slammed into a wall, Song Lan's usually blank face contorted into a terrifying scowl. "Watch it."
"He didn't even have the decency to tell me you were together till ten minutes ago, you know?" He says, a sick grin on his face as he watches the anger flare in Song Lan's eyes. He doesn't think it's for Xingchen, but it's fun to see it regardless. "Maybe he's getting tired of you? Getting ready to leave for greener pastures. I'm sure you fuck like a demon, but I for one would get tired with being tied to someone who had the emotional capacity of a rock."
Song Lan hits him, properly, with the full might of his ability behind him, the curse shooting jagged daggers of ice up and down the hallway. Xue Yang falls down with the force of it and laughs at the familiar touch of pain after so long of Xingchen's sweetness.
"You don't know shit, Xue Yang," Song Lan says tightly from above him. Song Zichen. "Don't fucking talk about him like that."
"I'll talk about that lying bastard however I damn want," He replies, the phantom mortification of rejection and that shocked, repentant, sweet voice admitting that he and Zichen were together this whole time. "What are you gonna do about it?"
Fight, apparently.
Xue Yang goes out after they're done- he has a contact that evening anyway, sword and talismans and everything- and he needs it, needs to let his shadows come out and have their fill of blood and violence that he couldn't get from Song Lan, and can't bear to be there to see Xingchen when he inevitably comes back home.
He should have known better. Does know better actually, just was too angry to pay heed to it when he set out.
He waits for the shitty lift, blood from his stomach and his nose and his head all congregating on one brown-red mess on the lobby floor. He wants nothing more than to go up and hit the bed and forget this miserable day, but as established by his entire life so far, the universe hates him.
"Xue Yang!" Xingchen gasps, hands flying to his mouth.
"Xue Chengmei," Song Lan repeats, softer, brows furrowed, hands twitching at his sides.
They're dressed up in expensive looking clothes, clearly going for a late dinner, not giving a single shit about where he'd run off to, despite the fact that he would have likely mauled them if they'd tried. Xue Yang can feel the anger rise in his throat at the sight of them, disgusting himself with how much he cared about the horror in their eyes as they looked at the blood dripping down to the floor and the bone sticking out of his arm.
“You’re hurt,” Xingchen whispers, reaching out for him. “Who hurt you?”
“Doesn’t matter.” They’re dead anyways. “Move.”
“I can see bone,” Song Lan says tightly, glaring at him. “You need a hospital.”
Xue Yang snorts. “Yeah, sure- then I’ll definitely wind up dead. Sorry to disappoint, Song Lan, but I plan to stick around to make your life hell for longer.”
The glare intensifies.
"A-Yang," Xingchen says, sounding so heartbroken it scrapes on his nerves. He reaches out to him and Xue Yang steps back, shadows swirling around his ankles.
"Oh, just shut up," He snaps, scowling. “Just- fuck off and get out of this building, both of you. This place isn’t meant for people like you.”
He pushes past Xingchen and swats at the plant down the corner curling towards him. He slams the door shut and snatches up the first aid kit and stitches himself together as violently as he can so that he doesn't think of them at all.
He avoids them after that, retreating to lick his wounds and beat himself up after.
Xue Yang doesn't take any jobs for the next few weeks- can't, really, considering his arm- but he resigns from the shitty retail job he'd been working shifts at and takes a slightly better shitty retail job two streets away. He spends his time using his shadows to scope out whether they're in the building and then avoids them in all ways possible, turning up the music whenever he hears knocking at his door.
At least the art is coming along well.
Surprisingly well actually- he's never managed to finish all his commissions on time. Usually he does as many as he can and then deletes the increasingly angry comments in his email inbox. And one day he looks up, the sky dark outside, and he suddenly realises he feels like drawing for himself.
He goes to bed though, because his wrist is hurting like a bitch. And he wakes up so damn early because of that, he ends up seeing the sunrise. And because of that, combined with the avoidance of his neighbors, means he's actually living healthier than he ever has.
"Ugh," He says, grimacing at the thought as the cashier swipes his products through at six in the fucking morning, so he doesn't have a chance to run into Xingchen.
"Will that be all, sir?" A-Qing says cheekily from behind the counter and Xue Yang narrows his eyes at her.
"Yes, you annoying bitch, you-" He trails off as he suddenly looks past her and sees the paint cans behind her. "Are- those for sale?"
She turns around to look, face suddenly lighting up. A-Qing swirls back around and grabs his hands, making him lean back. "Are you gonna paint your flat? Can I come? I've always wanted to go nuts with some good paint, please?"
"What, no, fuck off!" He says, and then they're somehow both standing outside his flat with cans of different colors.
"I hate you so much," Xue Yang tells her and she plants a big kiss on his cheek as she kicks his door open.
"I'm painting stars on this wall!" She calls out and Xue Yang rolls his eyes and cracks out the paintbrushes. "Hey, these plants need watering, by the way. Also your sofa sucks."
Xue Yang scowls at the mention of the plants. They’d grown into beautiful things, huge and green and flowering, and Xingchen had come in almost every day of the last few months to nurture them further- but they’re growing brown at the edges now without him there.
"Who let you into my house?" Xue Yang mutters, grabbing the nearest knife and holding it to her throat. "Listen, bitch, I was in for the free help home, but you really need to leave. Now."
A-Qing doesn't look surprised at all, looking at him deadpan over the blade. "Wow, I'm so scared. Xingchen said you were a little bitch, but he didn't say you threw temper tantrums as well."
"Wha-" Xue Yang sputters. "I have a knife to your throat."
"Eh," She shrugs, leaning back against the couch. "Xingchen trusts you, even if you are a fucking traitor."
"Xingchen is a fucking bastard," He hisses, shadows snapping out and swirling around the room. "Fuck him, fuck Song Lan, fuck both of them, I hope they both go die in a pit!"
He's shouting by the end of his sentence, plates breaking and plants wilting in their pots, A-Qing staring at him with wide eyes.
"Wow," She says finally. "What did they do?"
"Didn't tell me that they were in a relationship, that's what they did," Xue Yang says, pressing the knife closer. "Now get out or I'll toss you out of the window."
A-Qing moans breathily, shocking him so much that he remains completely slack in said shock as she grabs the knife out of his hand and tosses it out of the window and punches him in the stomach for good measure.
He laughs even as he wheezes for breath, stumbling backwards. “Oh, that’s a good one!” He says, impressed. A-Qing grins. "Gonna be using that.”
He grabs the paintbrush and dips it in the nearest can, in a good enough mood to let her stay. “You know,” A-Qing says slowly, from where she's painting the finishing touches on the huge rack she's given the eldritch horror Xue Yang painted in the living room. “I do love daozhang a lot, both of them- they’re really sweet, very nice to me, give me a lot of cash. But they are very…annoyingly righteous.”
Xue Yang looks up at her, raising an interested eyebrow. She picks up the cat and starts petting her and grins. “Wanna talk shit about them?”
“Do I,” Xue Yang says in delight, and proceeds to have a very enjoyable evening. The soil in his pots is wet when she leaves.
But he's always been low on the self-preservation quota and he prides himself on the shamelessness borne of having nothing and still surviving, so he follows the cat the next morning while she's on her stroll of the nearby balconies- he should really name her soon- and drops down when she does in front of Song Lan.
Song Lan breaks the plate of cat food in his hands.
Xue Yang chuckles, ignoring the hot lick of hunger in his belly at the strength needed to manage that. “Knew you were feeding her, you fucking jerk,” He says casually, like he hadn’t cracked in front of them a few weeks ago and shown them the ugliness inside. His usual smile sits easy on his lips. “Knock it off, she’ll grow fat.”
“She burns it off fast,” Song Lan protests faintly, before twisting to look upwards and then back at Xue Yang incredulously. It is, in its way, deliciously satisfying to see. “What- You- Where the fuck did you come from?”
“Same way the cat did,” He smiles, because he knows it’ll annoy the other. “Xingchen inside?”
“Yes,” He says, startled into replying. He blinks and suddenly rushes forward and Xue Yang stumbles back just as he turns to move inside.
Song Lan pulls his hands back, a strange conflicted look on his face. “Are you alright?”
“Uhh…yeah,” Now Xue Yang’s the one startled into replying. They stare at each other blankly for a few seconds, awkward, before he just gives up and slips past him inside.
“Whoa,” He says when his eyes adjust, bare feet sinking into plush carpeting. This place is cozy. “You guys have a good fucking sense of interior decoration.”
“I do,” Song Lan says dubiously, traitor cat perched on his shoulders. “Xingchen grew up in mountain caves.”
Xue Yang stares at him with his mouth open for a few seconds, until it goes on too long to be a joke. He huffs in laughter. “You’re shitting me.”
Song Lan smiles, a small thing that Xue Yang has never seen before and immediately wants to draw in multiple angles and situations. “Nope. He wanted to get a waterfall.”
Xue Yang cackles at the image of Song Lan very seriously and desperately trying to convince Xingchen that they cannot have a waterfall in their apartment flat. “Ah, good we have you then,” Hearing his mistake as he says it, smile freezing on his teeth, he moves on from shooting himself in the foot to hacking at it with a knife, “And it’s nice to know you’re not just a pretty face.”
Song Lan chokes behind him and Xue Yang flees inside so he doesn't have to deal with the outcome.
He looks around till his eyes land on a white door and he takes the time to roll his eyes before walking in.
“Hey Xingchen,” He says and pauses when Xingchen falls from his careful meditation pose on top of a thin balancing pole in the middle of the room. “Xingchen, what the fuck. Are you fucking okay?”
“Are you?” Xingchen blurts out, stumbling to his feet and wincing as he straightens up. “A-Ya- Xue Yang, the last time we saw you, you looked- you looked like-”
“Shit?” He offers dryly.
“About to die,” Xingchen emphasizes breathily, grabbing his hands. “I didn’t want to pry but- what is your job? Are you in trouble? Can we help you?”
“Song Lan wouldn’t help. Don’t offer his services up like that.” He mutters sullenly, ignoring the rest.
“Zichen would, if it got you safe.” He can’t look at Xingchen anymore, at his pleading and honest eyes. All of his exuberant facade from earlier is nowhere to be found, something panging in his chest at the casual use of ‘Zichen’ and the discomfort of the idea of having someone who doesn’t like him at his back.
“No,” Xue Yang says, looking at his missing pinky. “Xingchen, I- I killed an entire clan.” He blurts it out, no matter that they’re exactly the kind of righteous who would drag him to the nearest police station for the admission. “The Chang clan killer. That’s me. Their Boss pushed me into traffic when I was a child and crushed my fingers. When I got out of the hospital, I went straight to his house and... killed everyone inside.”
They’re both panting by the end of his confession- Xue Yang with exertion, Xingchen with horror. He gulps, one eye staring at Xue Yang, conflicted and disgusted and pitying. It makes him want to scratch his own skin off.
“There’s a…story,” Xingchen says finally, voice rough. “About a thief called Angulimaal. He used to kill people and wear their fingers as a garland, feared through the lands. Then one day, he met the Buddha and talked to him and- and chose peace instead. He meditated, he did charity, he lived to serve others; but one day while passing through a village, they recognized him as the bandit that had terrorized them for so long and…stoned him to death.”
Xue Yang huffs quietly, understanding. “You’ll be with me, but you won’t stop anyone from my past who comes to take revenge. That what you’re saying?”
“Yes,” Xingchen whispers. “And we’ll protect you from those who harm you over nothing.”
Xue Yang raises an eyebrow, "Not really nothing, daozhang."
Xingchen gives a huff of a laugh. "Well. We'll protect you anyway. Just give the word."
"And you'll follow?" Xue Yang purrs, stepping closer, hope silently spilling into him. He grabs Xingchen by the chin. "Be good for me, Xingchen? Obey my orders?"
Xingchen smiles wider, tilting his head as Xue Yang tangles his four fingered hand in his long hair. "I told you I don't move fast in relationships," He says, voice deeper than usual, eye flicking down to his lips and then back up. "Zichen, perhaps, though."
Xue Yang makes a noise that can hopefully pass as a scoff. "Song Lan? How hard did you hit your head, Xingchen?"
Xingchen smiles wryly. "Must have been pretty bad," He agrees, and Xue Yang smiles back, something in him sighing in happiness to bask in this person's glow again. "Help me put ice on it?"
"Ah, can't do that, you'll melt it with all your hotness." Xue Yang says as they walk out, making Xingchen giggle. Somewhere, a door slams shut. "By the way, Xingchen? Tell me everything you know about your curse. I have people who can help you out of it."
It's nice, for a while. Xue Yang is disgusted with himself for it, but he's somehow landed into an actual, honest-to-good, healthy relationship, one that can rival the sappiest TV shows with their sweetness.
A-Qing comes over most of the days of the week- splitting her time between their flats, spending time critiquing his furries and porn and his broken furniture and spending time playing shooting games on Xingchen's huge flatscreen.
Xingchen is even sweeter than usual- Xue Yang had told him not to apologize that first day because he frankly didn't want to think about the whole embarrassing ordeal at all ever again and it meant he'd have to apologize too. But it's in his eyes and hands anyway- soft touches and whispered affections and listening to Xue Yang rage and ramble and staring at him as he pores over the notes they'd collected on their curse.
They're yet to fuck- mostly they just lose time while kissing each other, making out on all manners of places until responsibilities or the pizza delivery guy draw them apart. But somehow, Xue Yang doesn't mind. He's never had anyone to be lazy with, to take his time in learning, to be there for him when he asks.
It's a novelty that's quickly going on too long to remain one for much longer. Soon, he might have to face the fact that being in love may be a bit detrimental to his health.
"Wow," Neighbour lady says, blinking at him over the coffee. "I was not… expecting that."
"Yeah," Xue Yang huffs, taking a sip of the drink she'd bought them. He's acutely aware of the completely different person he's become since they last met. "Song Lan's fucking annoying, though."
"Oh?"
He hadn't really seen the two of them interact since after their fight, even though he's sure they kiss just as much, considering how often Xue Yang tastes the other's peach lip balm on Xingchen's mouth. When they happen to be in the same room, it's all hushed whispers and moving in sync without even looking at each other and small smiles. But mostly, Song Lan keeps running away.
"It's like I have the fucking plague- every time I enter a room, he runs off without even looking at me. If we're watching something, he'll sit at the end of the couch like I'm diseased," Xue Yang scowls. "And it's not like I didn't admit that I was being a bitch that day either- I know he doesn't even think about it anymore, but fucking hell, would a bit of touch kill him?"
"Maybe it's the curse?" She suggests. He snorts. "Just ask him, you'll never know otherwise."
"Nah, not my style. I'll snoop through his drawers this weekend."
"Ah, good idea. When you find nothing, you can finally confront why exactly it's bothering you so much, hm?" She says cheerfully. He throws a sugar cube at her. "Didn't think I'd come back to see you pining over someone while also being in an active relationship with his boyfriend, damn."
"Oh, get the fuck out of here, your cab's waiting outside." He snaps, stung by how acute the observation is. She laughs as she gets to her feet. "You're looking much better, Xue Yang. I'm glad."
He smiles a bit. He'd finally done a background research on her when she texted him to meet up for coffee, to find out her name. She looks so much happier in blues and pinks than she ever did in gold. "Thanks, Mianmian. You too."
She grins, exuberant, picking up her purse. "I told Meng Yao you were dead, by the way." She says easily and his heart skips a beat, tensing up. "Got it confirmed with a fake corpse, called off his network."
"Mianmian," He says, choked, eyes and chest burning hard at the onslaught of information suddenly thrown at him.
She leans down and pecks him on the cheek. "Have a good life, Xue Yang. Try not to be a bitch from now on."
He gapes at nothing as she waves and makes her way to the door. He's fucking free.
"Come back soon!" He calls out as she leaves, heart in his throat, pounding with adrenaline. "The cat misses you."
"I miss you both too!" She calls back with a knowing smile and laughs at the middle finger he sends her way as she walks out into the rain.
But Xue Yang wouldn't be be himself if he was capable of holding things in his hands without breaking them.
Song Lan grates at him more than he expected, the constant brushing off when Xue Yang tries to involve him, the running out of the room and the non-touching, his ghost of his presence around the flat whenever Xingchen smiles at him.
And usually, Xue Yang lashes out. When he feels like he's being backed into a corner, when someone irritates him one too many times, when he thinks about someone for so long, he wants to turn back and sink his shadows into them until they're gone, until he's back to normal.
But Xue Yang loves them, craves them like he never has anyone else before, and one day when Xingchen rearranges the plates at the table to make sure Xue Yang is nowhere close to Song Lan, he does something he's never done before- he gives up.
"I can't do this anymore," He says hoarsely, fingers digging into the wooden chair, feeling like the words are coming from somewhere else. He looks up at Xingchen, who's frozen in horror, staring at him with heartbreak. "I can't. I don't- thanks for everything, Xiao Xingchen. I'll- It was fun."
Xingchen says something, panicked and hurt, and Xue Yang tosses the papers from his bag onto the neatly arranged table. "Here's the notes for breaking your curse. Have a good life."
He turns, ignoring whatever the other is saying behind him and steeling himself against the pain. He walks out, static in his ears, closing warmth behind him as he shuts the door.
He runs into Song Lan on the staircase and reaches up and pulls him down for a kiss before he can stop himself. One time. One time to see what it's like.
Zichen is dazed when he lets go, eyes glassy and far away. Xue Yang presses a lighter kiss to his nose, laughing a bit.
And then he walks away.
"Leave her alone," He pleads, demands, holding an arm out uselessly. He's never been more glad that he'd been out walking in his life. A-Qing stares at him, bloody and whimpering, fear in her eyes as she stares at him desperately from behind the gang members. "She didn't fucking do anything."
"And she never will again," One of the burliest men hisses, burn marks from her ability across his face, gripping his sword tighter as he turns back to A-Qing and Xue Yang reaches out with his shadows and drains away his life force.
Unfortunately, that particular maneuver takes effort, meaning that he's not at his best during the upcoming fight.
"A-YANG!" A-Qing screams as a sword finds its new scabbard in his left kidney. He falls to his knees, spitting blood, and blindly casts out everything he has to throw the people piling up on him to the corners of the warehouse.
"GO!" He yells back. "GET HELP! GET XINGCHEN!"
She sobs, but runs off into the night anyway, leaving Xue Yang panting on his knees with the gang members and minutes left to spare on his life.
At least he kissed his hot neighbours once.
"Get off him," Song Lan says five minutes later, so quiet that everyone stops beating Xue Yang up to look at him. "I'm giving you one warning to leave."
He's in the same expensive clothing as he was on the day of their last fight, full black, something that Xue Yang is now vaguely realizing is actually full nighthunting regalia, not datewear. Xiao Xingchen stands next to him in pure white and a hard glare, yin and yang.
"Curse broken?" He calls out, because he really does have to know.
They turn to look at him, eyes still white, filled with warmth as they stare at him. Xingchen smiles. "Yes, A-Yang."
They turn to the gang again, pulling out their swords, and ice covers the floor, a tight breeze flowing around their opponents, instead of the expected plants and fauna, both their abilities deadly and cold.
Oh, Xue Yang realizes, and then falls to the floor as someone else stabs him in the belly, world going black.
He gets a fever, because the universe hates him. Of course he does.
"You're so stupid," Xingchen whispers to him as he sponges off sweat from Xue Yang's forehead between hazy awakenings. "We don't care about what your ability is. Don't die."
Xue Yang laughs a bit hysterically. Sure, if it saves him some dignity. "Love you too, Xingchen."
When he wakes up for good, without anything spinning or blurry, the room is warm and smells like something that Xue Yang supposes is home, familiar and inviting and content.
"Xue Yang," He hears, Song Lan's calm voice sounding breathy and relieved. He pulls open his eyes and looks to the side, the other man's face still a bit blurry but real. A hand slides onto his cheek, the first time Song Lan has touched him without violence in a month. "Here, water. Do you want food?"
"Anything liquid," He replies hoarsely, letting Zichen wrap his hand around him and pull him to sitting, grabbing the bottle and taking a long swig. "How did you- I called for Xingchen."
Song Lan pulls back, something hurt in his eyes, mouth open but saying nothing.
"You came," Xue Yang continues shakily, his awareness boiling down just to him.
"If-" Song Lan leans back and looks to the side, hunching down, cheeks ruddy, looking hurt. "If you didn't want me to-"
Xue Yang jerks forward and grabs the other's wrists, desperate. He meets Zichen's eyes, his mask of a smile nowhere to be found, letting whatever emotion he had play out in his eyes. He didn't know how he ever thought Zichen didn't- "You came to get me."
Song Lan nods, stiff, and Xue Yang places both his hands on the other's cheeks, skin on skin without bruises. He exhales shakily, gathering every scrap of hope and courage that he has and whispers, "Kiss me?"
Song Lan does, immediately and Xue Yang lets him press him back into the warm, soft couch cushions, and they sigh into each other's mouths at the same time- relief and content and the simmering feeling of a fire dying to the thought of finally.
"Finally," He murmurs after a while and Song Lan draws back completely to stare at him in what looks like mild annoyance and incredulity.
"What do you mean 'finally'?" He demands. "You haven't given one single hint that you liked me for months, right until you kissed me!"
"What? You didn't like me!" Xue Yang sputters. "Every time I touched you, you moved away! I've liked your stupid hot ass since the very first day, you dense motherfucker!"
"The first-" Song Lan curls his fingers into claws, looking like he wants to smack one of them over the head with one of his fancy stones nearby. "If you liked me for so long, why were you being such a-" He says a word that Xue Yang raises an impressed eyebrow at- "For so long? What on earth did I do that first day to make you- fucking- fight me all the damn time?"
Xue Yang scowls at the very reminder, and the added insult that Zichen didn't even know. "You insulted my clothes," He snaps. "Bitch."
"What?" Zichen frowns in confusion, looking unfairly adorable. "What are you-" His eyes widen as he suddenly remembers and turns to look at him. "Xue Yang."
"What?" Xue Yang spits, squirming a bit at the intense look on Zichen's face.
"Xue Yang," Zichen says pleadingly, letting his head fall forward. "I was not insulting your clothes, you dumb fuck."
Xue Yang opens and shuts his mouth a few times, torn between being extremely offended at the insult and wanting desperately to know the full story. "What?"
"It was the dead of winter," Song Zichen stresses, picking his head back up to look at him. "Xue Yang, you were barely wearing one layer of clothes while it was snowing outside. "
"Oh my god," Xue Yang whispers.
"I meant to say that you should probably change into something warm." Zichen is sounding vaguely hysterical and Xue Yang can't say he doesn't feel the same. What the fuck, he is stupid, holy shit, this whole time-
"Oh my god." It's a high-pitched whimper this time.
"Why are you like this?" Zichen hisses desperately, shaking him by the shoulders and Xue Yang wishes he knew. "You are so-"
Xue Yang laughs, still a touch hysterically, and reels him back in for a kiss.
They make out there on the couch, Xue Yang feeling almost painfully loved and in juxtaposition, very high on painkillers, until there's suddenly a haughty huff from above them and a loud crack.
Song Lan makes a startled noise into Xue Yang's mouth and looks up with almost desperate incredulity at Xiao Xingchen. "Did you just slap my ass, Xingchen?"
"I wanted to kiss him first!" Xingchen says hotly, stamping his foot like a toddler throwing a tantrum. How is this his life? "I had to wait so long, and for what? You're sleeping on the couch tonight, Zichen."
Xue Yang laughs at the look on Song Lan's face. "Poor Zichen," He says, "Banished to the couch for kissing crimes."
Song Lan turns to him so quickly Xue Yang hears bones crack. He hesitates before saying hotly, "I don't recall giving you permission to use that name, asshole."
Xue Yang shoots him his best smile. "Can I use your name, Song Zichen?"
Zichen huffs and rolls his eyes. "You may."
They kiss again, because it's the kind of declaration that warrants a kiss, and Xingchen makes an outraged noise and pushes Zichen off the couch.
"Xiao Xingchen," He says from the floor, half-plea and half-indignation and Xue Yang laughs until he's in danger of cracking his ribs.
"I love you both," He says, surprising them all by the admission. They turn to look at him and the cat jumps onto his legs, purring as he reaches out to pet her. "You're not hearing it out of me for a long damn while when I get off these drugs, but I love you both a lot. Irritating as is."
Xiao Xingchen and Song Lan both smile at him, beaming and glowing in their own right, tears in their eyes, dried blood on their hands.
Xue Yang smiles back.