Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

"Stand still, for heavens' sake!" Xie Lian grunted, holding the young man's wrists in a steely grip, unwilling to use any more force and thus cause any more pain if he were met with further resistance.

"As you wish, officer," the vandal purred, voice muffled by his black face mask, a sharp-toothed smile design drawn on it warping as the man's mouth moved.

Yet the promise was as empty as the paint cans that were scattered around—evidence of the crime Xie Lian had been too late to prevent during his night shift. The lanky man moved, his back arching and pelvis bucking back, finding its target, Xie Lian's groin. The trick didn't work; it didn't hurt at all. But another bark or an order got stuck in his throat somewhere halfway towards freedom. The deviant comrade pushed his skinny behind further back, the friction it created deliberate, repulsive.

At least it should have been.

And yet it wasn't.

All his adult life, Xie Lian could almost swear he was impotent (almost, because the state of his body in the mornings clearly advocated against such claims). But at the very least, he was certain he wasn't interested in such things. That single shameful fumble he'd experienced with a girl, the alleged 'hottest thing in the school', must have been proof enough. What was her name again? Lang Chang? Cheng Lan? No matter! What mattered was that she had really wanted to do something together during a party he had gotten dragged to. And well, she was rejected rather spectacularly, if one were to put it politely—Xie Lian hadn't rewarded her advances with more than a flustered glance once one of that girl's giggly chaperones had lured him into the room where she was expecting him in all her naked glory.

Xie Lian had consulted with his friends about it, wondering whether his affliction had been caused by the fact that that girl, pretty or not, was no more than a stranger to him. The experts' opinions were unanimous, however: 'Something is wrong with you.' The verdict was supposed to worry him but it didn't. It wasn't like he wanted something to be right with him. He never fantasised about the carnal and neither did he wish to experience it, and if he were absolutely honest, the very prospect might be a little scary to him (not that he would ever admit or share this bit of information with his trusted expert panel). So he kind of just went about his life as it was, perhaps even slightly proud of this wrongness of his, unaffected by the ridiculous chaos romance was causing around him but not to him.

Now, though, it seemed like the opinion of the two virgins should have been taken more seriously. Something was wrong with him, but in a totally different way. Just to think that some random person, pierced like a sieve, built like a stick-man, and, well, a man on top of that, could just go ahead and turn his stabilising diagnosis inside out. Perhaps it was his long hair that had caused such a dramatic effect, or maybe his husky, raspy voice. It could have been something else entirely, like having never been touched in that place, for example, but the analysis was deemed to be postponed until bedtime, when Xie Lian was undoubtedly going to be unable to sleep, thinking about what exactly was it that was so wrong with him.

The same way the wooden spoon had struggled through overcooked congee Xie Lian had had for breakfast this morning, something stirred in the pit of the officer's stomach, twisting and turning, aiming to knock him out. In a fit of desperate self-defence, Xie Lian struck with his elbow between the man's shoulder blades, a pained grunt that echoed across the shore as the youth's chest got smashed into the wall pulling him back to reality.

That's what he was. The hand of justice, locking the cuffs to restrain the hands that had vandalised public property.

A steadying exhale left Xie Lian's chest as he allowed himself to look up and take in the 'crime'. Peonies, white as snow, their edges stained crimson as though dipped in blood, huge, each the size of an adult's torso, bloomed to cover the dull grey underside of the bridge, some of them so realistic he would think he could go ahead and pluck those blossoms, the others but an outline, the unbelievable step one that could have lead to the completion of the bouquet. The red and blue lights of his patrol car were flashing in their alarming rhythm to illuminate the concrete canvas, turning into a falsely cheerful kaleidoscope as they reflected in the peaks of shallow, quivering waves of the heavily polluted river water.

This was his job. Protecting people ugly old bridges no one even fucking used anymore, apparently.

His movements a practised mechanical execution of rules, Xie Lian patted down the man's body, finding another can of paint, a small butterfly knife he may or may not may or may not happen to forget to mention in the report, a cell phone that could as well have been electronic scrap, and an old metro ticket, a lucky combination of numbers the possible reason this relic was still being kept in the man's pocket: 520520. A vandal and a romantic**.

Xie Lian would have developed even more sympathy towards tonight's perp if the romantic in question hadn't interrupted his melancholic stream of consciousness by running his despicable mouth, voice sultry, somehow equally annoying and pleasant to the policeman's virgin ears and other, no less virgin parts of his.

"Is my lucky ticket to this officer's liking? Is this the reason why he keeps groping me so eagerly? Looking for some more love, aren't we? I guess we could arrange that~."

"Very funny," Xie Lian snickered sarcastically, keeping his calm because no matter what kinds of cases he had to deal with, he was first and foremost a professional. "As you seem to be enjoying collecting trash so much, I bet you'll be thrilled about all those hours of community service that are awaiting you. I could put in a word for you so that you get assigned to street cleaning."

The stupid smile design on the mask suddenly began to irritate Xie Lian, its mockingly dumb arc unsettling. Exasperated, he tore it off and threw it on the ground, revealing, to his great dismay, an even more disturbing shit-eating grin and the guy's bumpy nose. Possibly broken, and, considering its bearer's attitude, possibly not for the last time.

"Constable-gege is so unfair, calling himself trash. If I managed to pick you up, I would treat you like the biggest treasure," the man quipped, flipping Xie Lian's joke like a coin.

Inhaling the minty coolness wafting off the man's chewing gum, the officer gritted his teeth and pulled on the man's bound wrists to send him stumbling towards the car. "Don't put words in my mouth," he hissed.

Retaliation seemed to have only encouraged the scoundrel. He kept going with the pointless jests, his crooked grin so acidic Xie Lian briefly considered picking up the mask from the ground to stuff it in the guy's blabbering trap. "Oh? So strong and fierce. What would you prefer that I put in your mouth then? I might have something on my mind."

"Shut. Up."

At that, Xie Lian overcame his intrusive thoughts and slammed the door shut before he could hear any more obscene bullshittery, his temples throbbing already, and the night had only just begun. What was he going to do with this shameless specimen? And why was his face prickling with heat as he glimpsed the man's reflection in the rearview mirror, his objectively handsome features that relaxed into a peaceful expression once he got lulled into a doze during the lengthy ride to the station?

"Did constable-gege carry me over here?"

Although sore all over and able to only feel his arms because they ached so much, Hua Cheng woke up and chose violence nevertheless. First of all, he had gotten caught. And it sucked. Majorly. So the least he could do was make sure and spoil this cop's shift as much as the latter had spoiled his little outing. Secondly, the aforementioned cop was kind of cute. Massively adorable, to be exact.

The way he tried to look cool and composed was endearing, especially with that blush creeping up his collared neck, making Hua Cheng's teeth itch with a desire to bite, as though he were a puppy which was being teased by the world's most delicious-looking bone. And who would dare to blame him? That constable was not only strong like an ox, despite his unassuming—at the first glance—frame but he also could have been an idol with that face. Or at the very least, do promos for the police force. In that case, this nest of useless power abusers would never ever have problems with recruitment. To become witness of those softly curved lips and doe eyes thousands would apply immediately, perhaps even scum like Hua Cheng himself would have gotten cured and stepped onto the rightful path. In addition, if the police force consisted purely of women and gays, the entire issue of brutality might get instantly resolved. The country would prosper. The crime would be no more.

The pop-star of a police dog muttered something indiscernible under his cute little nose, and even from over the tiny barred corner Hua Cheng had been delivered to, he could see the piles of paperwork the officer was buried in. Oh, that was not good. The cop was probably writing down all the info about him, damning him to a shameless existence as a disorderly citizen. Perhaps he was even going to get blacklisted. Then, he could just go and jump off that bridge instead of finishing his project so many people online had paid for. The little gig might fuck him ten times over if he let the punishment happen.

So, Hua Cheng decided to act. Like a brave dissident that he clearly was, he, naturally, began to whine.

"Gege~"

Awkwardly, Hua Cheng stumbled towards the bars, pressing his face so close against them his nose could breathe the air outside his little cage. The whiff of freedom smelled less like the disgusting basin located near the bench he'd woken up on and more like file folders. The cheap linear lamps were buzzing as they emanated the disgustingly cold, blinding halo around themselves, bestowing the office a perpetual imitation of daylight—possibly to motivate those on night shifts to give the state their absolute best. The fluorescent whip of the 21st century. Not like Hua Cheng would fall as far as to developing sympathy towards his uniformed captor.

"Gege please, let me go. I swear on my father's dear life I will behave well!" Hua Cheng practically sang, accompanying his serenade with lively rattling of his handcuffs against the bars.

No reaction. Not even the slightest stutter of the pen that was swiftly gliding on paper. This didn't mean the pest in him would give up.

"Gege what's your name?"

No reaction again. It was annoying to waste his exquisitely rare puppy eyes on someone so stubborn.

"You should tell me," Hua Cheng warned, his saccharine tone dropping towards something more sinister. "Isn't this my right? What if you are about to assault me here and I won't even know who to complain about?"

Finally, a corner of the officer's lip twitched, his eyelids closing and opening slowly. A pair of dark brown irises granted Hua Cheng the attention he had been clowning for at last.

"Xie Lian is my name," the man responded, loud and clear, as though challenging Hua Cheng to go ahead and file a report this very instant.

The constable's eye bags were exaggerated by the bright light above his head yet this did nothing to dim his natural beauty. Unexpectedly, Hua Cheng's heart skipped a beat. When its rhythm continued after a pause, it was as though the stupid organ was rushing to break out of its own little prison, all for the sake of having a closer look, or perhaps reaching out to tuck a strand of Xie Lian's soft hair behind his ear—the damn thing dared to obscure about ten percent of that ethereal face.

Like a fishing rod, the cop's elegant eyebrow drew an inquisitive arc, pulling Hua Cheng out of whatever sea of daydreaming he had nearly drowned in. Yet instead of gasping for air, his mouth blurted out anything but what he was going to say, ruining the script.

"A name befitting a saint rather than a police dog."

The saint-faced police dog scoffed softly. "Better than your fake-ass name, San Lang." Another scoff and a disbelieving head shake. "Like really? San Lang is what you went for?"

The server that was powering Hua Cheng's brain was disconnected for a moment apparently, because instead of remembering that this was the name he'd put onto his falsified ID, he dumbly blinked at the officer who had just called him his darling so softly. Stupid cop with his stupidly pretty face! he cursed inwardly and was about to demonstrate his best acting skills but it was too late: instead of an Oscar he was getting a stern look, and his audience-breaking monologue was mercilessly interrupted.

"Listen, kid, if you really want your punishment to remain a simple fine, you better act on your promises and stop spewing nonsense. Instead, you are going to hand over your real card, pay the fine like a good, remorseful citizen, and not spray your paint all over public areas ever again, copy?"

Hua Cheng's expression soured just like his mood once he realised that the cop had won this battle. Reassuring himself that the light side or whatever will prevail like in good old fairytales, he dejectedly nodded. It was alright. He'd just let this Xie Lian guy get drunk on his victory until he came back with a better plan.

"Good," the constable replied and let out a relieved sigh. "I assume you are not actually underaged, are you?" he then asked, eyeing Hua Cheng askance.

Shoving away the thoughts about how much he enjoyed having Xie Lian's eyes all over himself, Hua Cheng accepted the challenge. "And what if I am? Don't tell me officer-gege is in trouble because of that?" he fretted dramatically, not even bothering to sound genuine.

A lackadaisical little shrug was certainly not the response he was aiming for. The pen gave the sheet several thoughtful taps.

"Well, in this case I need to inform your parents about their son's late-night activities. They are probably worried sick while you're sitting here, endangering their lives with your empty vows."

"No!" Hua Cheng protested, louder than intended, his cuffs hitting the bars again with a loud clang.

Xie Lian raised an eyebrow again and tilted his head to the side, simply observing him with an almost bored expression. Realising he had fucked up, Hua Cheng hurried to gather his slippery composure, schooling his expression into something that only resembled his faux-pathetic state and not the true misery that burned behind the masks his face constantly was hidden behind, both figuratively and literally. It seemed, Xie Lian knew exactly how to get rid of both.

After a deep breath, Hua Cheng continued. "I mean, I am twenty-two, I really am. Gege can walk over and get the real ID—I have it on me. "

To ensure that Hua Cheng tasted his defeat in its full magnificence, Xie Lian beamed. The smile was executed so well, looked so real, it nearly knocked him several feet back. Weak to this terrifying weapon of psychological warfare, all Hua Cheng could do was meekly bleat out a plea. "Will gege take the cuffs off me? It hurts."

"It's Xie-jingguan, and you know it," the cop replied calmly as he put his pen away and rose to his feet. Before Hua Cheng managed to come up with a teasing remark—he was elated that at least one of his tricks seemed to have irked the man—Xie Lian dropped another law-prohibited bomb. "If you're as big a boy as you're claiming, you should behave accordingly."

Now, Hua Cheng didn't know whether Xie Lian had said this with the intention to have a certain effect on him. And even less could he understand why the words crawled into his ears and travelled down his spine with a slight shiver. He observed Xie Lian walk towards the cell, the fabric of his pants tightly hugging the muscles it was covering, his half-lidded eye somehow catching the sight of bare fingers, not a single ring in sight. It wasn't like Xie Lian's boundaries mattered shit to him (he had crossed plenty during their first interaction), but for some reason, he found himself rather pleased with the fact the man wasn't married. Most likely, he was glad the sly bastard was lonely. Certainly. For sure. It was what he deserved.

Before Hua Cheng knew it, the officer was in front of his face, his gaze expecting.

"It's in the hidden pocket of my hoodie," Hua Cheng muttered, his cuffed hands hovering above the spot to guide the cop.

The elegant hand snaked between the bars and dipped into the big pocket in the middle until it found what it was looking for. Xie Lian's collared neck was right there for Hua Cheng to see, the overgrown hair slipping aside in invitation. Hua Cheng was sick in his head, alright? Truly, he was beyond remedy and he knew it, but the scale of his vile nature must have been kept in check until now. Without giving it a second, or even any, thought, he puckered his lips and blew a cool stream of air against the pale skin.

In an instant, goosebumps sprang on top of the silky-smooth surface. The ID was yanked out of his pocket, and the officer jumped away as though burnt. The eyes that were now glowering at Hua Cheng were filled with ire.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing?!" the man yelled, his shoulders pulled in.

He looked utterly scandalised if not straight up disgusted. Although this was exactly the kind of anger Hua Cheng had been so painstakingly struggling to elicit out of the man, the achieved result didn't make him happy at all. If anything, he, possibly for the first time in his wretched life, felt sorry.

"I—" he stuttered, his mouth so dry his throat ached with each inhale.

He was cut off with a dark hiss. "The cuffs stay on! And you are going to spend the night in your cute little cell and think about your behaviour. If you even will be let go after I've filed the report that is!"

The vexed beauty of a police dog thus strode away and back to his desk. For a long while, Hua Cheng remained on spot as though frozen, as though hoping that the officer would take another look at him and forgive him. Alas, the Hachiko act merited no fruits, and soon, when his legs began to burn after standing for so long, he stumbled to the humble bench that was going to be his bed tonight. It smelled like sweat, mould, and cheap cigarettes. In other words, it was nothing out of the ordinary. Perhaps even a little better than his own home.

Hua Cheng grieved for some time, but when no sleep came to him despite the deep pit of boredom he was wallowing in, he tried to draw Xie Lian's attention again.

"Gegeeee!" he called. "Gege, give me a sheet of paper and a pen too."

Nothing. They were back to square zero.

"Not to file a report, I promise! You told me not to draw on public property, but surely a piece of paper belonging to the Ministry of Public Security wouldn't count?"

Although his tone was hinting at the fact that Xie Lian was even more bored than Hua Cheng (if this was at all possible), at least, it was better than silence. Maybe the constable was indeed so fed up with his mundane work that talking to Hua Cheng seemed like a valid entertainment option.

"And what was it exactly that gave you an impression that a holding cell is the same as a playroom?"

"So gege won't play with me?" Hua Cheng purred seductively, pouting—a lesson not learnt. In his defence, one shouldn't have expected a school dropout to be quick-witted and know how to read the room! It was impressive enough he could read at all.

Sadly, Xie Lian didn't know or didn't care about entertaining a neglected child.

Instead, he exhibited a massive didactic error and ignored Hua Cheng's—that was the real name of the bridge offender—further advances. This didn't mean that the pathetic yapping stopped immediately, be it complaints about his wrists or requests to open the window, or inquiries whether the constable could turn away because he needed to take a leak.

But eventually, the office grew blissfully quiet, and Xie Lian had an opportunity to breathe again, the spot on his neck Hua Cheng's breath ghosted against still burning. The thing was, the young culprit was driving him absolutely insane. Already, he had lost control several times, allowed shameful slips-ups, and broke some rules if not laws. Like truly, why hadn't he still uncuffed the man? Maybe he simply wanted Hua Cheng to file that complaint and get a disciplinary… He was just so tired.

The clock on the wall ticked towards 2 a.m. at a snail's tempo, but it meant the colleague he was actually supposed to work together with tonight would soon come back from whatever urgent private business he had, and the whole ordeal might become a little less boring. Pei Ming would sure as hell know how to deal with this flirtatious youth.

"Gege…"

"Speak of the devil!" Xie Lian cursed under his breath. Entering an almost meditative state, the officer drew a long inhale through his flared-up nostrils and didn't respond. The practise had shown that the handsome perp would sooner or later give up and shut up again.

"Gege," the voice called one more time, sounding weak and miserable, even more so than before, which deserved some credit actually.

Xie Lian was going to stay strong. He could do it. He had handled worse. He had stayed calm while dealing with corpses, for fuck's sake. Surely some brat wasn't going to be his kryptonite of all things.

"I'm not feeling well," the hoarse timbre croaked from the other side of the office, the soles of threadbare shoes scuffling against the dirty tiles. So Hua Cheng was back up, possibly leaning against the bars again and peering at Xie Lian's form from behind his greasy fringe. Not like Xie Lian was going to look up and check—he knew better than that.

And then, he heard some commotion resonating from the cell, the handcuffs hitting metal, but not the bars. The sound was lighter, more hollow. The sink? It must have been, because soon, the distinct noise of a human vomiting his soul out carried across the office.

Thoroughly cussing out the man who had cried 'Wolf!' a tad too many times tonight, Xie Lian jumped up to his feet, shooting an alerted glance at the cell. Inside, Hua Cheng had already finished his business and slid down on the floor, hunching, his chest heaving so heavily that the movement was clearly visible even with the baggy hoodie on that his upper body was drowning in. Several sharp coughs left the man's throat, and by the time Xie Lian had opened the cell to have a closer look, Hua Cheng was barely responsive, his airways wheezing in a futile attempt to deliver that vital oxygen to his lungs.

"Hua Cheng! Hua Cheng!" Xie Lian called out trying to keep his calm not to agitate the clearly disoriented man, propping his body into a comfortable sitting position with one arm, the other unlocking the cuffs. "Fuck!" he gritted, conducting a hopeful search of Hua Cheng's clothes for the second time tonight. As expected, he found nothing useful in Hua Cheng's numerous pockets other than several more crumpled tickets.

"Do you have your inhaler on you somewhere?" Xie Lian asked softly, well aware of the effects that an asthma attack could have on a person's mind and body. Hua Cheng's lips moved, his head turning left and right in a weak negation.

"Fuck!" Xie Lian spat again, barely audible, once he noticed that the man's lips and fingertips began to shine with a blueish tint, his lanky frame shaking in Xie Lian's arms, face sickly pale, hair clinging to the sweaty skin.

He had to act quickly. He was praying the department's first aid kit had something that would help and put his brain to work as he tried to remember everything he had been taught during the medical care training.