Work Text:
I like the name da bao more better than suo wei hehe so I will only use that
The clock struck 9:47 p.m.
Not that Da Bao was watching it or anything.
Not that he’d checked his phone fourteen times since dinner.
Not that he was lying in bed dramatically kicking his heels against the mattress like a wronged palace consort.
Absolutely not.
“Chi Cheng, you jerk,” he muttered, flopping sideways into the mess of pillows he’d angrily rearranged at least six times. “I hope your snake bites you.”
His phone lay untouched on the nightstand, screen blank. No messages. No emojis. No boring ‘have you eaten?’ texts. Not even a stupid snake photo captioned with a dot. Chi Cheng’s signature texting style: understated, underwhelming, and somehow still enough to make Da Bao’s chest do somersaults.
But today? Nothing.
All. Day.
He buried his face in a cushion and let out a dramatic groan loud enough to shake the fabric. “I even wore the cute shirt today. The one he said makes me look like a garden peach!”
From the armchair across the room, Xiao Shuai didn’t even look up from his book.
“What are you doing,” he asked flatly.
“Suffering,” Da Bao snapped, voice muffled. “Dying. Decomposing. Rotting in rejection.”
“It’s been one day.”
“One eternity.”
“He’s probably busy.”
“Busy not loving me!”
Xiao Shuai sighed and lowered his book. “Da Bao.”
“What?” Da Bao turned around with wide, mournful eyes and a full-body flop that would make drama school students weep in awe. “Is this what heartbreak feels like? Like your spleen is eating itself in despair?”
Xiao Shuai blinked. “That’s not how spleens work.”
Da Bao kicked his legs again, pouting at the ceiling. “Chi Cheng doesn’t care about spleens. Or feelings. Or boyfriends with soft skin and fragile egos!”
“I didn’t realize you were his boyfriend now,” Xiao Shuai said, arching an eyebrow.
Da Bao shrieked and launched a pillow at him. “MASTER!”
Xiao Shuai caught the pillow one-handed and set it aside without breaking eye contact. “Don’t ‘Master’ me. You’re the one who decided to fall for the emotionally unavailable snake man.”
“He wasn’t always like this!” Da Bao whined. “He used to text me back!”
“He probably still would, if you hadn’t spammed him with sixteen selfies of your new hair parting and three memes about tragic pining.”
“They were tastefully edited!”
Xiao Shuai sighed again and closed his book. “I’m not doing this tonight.”
“But you’re my master! My guide! My life coach in matters of homosexual misfortune!”
“I can’t help you this time, Da Bao,” he said dryly. “Your love life has entered the tragic opera phase.”
Da Bao clutched his blanket dramatically. “So you’re just going to let me suffer?”
“Yes.”
Da Bao gasped like he’d been betrayed. “You were supposed to be the wise mentor!”
“I am. That’s why I’m staying out of it.”
Da Bao flopped again, dramatically this time, with arms thrown out like he was starring in a korean drama and showing his skills while acting dead. “Chi Cheng said he’d call me last night, you know. ‘Tomorrow’s light, Da Bao. I’ll call you when I’m done.’” He mimicked Chi Cheng’s low, rumbling voice with ridiculous exaggeration. “‘Done’ with what, huh? Digging his way out of my heart with a soup spoon?!”
“Maybe he’s just asleep.”
“ASLEEP?!”
Xiao Shuai nodded once. “People do that.”
Da Bao bolted upright, blanket around his shoulders like a shawl. “You know what? That’s it. I’m going full cold war. Radio silence. No replies. No calls. Let him stew in my absence.”
Xiao Shuai didn’t even blink. “You’ll last twelve minutes.”
“I’ll last twelve days!”
“Twelve. Minutes.”
Da Bao glared. “You underestimate my power.”
“I’ve known you for almost a year now. I know exactly how much power you don’t have.”
Da Bao rolled off the bed like a wounded prince, landing on the floor with a muffled “oof” and dragging the blanket with him. “Maybe I’ll just move to another city. Start over. Change my name. Open a snake-free flower shop in the countryside.”
“Chi Cheng hates flowers.”
“That’s the point!”
Xiao Shuai pinched the bridge of his nose. “Would you like me to order you tea or psychiatric help?”
“Neither,” Da Bao pouted. “I want love. And affection. And one freaking emoji.”
Just then, his phone buzzed.
Da Bao froze.
Xiao Shuai looked up sharply.
“You better not scream,” he warned.
Da Bao crawled across the floor like a goblin, snatched his phone, and held it up.
He read the screen.
Then frowned.
“…It’s the food delivery app. I forgot I pre-ordered pudding.”
Xiao Shuai let out a small snort.
Da Bao’s shoulders slumped. “I swear, if Chi Cheng doesn’t message by midnight, I’m throwing myself into a koi pond.”
“You don’t own a koi pond.”
“Then I’ll buy one just to drown in it.”
“I’m sure Chi Cheng will be very impressed.”
Da Bao sighed, falling onto the floor with a long, pitiful whine. “I don’t understand him.”
“He’s quiet. You're... not.”
“We’re perfect,” Da Bao whispered dramatically to the ceiling.
“Opposites attract,” Xiao Shuai said dryly.
“I love him so much it makes me stupid!”
“I thought you hated him"
“ I do, He's a jerk but Still he will be Mine"
“Mission accomplished.”
Da Bao groaned and curled into a sad little burrito. “Tell me what to do, Master.”
Xiao Shuai tilted his head. “Do you want comfort or honesty?”
“I want Chi Cheng to appear outside this room and kiss my forehead while apologizing for emotionally neglecting me!”
“Well, unless you summoned a snake demon, that’s unlikely.”
“…Then honesty.”
Xiao Shuai stood, walked over, and crouched beside him. His voice was quieter now.
“You like him. A lot.”
Da Bao nodded into the blanket. “Maybe”
“He’s not good with words. But he does care. You know that, right?”
“…Maybe.”
“But,” Xiao Shuai said firmly, “if he starts making you feel small, like your love’s a burden—then he’s not worth all this.”
Da Bao looked up, wide-eyed.
“You think I’m a burden?”
“I think you’re dramatic. But also honest. Open. Real. People like you scare people like him.”
Da Bao blinked. “You mean I’m too much?”
“I mean you’re enough. But he has to see that.”
They were quiet for a moment.
Then Da Bao mumbled, “…What if he just got tired of me?”
Xiao Shuai tilted his head. “Then that’s his loss.”
Silence fell again.
Until Da Bao's phone buzzed.
He didn’t look.
He was scared to.
Xiao Shuai nudged his arm. “Well?”
Da Bao slowly unlocked it.
One message.
> Chi Cheng:
sorry I was busy today. Missed you
Da Bao melted onto the floor with a dreamy sigh. “He missed me.”
Xiao Shuai rolled his eyes. “God help us all.”
“But What if he was with Yui Yui" and started crying again
“SUO WEI For God's sake Shut Up"
~~~
The room was quiet except for the low hum of the ceiling fan and the distant chatter of nurses in the hallway. Sunlight filtered in through the blinds, painting sleepy golden lines across the floor and the edge of the bed.
Da Bao was sulking.
Again.
Wrapped like a depressed burrito in his hospital-issued blanket because he refused to use blanket Chi Cheng gave him, his hair poking out in disheveled clumps from under the edge, he hadn’t moved for the past twenty minutes.
Not since he heard that Chi Cheng had finally shown up in the building.
Not since he felt that familiar, careful energy pass outside his door and chose to hide like a child who didn’t get their birthday gift.
“Idiot,” he muttered into the pillow.
There was a gentle knock at the door.
Then silence.
Then the soft creak of it opening.
Da Bao stilled, heart pounding harder than he wanted it to. He didn’t need to see to know who it was. The quiet, confident footsteps gave him away. So did the slight scent of metal and aftershave.
Chi Cheng.
He didn’t say anything at first. Just closed the door with a soft click behind him.
Then—
“Move over.”
Da Bao refused.
Chi Cheng’s voice was deeper than usual, coated in amusement. “Da Bao.”
No response.
“Don’t make me scoop you like roadkill.”
The blanket wiggled slightly in offense. “Maybe I am roadkill. Emotionally.”
Chi Cheng laughed softly. That deep, chesty kind of laugh that rumbled like thunder but never quite struck.
Then the bed dipped slightly behind Da Bao.
A warm presence. A soft rustle of clothing. A pause.
“Scoot,” Chi Cheng said again.
With a huff, Da Bao begrudgingly shuffled over a little—not enough to be inviting, just enough not to fall off the bed.
Chi Cheng slid in behind him, fully clothed, cool fingertips brushing once against Da Bao’s back as he settled. He didn’t touch him. Not quite.
Just… existed behind him. Warm. Real.
“Didn’t message all day,” Da Bao muttered, voice muffled against his pillow.
“I know.”
“You were probably with your girlfriend.”
Chi Cheng didn’t answer right away.
Then—he chuckled. A low, unhurried sound.
“What if I was?” he teased lightly.
Da Bao stiffened.
And then, much to Chi Cheng’s surprise, he heard a tiny sniffle.
Just one.
But it was real.
And it made the blood drain from his face.
“Da Bao?” he said, leaning forward.
Da Bao curled tighter into himself. “Just say it.”
Chi Cheng frowned. “Say what?”
“That you like her.”
His voice was small. Fragile.
“I’ll… I’ll stop bothering you if that’s what you want.”
Chi Cheng exhaled, long and slow, a weight settling in his chest like a stone.
“I can’t see your face,” he said softly.
Da Bao didn’t move.
So Chi Cheng did.
He shifted onto his elbow, leaned over Da Bao’s cocooned form, and gently—so gently—peeled the blanket down until he saw Da Bao’s eyes.
They were glassy.
One tear had already slipped down his cheek.
Chi Cheng’s jaw clenched.
“I can’t see you in tears,” he murmured.
And then he leaned in.
His lips pressed softly against the trail the tear had left. A kiss so gentle, it barely registered as touch—more like an apology made physical.
Da Bao’s breath hitched.
“I’m sorry,” Chi Cheng whispered.
Another kiss. This time to the corner of Da Bao’s mouth.
Da Bao blinked up at him, eyes still watery. “You are?”
Chi Cheng nodded.
“I wasn’t with anyone,” he said quietly. “I was just tired. Overworked. Didn’t mean to ignore you.”
“Then why’d you say what if I was?”
Chi Cheng gave a faint smile. “Because I’m an idiot. I thought you’d snap back with something dramatic like ‘then I’ll throw myself in front of a snake cage.’”
Da Bao’s lower lip trembled. “You made me cry.”
Chi Cheng’s fingers found his cheek, brushing along his jaw like he was afraid Da Bao might disappear if he pushed too hard.
“I know,” he said. “That’s why I’m here.”
Da Bao sniffled again. “You scared me.”
“I scare myself sometimes,” Chi Cheng admitted. “Especially when it comes to you.”
That made Da Bao look up.
Really look.
He hadn’t expected Chi Cheng to say that.
“You… what do you mean?”
Chi Cheng leaned his forehead against Da Bao’s and closed his eyes for a moment.
“I’m used to being alone,” he said quietly. “Used to people who want something until I give it. Then they leave.”
Da Bao blinked. “So you shut people out before they can do it first.”
Chi Cheng opened his eyes again.
“You didn’t leave,” he whispered.
Da Bao smiled, small and broken. “I’m clingy. Like a vine.”
Chi Cheng laughed under his breath. “A dramatic vine.”
They stayed like that for a moment.
Da Bao under him, still pouty, still hurting—but his eyes were softer now.
Chi Cheng leaned down again. He expected da bao as usual to turn his face but this time he was frozen
This time, the kiss landed properly—on Da Bao’s lips.
A slow press. Not desperate. Just real. Honest.
It didn’t ask for anything.
It just said I’m here.
When he pulled back, Da Bao blinked up at him, dazed. “I’m still mad at you.”
“I know.”
“You owe me a date.”
“Done.”
“And a foot massage.”
“Let’s not push it.”
Da Bao huffed. “Jerk.”
Chi Cheng smirked. “Yours, though.”
Da Bao grumbled, wrapping his arms around Chi Cheng’s neck and pulling him back down to lie beside him.
“You better not disappear again,” he mumbled into Chi Cheng’s shoulder.
“I won’t.”
“You’re not allowed to ghost me, even if your snakes are laying eggs.”
“Got it.”
“And if you ever say you were with another girl again, I’ll cry so hard the koi pond overflows.”
Chi Cheng chuckled. “Then I better watch my words.”
“You better.”
They lay in silence for a while, the room warmer now, the air heavy with unsaid things.
Finally, Da Bao whispered, “I missed you.”
Chi Cheng’s arms tightened around him. “I missed you more.”
Da Bao buried his face in Chi Cheng’s chest and sighed.
And this time, when the tears came, they weren’t from sadness.
Just relief.
Then Chi Cheng whisper slowly
"I want to sleep with you"
"CHI CHENG YOU JERK"
The End
Shall I write more on them!?