Archive of Our Own

A Traditional Christmas

 ..❅*. *❅.❆ ❅*. ❆. *❆..

Liu Qingge absolutely doesn’t care that he’s alone for Christmas. Not one bit.

He stared out the window of his car at the snowy floodlit field of the gym, trying to figure out whether he’d be able to work through some basic footwork in the knee-high powder. 

It was only snow. Really. It was kind of pathetic how everything, gyms included, shut down the minute an unexpected snowstorm hit. Now Liu Qingge was going to have to go and box in their basement until the weather returned to a more natural and normal temperature for Beijing’s winter, and Liu Mingyan would complain about him sweating inside and making it smell. 

Ugh. Mingyan. She was supposed to be flying back from Shanghai to spend the holidays home with Liu Qingge, but with snow continuing to fall across the country by the bucketful, her flights had been canceled. So here Liu Qingge sat, in his Jeep with the windows misting up, trying to scour his brain for somewhere where he could box on the 22nd of December. 

He huffed, yanking the car in gear in the way that made the gearbox crunch unhappily and lurched off on the route home. The car radio crackled as he went over a pothole and the dulcet tones of Wham! fill the overly warm space. 

“Once bitten, and twice shy. I kept my distance, but you still catch my eye-”

A small crease forms between Liu Qingge’s eyebrows, and he fumbles around with the buttons on the dashboard. The channel switches, the quiet hum of interference a welcome relief as the radio tries to find the next channel up. Maybe they’ll be the only sane channel playing actual music in the holiday season. 

He never listened to the stuff by choice, it was always his sister insisting it was festive, ge! or Shen Yuan’s delighted teasing of only grouches don’t like Christmas music, Shidi! Then Liu Qingge would be stuck, and worst of all, he couldn’t listen to the damn stuff without thinking of them anymore.

White drifted past his windscreen in increasingly heavy flurries, and Liu Qingge was forced to slow to a near crawl to make sure he could see where the sidewalk ended, and the road began. He leaned forward, cursing quietly with his eyes narrowed as he tried to see past the cottony whiteness that kept landing on the glass and melting into semi-opaque slush before being swept away by the wipers. 

The radio kicked in suddenly, jumping straight into Driving Home for Christmas, Chris Rea’s cheerful voice blasting out of the speakers and nearly sending Liu Qingge into cardiac arrest. With a snarl, Liu Qingge poked the button for the next channel, barely glancing down. He looked back up and slammed on the emergency break.

There was a man.

Standing in the middle of the road.

In a snowstorm.

The car skidded to a stop a few feet away from the man, bright headlights illuminating a well-wrapped-up figure who seemed to be wearing the yearly yield of a flock of sheep on his person.

Liu Qingge took a couple of heaving breaths, hands shaking with adrenaline, and felt anger course up his spine. 

“Absolute, fucking idiot!” He snapped, whacking the steering wheel with his open palm, unbuckling himself, and preparing to give the man a lecture on why jaywalking was illegal. He hesitated, a niggling voice that sounded irritatingly like Shen Yuan whispering What if he’s in trouble? Don’t be a brute in the back of his mind.

The man himself didn’t appear angry that he’d nearly been rammed by a moving vehicle, instead, he looked nearly delighted. Squinting into the headlights from below a grey knitted hat, the strange man raised a gloved hand in a similar color and waved cheerfully into the cabin. 

Nothing for it. Liu Qingge sighed heavily and opened his door.

“Are you lost?” He called out, the words not sounding as friendly as he’d been going for.

“Ah! Yes! I’m incredibly lost!”

The man’s voice was lightly accented, clearly American, but he spoke standard Mandarin clearly. 

He had one of those faces that looked deceptively young, perhaps mid-thirties, but he carried himself with the sort of confidence that typically accompanied someone older. If he’d had work done, it was the kind that was so expensive that you couldn’t quite tell.

Some sort of businessman? Stuck in Beijing for the holidays?

Now Liu Qingge did feel slightly less angry. It was difficult to be angry, it seemed, with unfortunate businessmen who peered down at him from under a wave of dark curls, and from an unfortunately attractive face. 

It took a moment for Liu Qingge to notice the man hadn’t stopped talking.

“-And then it was canceled! How inconvenient. Luckily I had all this knitwear and had just finished the hit Chinese drama Love O2O , so I was thinking of tempting fate by stepping out into the snow to recreate those dramatic, snowy moments”, the man turned his eyes back to Liu Qingge, and seemed to give him an odd sort of look over. 

“Seems it was quite a reliable blueprint, don’t you think?” he finished and actually winked at Liu Qingge.

He’d winked! How patronizing!

Liu Qingge bristled, standing up slightly straighter (and cursing Americans and their ridiculously tall genetics), and tried to figure out if the man was trying to start a fight. 

“Are you trying to get somewhere in particular?” Liu Qingge tried, grounding his teeth and thinking about how disappointed Mingyan would be if he FaceTimed her tomorrow from a detention center. 

“Well, you could say that.” The man’s voice dropped an octave, and he seemed to lean forward.

Definitely looking for a fight.

“As tempting as it is, I can’t spare any time now. If you’re not lost, I’m getting back in my car and going home”

The man’s hand snapped out, and he grabbed a handful of Liu Qingge’s coat. Liu Qingge was mentally evaluating how angry Mingyan would be if he just decked the guy. Technically, he hadn’t struck first.

“I’m staying at The Penninsula Beijing. Do you know it?” 

So the guy wanted directions after all! Jeez. Trying to start a fight and then pretending it never happened? 

“Everyone knows it. You’re not too far,” Liu Qingge pointed down the street, away from his gym, “You just follow this road till you get to the sign for China International Travel Service, take a left, and the place should be right in front of you. Huge. Dark wood traditional doorway. Loads of Bentleys. You can’t miss it.”

The man tilted his head as he looked down at Liu Qingge, an oddly amused smile curling at the corners of his lips, “May I know the name of my gracious savior?”

“Liu Qingge.” 

Liu Qingge paused, this was one of those ‘being rude’ things that Shen Yuan was always going on about. He was supposed to say something else here, right? “It's, uh, nice to meet you.”

The man’s smile widened, “The pleasure is all mine, Liu Qingge.”

Ok. Now the silence was just awkward. The man wouldn’t stop staring at him.

“Uh. Good luck. Getting back, I mean.” Liu Qingge managed, “There are good whiskey bars around there.”

Why did he say that? He wouldn’t have normally said that. This was quickly becoming the worst and longest conversation in Liu Qingge’s recent memory, and he was extremely keen for it to end.

The man thankfully dropped his sleeve, but he spoke with the same low voice as before, “I’ll have to check them out. Do you go often, Qing-er ?”

Liu Qingge was ready to leave. The strange glint in the man's eyes was making him uncomfortably warm beneath his coat, and he was certain he was flushed. Maybe it’s because he’d gone from somewhere hot to somewhere cold too quickly.

“Uh, most Saturdays?”

“Hmm, I’ll have to check them out.”

“Yeah. Sure. Well. Happy Christmas.” Liu Qingge was leaving. His face nearly steaming, he turned on his heel and stomped through the thickening snow towards his jeep. 

From his slightly-ajar door, he could hear his radio playing a muffled rendition of All I Want for Christmas is You across the snowy street. His windscreen wipers fanned dutifully at the flakes settling ever-thicker across the glass.

“Happy Christmas!” The man called out, waving and thankfully heading to the sidewalk with broad strides, seemingly unbothered by the ankle-high slush around his expensive-looking leather shoes.

Settling behind the wheel and putting the car in gear, Liu Qingge pretended he hadn’t seen the waving. He was about to close the door and give up with the radio, when he heard a low voice drifting down the street, matching up with the end of the song.

“All I want for Christmas-” the man paused in time with the song.

Liu Qingge jabbed the ‘Off’ button on his dashboard, and slammed the door, abruptly cutting off the half-yelled lyrics from outside.

What a strange man.

 ..❅*. *❅.❆ ❅*. ❆. *❆..

With a towel around his waist and a toothbrush in his mouth, Liu Qingge typed out a reply to his little sister with his free hand.

Liu Qingge’s phone buzzed again, and he rinsed his mouth before checking.

Liu Qingge ignored her. She was lucky to be in his phone at all. 

If he had his way, his precious Meimei wouldn’t be hanging around such a bad influence, no matter how often she bought Mingyan flowers and took her out. Screw her and her ridiculously wealthy family. Her only saving grace was that for some inexplicable reason, she made Mingyan happy.

Liu Qingge grabbed his sweaty clothes from the bathroom floor and made his way through the quiet apartment to his room. 

There was a bare plastic tree in the lounge and a few boxes of ornaments on the floor beside it. He’d dragged it out of its place in the storage cupboard yesterday because Mingyan liked them to decorate it as soon as she was back. He glanced at it and figured he could lug the thing and the boxes back to their cupboard tomorrow.

With a sigh, he pulled on a pair of worn sweats and made a beeline to the bottom left cupboard in his kitchen. 

Liu Qingge liked whiskey. Specifically, he liked Toki Whiskey, with soda water, and an obscene amount of lemon. He didn’t often drink, but he did keep a bottle of his expensive Japanese whiskey in the bottom left cupboard for the days the mood struck.

He opened the door, peered into the empty space, and his eyes landed on a suspiciously neat note.

Ge, I have taken your whisky. You only really drink at Christmas, and I’ll bring another bottle home with me. I’m looking forward to spending it with you!

Love,

Mingyan <3

Liu Qingge stared at the note blankly. He sighed and made his way back to his room.

He was not doing this without whiskey.

 ..❅*. *❅.❆ ❅*. ❆. *❆..

Liu Qingge glared up at the liquor store’s unlit sign and tried to make out any sign of life in the dark interior. 

This was the third store. He couldn’t just go to a convenience store, because Toki was decent whiskey, unlike the shitty stuff those places usually sold.

He was dressed in a pair of his nicer dark slacks and a grey jumper, and the same coat as earlier with the addition of a thick blue-grey scarf, but the cold was surely and steadily seeping into his extremities the longer he stood there. 

It was coming down a little lighter now, more ‘picturesque postcard’ than ‘blizzard’, but the damage had already been done. It seemed almost all the shops were closed, even the bars, and the only places that were still open were the ones that had to be.

A couple walked past him, a young woman with two buns held the arm of a man in his mid-twenties and chatted animatedly, the guy had a stupid expression on his face as he watched her. They continued up the street a little, coming to a set of double doors, and a man in a suit greeted them politely.

“Welcome back, Ming-Xiānsheng and Ning-Xiǎojiě,” The doorman said, bowing and opening the hotel door for the two. They smiled and continued the conversation until it was cut off by the doors sliding shut. 

Liu Qingge looked after them for a moment. He listened to the muffled quiet of the city, sighed, and made his way up the street. 

He wasn’t going to go to the same hotel as the couple (he’d tried that one before, no Toki), but there was one a few streets up that he’d sometimes end up in after work. They knew him well enough to keep the bottles of Toki stocked up and were happy to leave him alone for a quiet drink. They were on the expensive side, being a bar attached to a four-star hotel, but at least that meant they were probably open.

The doorman smiled at him and bowed, “Welcome, Xiānsheng”.

Liu Qingge nodded back at him and walked through the open door. 

The warmth was an immediate relief, rushing up to greet him and bringing a stinging feeling to the tips of his fingers. The usual receptionist looked up at him and offered a smile, before turning back to the desk.

Liu Qingge unwrapped himself as he walked, unfurling the scarf and shrugging off his heavy coat as he made his way to the bar. The girl there smiled and gave him a small bow.

“Hello Xiānsheng, is it the usual tonight?”.

Liu Qingge took an unoccupied stool, shoving his scarf and coat onto the empty one beside him, and nodded, “Please.”

The room was a little busier than normal, likely the result of tourists being unable to go to their evening plans or make their reservations, but it wasn’t loud or overly busy. This was a traditional Chinese hotel, and there wasn’t an overabundance of Christmas decorations or irritating music floating from the speakers, instead, a soft melody composed of a guzheng and dizi drifted through the room.

Liu Qingge felt his spine relaxing slightly, and he flexed his tingling fingers to get the blood going.

With his drink in front of him and the quiet buzz of talking in the background, Liu Qingge pulled out his phone. He opened his WeChat and didn’t have to scroll before he found the right contact.

He didn’t have to wait long before his phone buzzed, the name coming up on the screen shooting a familiar pang through him.

A series of buzzes drew his attention to four photos of a smiling Shen Yuan, and his disgusting boyfriend, Luo Binghe. They were posing in front of an appallingly big Norweigian Fur, decked out in red and green in the first one, the second showed Shen Yuan on a beach, wrapped up in a coat, and cooing into a rockpool, and the third and fourth were shots of Luo Binghe. 

Liu Qingge skipped those photos but came back to the first two. 

Shen Yuan looked so happy, his cheeks flushed, and he smiled into the camera in a way he’d never looked at Liu Qingge. He swallowed back those thoughts with the strange thickness in his throat and typed out a reply.

Liu Qingge had never typed a reply so fast in his life.

What the hell was he doing?

Liu Qingge didn’t even like doing things like that, let alone have anyone to spend this romantic holiday with!

He and Mingyan had spent time in an international school in England when they were younger, which is where Mingyan had picked up an all-consuming love for the Western holiday. But this was China! And in China, Christmas was for couples.

Liu Qingge didn’t want to tour around Beijing on a couples holiday and take photos alone, but he was going to have to at this point. Why hadn’t he just admitted the sad truth? That he’d already taken the time off, so was probably going to spend his days boxing in his basement, and his nights drinking expensive whiskey. 

It was exactly what Shen Yuan had thought he was going to do!

(Liu Qingge knew exactly why he’d lied.)

In his glum musing, Liu Qingge didn’t notice someone slide onto the stool next to him until a low and horribly familiar voice called out for the bar staff. Liu Qingge’s scarf and coat were being held hostage, the two items in the lap of his unwanted companion.

“So, it’s not only on Saturdays, then?”

Steeling himself, Liu Qinge turned woodenly to face the flushed and far too close face of the crazy man from earlier, this time sans the many layers of wool. 

“I’m just having a quiet drink.”

Liu Qingge really didn’t want to get banned from this place. Fighting was a tried and tested way of getting banned from bars, and although other places sold Toki, this one was the closest to his apartment, and people didn’t usually bother him here. 

“Oh perfect, that's exactly what I had in mind!” He extended a large hand, “I realized I never introduced myself earlier, I go by Tianlang Jun.”

Taking the hand with the trepidation of someone who’d just been handed a large snake, Liu Qingge shook it once and resigned himself to a less-than-quiet evening with Tianlang Jun.

Tianlang Jun was kind enough to buy him another drink, which put him higher in Liu Qingge’s estimations, but the man was fidgeting in a way that he’d learned to mean he was going to say something.

“Tell me, why’s a man like you in a bar, alone, on a Friday night?” Tianlang Jun took a long drink of very fine Japanese whiskey, and gave Liu Qingge a sharp smile.

“I took time off work until January.” Liu Qingge supplied.

Tianlang Jun seemed oddly surprised at the statement, and that same strangely pleased expression came over him.

“You took the time off for Christmas? Do you have some nice guy or girl waiting at home for you? Ready to hand you a steaming mug of eggnog and a freshly baked cookie?”

Liu Qingge snorted, “No. My sister and I were going to celebrate, but she can’t get here anymore because of the, you know.” He waved his hand dismissively in the direction of the floor-to-ceiling windows in the corner of the bar.

Tianlang Jun gave the darkness outside a look cold enough to give the snow a run for its money.

“Yes. I was meant to go home and spend some apparently much-needed quality holiday time with my son. Recently reconnected. Dead wife. A classic literary trope, you know?”

Liu Qingge very much didn’t know, but he also felt it would be much easier to simply agree.

Oh god, was he supposed to admit something personal about himself now?

Before the silence had dragged on for too long (not that Tianlang Jun looked uncomfortable in the slightest), Liu Qingge blurted, “My sister and I spent a few years in England. We have a thing where we try to do as many Chinese and Western Christmas traditions as possible until the 26th, we’ve done it since our parents died.”

Why the fuck did he say that?

Tianlang Jun blinked at him for two seconds, before bursting into throaty laughter, and not managing to stop until he was blinking back tears.

Completely unsure of what to do, Liu Qingge resolutely avoided eye contact and set himself the task of drinking his whiskey as quickly as politely possible.

Tianlang Jun leaned over the bar, “Touche. You’ve spent time in the UK? Makes sense. No one makes dark jokes like the British. I like you, Qing-er.”

Liu Qingge didn’t know what to say in reply to that, so he finished his second glass of whiskey.

With a thoughtful sound, Tianlang Jun waved the bar staff back over and got them another drink each before Liu Qingge could properly protest, despite the older man having half his glass left.

Now, Liu Qingge wasn’t a lightweight, despite what Shen Yuan might say. He simply didn’t drink often enough to have developed much of a tolerance. Two doubles in, and he was feeling pleasantly warm in a way that had nothing to do with the temperature of the bar.

“So,” Tianlang Jun slid the glass in front of Liu Qingge, “You have all these Christmas activities planned and no one to do them with? And I’m stuck, alone, in Beijing over Christmas with nothing better to do.”

“Seems that way.” Liu Qingge acknowledged.

Tianlang Jun leaned a little closer toward him, and Liu Qingge felt his temperature jump out of his usual comfort level.

“I’d say there is an obvious solution here.” Tianlang Jun said with all the confidence of a man about to step off a hidden drop, “You and I should spend the Festive season together! We’ll make a schedule. ”

Liu Qingge didn’t like the way he said schedule.  

But.

This would solve the Shen Yuan problem. 

Liu Qingge stared into Tianlang Jun’s face, scrutinizing him. To his credit, the man sat there and allowed it. If anything, he seemed to preen a little.

He was adequately handsome. Irritatingly so, in fact. He was so stupidly handsome that it made Liu Qinge not want to look at his stupid face because it made his stomach squirm. It was nauseating .

“Fine”, Liu Qingge ground out, “But there is a list of essential activities.”

Tianlang Jun straightened and began radiating enough eagerness that Liu Qingge wasn’t convinced the man hadn’t been replaced with an overly friendly Poodle.

“First,” Liu Qingge held up a finger, “We need to go to see a Christmas Village. Then go Ice Skating, decorate a tree, and on Christmas Eve we will exchange Christmas Apples. We will also take photos of everything.”

Tianlang Jun appeared to be searching his coat pockets for something, eventually producing a well-worn notepad and pen, and began scribbling down Liu Qingge’s demands. He didn’t even complain that Liu Qingge was overtly direct (like Shen Yuan), or worse, that he spoke like he was settling out a battle plan (Luo Binghe).

“Village, Skating, Tree, Apples.” Tianlang Jun muttered, “Got it. Can I counter with carols, a walk in the snow with hot chocolate, and baking cookies?”

After a moment of serious thought, Liu Qingge nodded, “Those terms seem reasonable. We’ll meet tomorrow at 9:00 am outside the Penninsula Beijing. I’ll plan the day.”

“You remember my hotel? Oh, Qing-er, you best be careful not to make a man get the wrong idea.”

Liu Qingge’s face flamed, and he pushed the stool back with an uncomfortably loud screeching sound. 

What was he saying? Was he once again trying to get a rise out of Liu Qingge? Well. He knew exactly how to deal with people like this. You ignore them.

The bar went silent for a second, and Liu Qingge forced his indignation down to the pit of his stomach. 

“My coat and scarf.” He hissed.

Tianlang Jun seemed infuriatingly pleased with how much he’d managed to rile Liu Qingge up and offered the items with a wide grin.

Liu Qingge snatched his stuff, sent Tianlang Jun a glare that only seemed to encourage him, and marched off. 

“9:00 am! I’ll be there!” Tianlang Jun yelled.

Liu Qingge didn’t turn around.

..❅*. *❅.❆ ❅*. ❆. *❆..

Tianlang Jun was late.

It was 9:07, and the bright winter sun had managed to make its way through the patchy snow clouds to shine directly into Liu Qingge’s eyes. 

He wasn’t hungover, per se, but he did have a slight pounding behind his eyes that wasn’t being helped by the bright sunlight. It was the slight irritation that would’ve usually had Mingyan at his side with a surreptitious packet of painkillers, which he didn’t need because painkillers were for worse things than headaches.

No. The real reason for his headache was that in a fit of whiskey-fueled lunacy, Liu Qingge had agreed to spend the next three days doing Christmas traditions with the human incarnation of a smack of jellyfish. 

Tianlang Jun may look pretty, and float around with that ridiculous confidence, but he had a tendency of getting too close and that was dangerous.

He was also clearly as slow-moving and brainless as the floating clumps of cells.

Liu Qingge glanced down at his watch, and then mentally recalculated which bus they were going to be able to catch to get to the Christmas Village in time. 

Mingyan usually dealt with the timings and logistics of these things, saying that it stressed Liu Qingge out, but that was ridiculous. He was perfectly capable of making and sticking to a schedule, problems occurred when other people didn’t.

They were going to have to shorten the time allocated to the Christmas Village, or they would be late to the reservation he’d made for lunch-

“Ah! Qing-er! There you are!”

Liu Qingge turned and sent a glacial look toward a quickly approaching Tianlang Jun. The streets weren’t quiet, but the man stood out like a sore thumb. It wasn’t his ridiculous height or his ridiculous face, but because he appeared to be once again wearing the wollen abominations he’d been sporting on the road the day before.

In the light, it became obvious that the items were homemade. They were all the same grey yarn, with the hat and gloves mostly passing as the items they were intended to be, but the jumper was heinous.

It seemed to do all the things a jumper wasn’t supposed to do. Somehow, it stretched across Tianlang Jun’s chest and waist but pooled baggily around his upper thighs, and there was a strange sort of black squiggle sewn into the front of it. A worm, perhaps? The sleeves were odd lengths, with one coming only halfway down Tianlang Jun’s forearm, and the other bunched up awkwardly in rolls from his thumb to his elbow. 

Liu Qingge was not a self-proclaimed fashion enthusiast, quite the opposite in fact, but even he could tell that this was a crime to all other functioning jumpers.

“You’re late.” Liu Qingge said, deciding he was not going to mention the jumper.

Tianlang Jun bounced up beside him, close enough that he almost barrelled straight into him. Liu Qingge took a step back.

“Ah, yes. I was doing research, you see! I spent the morning gathering all the leaflets available in the hotel foyer and scouring them for the most appropriate places to fulfill my end of the bargain. I left no stone unturned. I swear to you, I will treat you to the best Western festive activities Beijing has to offer!”

Tianlang Jun continued to talk as Liu Qingge worked his way toward the bus station. Irritatingly, he kept getting distracted by the storefronts, a few of which had miraculously opened despite the foot of white slush being kept out by their doorsteps. 

After the fifth time, Liu Qingge decided he was going to have to treat Tianlang Jun like the toddler he was embodying, and grabbed a handful of the man’s coat sleeve to forcibly drag him to the bus stop. He was going to make the next bus or SO HELP HIM.

Strangely, it seemed to work. Tianlang Jun’s endless commentary on Beijing’s festive decorations cut off abruptly, and he was trailing behind Liu Qingge obediently, arm slightly outstretched between them.

Noted. Liu Qingge thought.

They managed to somehow make the bus, which was thankfully running (something Liu Qingge hadn’t actually considered), and the pair both slumped down into a double set of seats in a pile of slightly too-warm knitwear, day tickets in hand.

Liu Qingge sighed, checked his watch, and unwound the scarf from his neck with obvious relief. 

Next to him, Tianlang Jun was clearly too large for the allocated seating. His legs were pressing up against the seat in front in a way that couldn’t be comfortable, but the idiot was smiling as widely as Liu Qingge had ever seen him.

Shuffling in a way that brought him further onto Liu Qingge’s seat, Tianlang Jun gave Liu Qingge an expectant look.

“So, am I allowed to know where we’re off to, or is this a fun little surprise?”

The bus pulled into the next stop, and a pair of young women walked down the aisle to get off, giggling and staring at Liu Qingge and Tianlang Jun. 

Liu Qingge resolutely ignored them, but Tianlang Jun seemed to sit up straighter and sent the two a sharp grin. He reached up and pulled off the wonky hat, sending those stupidly thick curls bouncing down his shoulders as he tossed his head a little.

The girls grabbed at each other and stumbled off the bus inelegantly. 

Liu Qingge felt the irritation of the morning come to a head.

“Do you mind?” He snapped, before getting ahold of himself. 

Really. That had not been an appropriate reaction.

And worse, If anything, Tianlang Jun just looked even more pleased, “Oh, Qing-er, don’t worry. I’m here with you. Anyway, with the looks they were giving you, I had to do something.”

“We’re going to the ‘Christmas Village’, it’s an event held in Joy City Mall this year.” Liu Qingge redirected and offered Tianlang Jun his phone, which had the page loaded up and ready.

Taking the phone, Tianlang Jun appeared to scroll through it for a while. Great. Seemed he could also be appeased with technology. Like a toddler.

A buzz from between them drew Tianlang Jun’s attention, and he relinquished Liu Qingge’s phone to wriggle a hand between them and get to the source of the buzzing. 

(There seemed to be an inexcusable number of times when Tianlang Jun’s hand was groping around on Liu Qingge’s thigh, but Liu Qingge wasn’t about to grab the man and fling him into the isle where there were so many Grandmas around.)

Finally seeming to locate his phone, Tianlang Jun busied himself tapping across the very shiny and new device with an undeservedly pleased look on his face. 

Grateful for a moment of silence, Liu Qingge turned to look out of the window and take note of the increasing number of Christmas trees the closer they got to the Chaoyang district. There was also a notable increase of people out on dates, people bundled up with shopping bags on their arms and uncomfortably adoring looks on their faces. 

By the time they reached the stop for Joy City Mall, Tianlang Jun had grown bored with his phone. He’d returned to explaining in excruciating detail the Chinese Christmas Traditions he’d learned about in the time he was supposed to be meeting Liu Qingge, and was especially interested in Christmas apples.

With a fist in Tianlang Jun’s coat sleeve once more, Liu Qingge dragged the other man off the bus and began to strong-arm him toward the appropriate part of the mall. Tianlang Jun was speaking the entire time.

“So, it’s a red apple wrapped in clear and gold cellophane?”

“Hm.”

“And it's because of some wordplay about the Mandarin for Christmas Eve and the Mandarin for apples?”

“Hm.”

“So, when you eat the apple I give you, it will give you peace and safety throughout the year?”

From the moment you leave. Yes.

Liu Qingge didn’t say that, he simply said, “Hm.”

They finally reached their destination, and Liu Qingge was nearly assaulted by a wall of Christmas music and crowds. 

Oh god. It was Saturday. There would be crowds.

This was, once again, something Liu Qingge hadn’t considered when making his carefully curated schedule. 

He hadn’t noticed that he’d frozen up until he felt a gloved hand gently curl around his own.

Jolting, Liu Qingge jerked his head up to see Tianlang Jun smiling at him softly.

“Hang on, I spot a quieter place.”

Without warning, Tianlang Jun reversed their previous positions and began to carefully pull Liu Qingge through the heaving throng of people.

Somehow, he was managing to avoid bumping into the groups of frazzled parents and couples posing for selfies, and more than that, he was avoiding letting Liu Qingge bump into anyone either.

Tianlang Jun spun them around a group of teenage girls, using Liu Qingge’s hand as leverage.

If he was pulled too far one way, Tianlang Jun would give him a gentle tug, and to Liu Qingge’s horror, he’d end up doing some sort of graceful spin on one foot, before being pulled back towards Tianlang Jun.

Furious, Liu Qingge opened his mouth and caught Tianlang Jun’s eye, but was met with that odd soft expression, and low, quiet laughter.

Liu Qingge wasn’t a bully. He wasn’t about to scold the man when he was clearly having fun pulling Liu Qingge around.

Halfway through the crowd, Liu Qingge saw a small child step out into the space Tianlang Jun was already half occupying, and he acted without thinking. 

With a slightly forceful yank, he pulled Tianlang Jun away from the child by the hand and stepped back into the open space behind him. 

For the first time since their inopportune meeting, Tianlang Jun looked faintly shocked.

Liu Qingge was deeply satisfied.

He’d been constantly on the back foot, reacting not acting, and for the first time, Liu Qingge felt less like he was caught up in a typhoon and more like he was manning a one-man boat through the wind.

With a bit of footwork that was more suited to a boxing match than a dance (it was effective so whatever), Liu Qingge began a careful push and pull with Tianlang Jun through the crowds. 

When Tianlang Jun nearly ended up tripping over a stroller and was forcefully yanked and spun in the opposite direction, Liu Qingge couldn't help it, he laughed.

At the sound, Tianlang Jun’s eyes zeroed in on Liu Qingge’s face, who wasn’t quite fast enough to wipe the expression away. 

If anything, Tianlang Jun seemed to become even more clumsy, and by the time the two reached the blessedly empty spot beside the twenty-foot tree, both of them were slightly breathless with the force of their laughter.

Tianlang Jun was a little flushed, and smiling broadly with his stupidly perfect teeth. It made that uncomfortable squirming feeling come back to Liu Qingge’s stomach, and he dropped their hands.

Thankfully, Tianlang Jun didn’t seem offended. Instead, he reached across and pulled Liu Qingge into the shoulder of his awful jumper.

Startled, he glanced up into Tianlang Jun’s too-close face, and if Liu Qingge had felt flushed earlier, it was nothing on the sheer heat radiating from his face at the realization that Tianlang Jun smelt good.

“We agreed to document everything, right? Say cheese, Qing-er”

Liu Qingge finally noted Tianlang Jun’s shiny phone being held in front of their faces, the two of them shown flushed in high-definition on the display, backed by the rich green of the tree. Before Liu Qingge could protest, Tianlang Jun had taken no fewer than ten photos with the speed shutter feature.

In fact, Liu Qingge was quite certain that the speed-shutter feature had captured the moment he’d reached up with a gloved hand and shoved Tianlang Jun’s face away from being squished tightly against his own.

Finally released, Liu Qingge took a step back and made an effort to push his shoulders back and look appropriately affronted at Tianlang Jun’s frankly shameless behavior.

Desperate to redirect, Liu Qingge jerked his head towards the indoor Christmas maze he’d initially been planning on taking Mingyan to, and managed a slightly throaty, “Let’s go.”

Tianlang Jun nodded seriously at the maze, “Yes. A worthwhile endeavor.”

Thankfully without holding hands this time, the pair made their way towards a gap in the small white picket fence. The entire fencing was barely waist-high and clearly made for children, but inflatable candy canes and foam sheets of snow had been draped across a sizeable area. 

Slightly tinny Western Christmas songs played from some unseen speaker, and the trail they were taking was rather twistier, turneir, and longer than Liu Qingge had been expecting. 

Tianlang Jun was taking everything in his stride and seemed deeply invested in capturing every plastic ornament in stasis with his phone camera. Unfortunately, he’d managed to drag Liu Qingge into the frame more than once, who’d ultimately let him after a few token protests.

At the heart of the grand testament to Western commercialism, stood the centerpiece. A towering, eight-foot Santa Claus, with his trademark piece of equipment.

“There.” Liu Qingge declared seriously, “This is the pinnacle of commercialized Chinese Christmas. Santa Claus, with his trademark saxophone.”

Tianlang Jun seemed floored, his jaw working but no sound coming out.

Eventually, he managed to find his voice.

“And what is the undoubtedly interesting and deeply traditional reason behind Saint Nicholas’s trademark saxophone?”

“Well. Western Instrument. Western Santa. It’s portable, so Santa can bring Christmas music everywhere. And together, that is enough reason for the mass production of Chinese Santa for most people.” 

Tianlang Jun took a moment to burn the image of Santa with his golden sax into his retinas, before turning to Liu Qingge with sparkling eyes.

 “Fascinating.”

After they’d managed to navigate their way out of the maze (which took longer than Liu Qingge was willing to admit), he glanced at his watch and realized they’d seemed to make up some of the lost time. 

They had a reservation for lunch, and it looked like they wouldn’t even be late.

Liu Qingge relaxed slightly, before drawing himself to his full height and eyeing the crowds barring the way they’d come. It was somehow even busier than before, like a hellish pen full of people all trying to go in different directions.

Stepping in front of Liu Qingge’s gaze, Tianlang Jun took a moment to survey the hubris, before leveling him a serious look.

“I admire your bravery, Qing-er, to face that head-on, but would you consider an alternative approach?”

Liu Qingge snorted, “Well, I’m not staying here if that’s what you’re thinking.”

“Oh never, as much fun as it would be to shove our way through that tin of sardines, I would suggest we go through the backdoor.”

Tianlang Jun’s voice had dropped to that strange, gravelly tone he’d been using the night before. 

Poor man, perhaps he’d previously been a smoker? 

When the contents of Tianlang Jun’s words dawned on Liu Qingge, he turned around and found the West doors for the Mall right behind him.

Well, that was convenient. 

“Excellent. The restaurant isn’t far.” Liu Qingge declared and strode towards the doors, leaving Tianlang Jun to make his own way.

“No reaction? You’re a tough nut to crack, Qing-er! Maybe I can work something in about mistletoe, or is that too on the nose?”

..❅*. *❅.❆ ❅*. ❆. *❆..

From then on, it seemed Tianlang Jun had got the message about timeliness. 

That, or he was just ridiculously excited to drag Liu Qingge from place to place by the hand. Which was not necessary when there were no crowds, but Liu Qingge had learned that complaining made him do it more, and had decided to pick his battles.

The lunch had been where he and Mingyan usually went when they were doing this part of their Christmas traditions, which Liu Qingge had stupidly blurted out when Tianlang Jun looked confused at having hotpot as their festive lunch. 

It had been the wrong thing to say.

For whatever reason, it seemed to encourage the already incorrigible man into taking even more photos, and devolved into a heated chopstick battle over the cooked meat and tofu. There had been no clear victor, to Liu Qingge's disappointment, as Tianlang Jun seemed to be just as fast with the utensils as him (if not more so, but it had been a draw).

Afterward, Liu Qingge pulled Tianlang Jun onto another bus and felt a small thrill of satisfaction at the awed expression on his face when he stepped off and was faced with the majesty of Shichahai Lake. 

The top of the lake had completely frozen over, and it had started to gently snow again, which covered up the slushy grey snow of the day nicely. It was mid-afternoon, and the light had faded just enough to make the lights and shop windows seem especially festive.

Quite a few people were milling around, walking along the paved edge of the lake, and pausing on the traditional bridges to take photos and enjoy the atmosphere. 

Tianlang Jun hadn’t flagged one bit and was nearly running from place to place to take photos and make inane comments. Liu Qingge would usually be feeling the strain of so many people and activities and general Christmas stuff, but it was oddly tolerable to watch the other man run around and simply trail after him.

Tianlang Jun seemed to be having the time of his life. By the time Liu Qingge had gently towed them towards the reason they were here, he thought Tianlang Jun may have the largest collection of photos of Liu Qingge in existence on his phone, all of them blackmail worthy. He didn't think he had stopped blushing since the mall and was resolutely chalking it down to the cold.

They turned a corner to a cordoned-off section of the lake, and Tianlang Jun’s eyes widened.

“When you said Ice Skating-” Tianlang Jun tried, “I thought you meant in a rink.”

Liu Qingge felt inordinately pleased, “I didn’t say anything about a rink.”

“No, you didn’t, did you?” Tianlang Jun reached out and grabbed Liu Qingge’s hand again, before dragging him over to a vendor renting out skates. He notably didn’t protest Liu Qingge paying again, but he supposed it was his day of planning.

After a short struggle to get the damn boots on comfortably, and an undignified waddle down to the edge of the lake, Liu Qingge stepped out onto the ice and gently tested the skates. 

He and Mingyan both had a pair at home in the storage closet but had very much not wanted to lug the heavy things around a mall and to lunch. Plus, these rental ones fit him well enough, even if they weren't good enough to do tricks with.

Liu Qingge skated forward a few feet, before shifting his weight and positioning and skating backward, and with a flourish, came to a stop in front of a bow-legged Tianlang Jun.

“Is now a good time to explain that I have never done this before?” Tianlang Jun offered, his smile not dimming in the slightest.

Oh.

Liu Qingge hadn’t skated with a beginner since his sister was a child, and Mingyan was now good enough to give Liu Qingge a run for his money. 

“It's fine. I can show you.” Liu Qingge decided, “Come out onto the ice.”

Tianlang Jun nodded, stepped out onto the ice with confidence, and his feet slid out from under him in a rather impressive fall.

On his back, legs sticking up at odd angles towards the sky, Tianlang Jun offered Liu Qingge a strained grin, before managing to get his knees under him and skidding around like a faun.

Liu Qingge fought back his laughter with the determination he usually used when boxing.

“Uh. If you just get up- No! Wait! You can’t have your feet like-”

In his flailing, Tianlang Jun had somehow managed to get over to Liu Qingge, and was climbing his slacks with a grip that was a true testament to Liu Qingge’s belt.

Liu Qingge wobbled and reached down to grab under Tianlang Jun’s armpits before the man could pull them both over onto the ice. Without waiting for permission, he planted his feet and lifted Tianlang Jun into the air, before gingerly settling him on his feet.

Without letting go (Liu Qingge had learned that lesson in the last two minutes), he shifted Tianlang Jun’s weight so he was leaning slightly forward, and moved so he was standing behind him.

Tianlang Jun had been pleasingly quiet during this whole interaction, and once behind him, Liu Qingge felt like he could finally shift his hold to Tianlang Jun’s upper arms. 

This is how he’d held Mingyan when she’d first come onto the ice, if he remembered right, and although there was a far more noticeable height difference, it seemed to work. 

When Tianlang Jun had worked out what to do with his feet to move forward, they could switch, and Liu Qingge would pull him along until they could be side by side.

“Is this how we’ll skate, Qing-er?” Tianlang Jun asked, facing ahead so Liu Qingge couldn’t see his face.

“Yes. Until I feel you’re stable.”

“Ok!” Tianlang Jun said cheerfully, and began an undignified shuffle towards a particularly scenic set of trees to their left. It seemed to be going okay, if not slightly slow, and Tianlang Jun appeared to be getting the hang of it. There were a few close calls, where Liu Qingge would quickly brace himself and catch the older man before he ended up on his back again, but they were making steady progress.

“Ok, now we switch.” Liu Qingge declared, skating around Tianlang Jun with a hand on him at all times, until he was in front and had Tianlang Jun’s hands on his upper arms.

“I’m always down to switch, Qing-er.” Tianlang Jun purred.

Well, obviously. That had been the plan from the start.

“Not so close. Tianlang Jun! You can move back!” Liu Qingge squawked.

Somehow, he’d managed to plaster himself front-to-back to Liu Qingge, with one skate between Liu Qingge’s legs, and the other to the left of him. Tianlang Jun hooked his chin over Liu Qingge’s shoulder and pressed their flushed cheeks together.

“What if I fall, Qing-er?”

Tianlang Jun was speaking directly into his ear, and it made Liu Qingge shiver.

“I-” Mortifyingly, Liu Qingge’s voice cracked, “I won’t let you fall.” 

He felt Tianlang Jun smile against his cheek, “Promises, promises, Qing-er.”

Miraculously, he moved back a little and rested his hands on the tops of Liu Qingge’s arms in mimicry of their earlier positioning.

“My, you have a lot of muscle! I bet you’re absolutely jacked underneath these layers, huh?” Tianlang Jun squeezed Liu Qingge’s biceps, and he flexed on instinct.

Liu Qingge kept his biceps flexed (it was easier for Tianlang Jun to hold on that way), and replied, “Well, I’m a boxing coach.”

“You are? How manly! You don’t seem like you lose often, I take it you’re coaching professionally?”

“Yeah. I coach professionally. Used to fight professionally too, but there’s too much red tape and bureaucracy. I fight in smaller competitions instead.”

Liu Qingge frowned, “Why don’t I seem like I lose?”

“Oh, you know.” Tianlang Jun took one hand off Liu Qingge’s shoulder to wave dismissively, wobbled, and ended up grabbing him fully around the chest.

“Oop, sorry, sorry.” Tianlang Jun didn’t sound very sorry, but he did straighten and return his hands to Liu Qingge’s arms, “You’re just especially pretty. You wouldn’t have those high cheekbones and delicate ears if you’d taken too many hits to the face.”

Pretty? 

Delicate? 

Liu Qingge hated that. Sure, he’d inherited more of his mother than his father, but he wasn’t delicate! He was exceptionally tough!

“I’m not delicate!”

“Oh, sore spot? Not that it takes away from the general manly-hot thing you have going on! If anything, it seems to complement it well. You’re a bundle of fun and interesting contradictions, you know? Makes me want to take you apart and see how you tick.”

Liu Qingge wasn’t entirely sure what to say in response to that, especially since the words had settled low in his stomach in a way that made him want to run away, but also, strangely, look and see what sort of expression Tianlang Jun was wearing.

He settled on skating a little faster, satisfying himself with the sharp intake of breath from behind him. 

They began to go faster and faster, till they were nearly skating at the speed Liu Qingge would go if he wasn’t towing another fully-grown man

The lake was big enough that Liu Qingge was able to skate them to a quieter area, before bracing his legs, and beginning to skate as fast as he could.

He was waiting for Tianlang Jun to admit defeat, to tell him to slow down, and perhaps marvel at how fast of a skater he was, but he didn't.

In fact, at Liu Qingge's top speed, he heard a loud whoop from behind him, and in surprise, jerked a look behind him to see what his passenger was doing.

Tianlang Jun’s head was thrown back, eyes sparkling and almost closed, his smile near blinding as he laughed. The long curls were whipping around him in the wind like a halo, and he was so ridiculously handsome that Liu Qingge couldn’t bring himself to look away.

They slowly began to lose speed, until Tianlang Jun’s hair settled, and he managed to open his eyes without the stinging wind, which met Liu Qingge’s. 

“You’re pretty too.” Liu Qingge blurted without thinking.

Tianlang Jun’s face broke out into a delighted smile, and it was absolutely, far too much for Liu Qingge to deal with. 

He whipped his head back to face ahead and hoped Tianlang Jun hadn’t noticed the redness in his ears.

“Let's head back.” Liu Qingge said into the space ahead of him.

“Oh.” Tianlang Jun sounded strangely disappointed, “Ok, yeah. I did promise I’d call my editor tonight, anyway.”

Latching onto the topic like a lifeline to a drowning man, Liu Qingge asked, “Oh? Do you write?”

“Oh, yes! I’m a semi-respectable author! Well, my stuff sells like hotcakes, but I don’t know if you could call it respectable.”

“Why not?”

“Well, I solely write queer erotica. So although I’m making more money than Jaqueline Wilson in her Tracey Beaker era, I’m not being invited to open any libraries, if you know what I mean.”

Liu Qingge nearly choked on the cold air and was inordinately grateful that his face was out of view as he skated them back toward the ice skate vendor.

“Are you working on something?”

Why did he ask that? He didn’t want details of the erotica Tianlang Jun was writing! He didn’t even like porn! And he hadn’t tried erotica, but he was fairly certain he wouldn’t like that either! 

He was resolutely ignoring the fact that his brain was now trying to feed him images of Tianlang Jun writing porn, and the fact that he oddly wanted to read it?

“Well, I’ve had an idea recently, and I wanted to run it by my editor. It's a little different to what I normally do, so I’ve got to convince the guy that it's going to be good, and more importantly, sell a fuck tonne of copies.”

Liu Qinnge tried to decide on a safe answer, and ended up going with, “Good luck.”

“Oh! Thank you.” 

Tianlang Jun was quiet for a moment, “For today, too.”

Liu Qingge didn’t feel like he had done anything worth thanks, they were both helping each other out after all, and he’d enjoyed it a peculiar amount.

“I had fun.” Liu Qingge said, ignoring the lame and stupidly soft way the words came out of him.

They reached the lake's edge, and Tianlang Jun carefully peeled his hands away from Liu Qingge’s arms. He was going to have bruises there tomorrow.

It was swiftly getting dark, and the ice skate vendor was rather keen to close up shop and make his way home with the last of the crowds.

Before he’d processed it, Liu Qingge was standing with Tianlang Jun outside the Penninsula Beijing.

The weather had briefly let up, but it wasn’t looking like they were going to be without the stupid frozen rain for the foreseeable future. Frustratingly, it seemed Mingyan had been right when she’d spoken about a white Christmas.

“Well.” Tianlang Jun had his hands behind his back, but Liu Qingge could see the way he was fidgeting in his shadow, “I know it’s not convincing with what I’m about to say, but I really would invite you up with me if I didn’t have this call.”

Liu Qingge looked at his watch. It was coming a little too close to the time he’d usually do his evening meditation, and he hadn’t had dinner.

“I will see you tomorrow? For your day of Western traditions?”

Tianlang Jun perked up, “Yes! Same place and time?”

“Ok."

Tianlang Jun was quiet for a moment, and took a step forwards, staring down into Liu Qingge’s eyes. 

“Can we..?” Tianlang Jun asked, his eyes flicking down to Liu Qingge’s mouth and back up.

The moment stretched out for a long time. Their breaths fogged the air between them, and it seemed Tianlang Jun was waiting for him to answer before making a move.

“Tomorrow, perhaps.” Liu Qingge replied and turned to leave before Tianlang Jun could get another word in.

“Yes! Absolutely!” Tianlang Jun called out after him, “You won’t regret it! I’m rather skilled!”

Liu Qingge shook his head.

It seemed they really couldn't go a full day without Tianlang Jun trying to goad him into a fight.

Because that was what he was after, right? 

He couldn't actually mean the other thing.

..❅*. *❅.❆ ❅*. ❆. *❆..

Liu Qingge shifted in his chair, feeling quite shockingly underdressed.

When he’d said Tianlang Jun could plan today’s activities, he hadn’t expected the man to make a reservation in one of the most expensive restaurants in Beijing.

Diaoyutai State Guest Restaurant had originally been a place that only served visiting dignitaries for god's sake, Liu Qingge didn’t even know the restaurant did hot chocolate! And on Christmas Eve!

They were in a ridiculously spacious private room, surrounded by dark wood and with a goddamn chandelier dangling above them.

Tianlang Jun, for his part, seemed at ease in the decadent surroundings. Unlike Liu Qingge, who’d foolishly decided that slacks and his second-best dress shirt would be fine (his best was in the wash), Tianlang Jun was in a tailored, charcoal-grey suit.

Now, Liu Qingge knew there was no way the man could’ve warned him about the dress code, but thank the gods that he’d decided to go out looking nice. He wouldn’t have even made it through the door if Tianlang Jun hadn’t stepped in first, a business card in hand, and pulled a numb Liu Qingge through the mostly empty rooms filled with white tablecloths and covered chairs.

Now, with a hot chocolate and marshmallows that hadn’t been on the menu in front of them both, Tianlang Jun leaned in and sent Liu Qingge a look that made his brain reboot.

“If this isn’t the best hot chocolate you’ve ever had, I will personally eat my waistcoat. And I really don’t want to have to do that, it's Prada.” Tianlang Jun said seriously.

Liu Qingge eyed the waistcoat and decided it was probably impossible for Tianlang Jun to go through with his promise.

Taking the porcelain mug by its handle, and under close scrutiny, Liu Qingge brought the cup to his mouth, took a large gulp, and set it down.

“Well?” Tianlang Jun demanded.

Liu Qingge swallowed and met the expectant gaze in front of him.

“It's the best hot chocolate I’ve ever had.” He said evenly.

Tianlang Jun relaxed, smiled, reached for the cup in front of him, and took an equally hearty gulp.

His eyes closed happily, “OK. It’s good enough then.”

Liu Qingge fished around for a topic of conversation. He estimated they had about fifteen more minutes of drinking hot chocolate in a place where he absolutely couldn’t even afford a napkin before he’d be safe. 

His only task was to make sure he didn’t spill hot chocolate on that tauntingly white tablecloth. Whoever designed the interior decor for this place had never eaten a single thing in their life, he decided resolutely.

“Why are you in Beijing?” Liu Qingge asked, taking a very cautious sip.

Tianlang Jun set the cup down, and it was a moment before he answered.

“My wife was from here. I usually come back on the anniversary of her death to visit her grave.”

BAD QUESTION. 

Liu Qingge was absolutely horrendous at talking about difficult things. He always said the wrong thing, no matter how hard he tried. It either came across as insincere, or careless, or overtly coarse, and he’d learned to just avoid anything remotely difficult with space or an awkward hand on their shoulder.

“I’m sorry.” Liu Qingge tried to buy himself some time.

Tianlang Jun seemed to find Liu Qingge’s discomfort amusing if the faint smile on his lips was anything to go by.

“She died a long time ago now. When my son was born, so two decades ago. We’d split up over something ridiculous a year into the marriage, and she came back here when she found out she was pregnant. I didn’t know about her death or my son until a few years ago. I’ve been coming back ever since.”

Liu Qingge was floundering. 

“You were married for fifteen years without speaking to her?”

Tianlang Jun winced, “Yes. Well. I thought she hated me, you see. I came over here so many times to try and find her, but her parents turned me away every time. They returned all my letters unopened. I only found out through a writing friend of mine who knew the family.”

“I hated her too. I thought she’d trapped me in a marriage, and wouldn’t sign the divorce papers.” A twisted smile crossed Tianlang Jun’s face.

It was quiet again.

“Anyone would resent being trapped.” Liu Qingge finally settled on, “It seems like her parents are the ones in the wrong here. You did your best.”

Tianlang Jun swallowed another mouthful of hot chocolate, and Liu Qingge didn’t begrudge him the moment to compose himself.

“Anyway. That's why I’m here. For slightly longer than usual, this time, and not alone.” Tianlang Jun leaned forward, and a smile slightly closer to his usual one played across his lips, “Talking of! We have something very serious to talk about.”

Liu Qingge took another dutiful sip of hot chocolate, trying to figure out how that could segway into anything serious they may have to talk about.

“I booked the bakery down the road for us to bake cookies in, but it doesn’t take a genius to figure out that you don’t like it here, so I’m guessing you’re not going to like a fancy bakery either.” Tianlang Jun pulled out his phone, and placed it on the table in front of him, “Do you have a working kitchen?”

“I do have a working kitchen.” Liu Qingge answered slowly.

“Do you have baking trays? We can get the ingredients on the way.”

Thinking about the pile of laundry in the hallway that he’d been meaning to shove into the laundry room, and his unmade bed, Liu Qingge internally debated whether it would be more painful to have Tianlang Jun in his apartment or to spend the afternoon in a fancy bakery.

“I have baking trays.” He relented, “And most of the stuff for cookies. I think.”

He’d never made cookies before, but how hard could it be? He’d won titles! He’d coached no fewer than three internationally titled boxers! 

He could make cookies.

..❅*. *❅.❆ ❅*. ❆. *❆..

Neither Tianlang Jun nor Liu Qingge could make cookies.

For some, inexplicable reason, the cookies were coming out a lot puffier than either of them intended. Liu Qingge had a sneaking suspicion it was mostly due to the self-raising nature of the flour Tianlang Jun had shoved in their trolley (where the bag proceeded to squish the seven packages of sprinkles the man had insisted were also essential). 

Don’t even get Liu Qingge started on the near tantrum the man had almost thrown in the middle of the store because he insisted the gingerbread man cookie cutter was necessary and Liu Qingge’s existing round cutters were absolutely not up to scratch.

This was their second batch of cookies, which had come out of the oven with a similar, cakey texture, and made the arms and legs of the gingerbread men fuse into a sort of eldrich abomination. 

At least they hadn’t burned the second batch.

Whilst the usable batch cooled, Tianlang Jun insisted on spreading out the seven packs of sprinkles into separate bowls to cover Liu Qingge’s countertop.

Luckily, neither of them had enough patience to make their icing and had bought the bagged stuff from the supermarket. 

Whilst Liu Qingge pretended he hadn’t burnt his fingers on the still too-hot tray, Tianlang Jun finished up his very carefully curated sprinkle selection and pulled his phone out of his pocket to choose the next Christmas song.

It hadn’t taken long for Liu Qingge to explain the concept of a Spotify Jam, and Tianlang Jun seemed to be having no trouble flooding their shared playlist with the very worst Christmas songs Liu Qingge had ever heard. 

The current one seemed to be some awful Christmas Medley, where they mashed up every Christmas song known to man and put it all into twelve minutes of pure torture. Lu Qingge now knew the soundtrack that played through the speakers for the unfortunate souls stuck in hell.

He decided 12-minute Christmas Medleys were no longer allowed in his home.

With a dark look, Liu Qingge pulled his own phone from his (lightly flour-dusted) slacks, and viciously jabbed the ‘skip’ button.

He resolutely ignored the sad look Tianlang Jun sent him, shoved a cookie in front of the older man, and picked one of the fluffy gingerbread men for his own use.

There was about five minutes of silence, only broken by Tianlang Jun’s occasional quiet singing, before Liu Qingge was interrupted by a pleased noise.

“Look.” Tianlang Jun declared, “It’s me.”

Liu Qingge glanced over at the carefully iced gingerbread man on the table.

It was pretty well iced, to Liu Qingge’s irritation, well enough that he had no trouble identifying the grey dress covering most of the gingerbread as the horrendous knitted sweater Tianlang Jun had been sporting the day before.

The cookie had two brown smarties for its eyes and a wide red line for its mouth. There even seemed to be cola laces waving around its head instead of hair.

Liu Qingge looked back at his own cookie in time to see a jelly bean slide sadly off its chest and come to a sluggish stop beneath an armpit.

“Hmph.” He grumbled, “It has your eyes.”

“Doesn’t it.” Tianlang Jun nodded sagely. “I also feel I really captured the spirit of the sweater.”

Liu Qingge gave a closer look at the thick lines of grey icing, broken only by the tiny worm of icing on the chest, “It does look near identical”.

Chest puffed out, Tianlang Jun nodded, “My nephew made it for me. It’s his first jumper, you know. He said there was no one else he wanted to make one for.”

Now Liu Qingge just felt bad. This jumper was made by a child? In that case, it was rather good. The patience it must have taken to sit there for hours and knit a gift for his uncle. 

“I take it you’re close?” 

“I raised him!” Tianlang Jun declared, his voice proud and a little too loud for Liu Qingge’s apartment, “When my little sister had him she was too young to look after him, and I was eighteen and a legal adult, so it made sense he’d stay with me.”

Liu Qingge blinked. He’d done the same thing for Mingyan at eighteen when their parents had passed. 

But Tianlang Jun was older, so this kid must’ve been a legal adult himself by now.

Liu Qingge stared down at the jumper abomination and decided he was well within his rights to judge.

Unfortunately, Tianlang Jun didn’t seem done, and he pulled another, perfectly decorated cookie from some pocket dimension and shoved it under Liu Qingge’s nose.

“Look. This is him.”

This time, the cookie seemed to have a very long, green scarf wrapped loosely around it. A scarf with eyes, and a red forked tongue.

“He’s a bit of a snake enthusiast.” Tianlang Jun looked a little bemused, “I think it came from his biological father, he was an unusual fellow.”

“I see.” Liu Qingge said faintly, and his eyes widened further as a third and final cookie blinked into existence in front of his eyes.

This cookie was dressed smartly, in a white shirt and grey slacks. It had a faintly grumpy expression on its face, and its hair up in a familiar ponytail. 

The little mole beneath its eye sealed the deal.

“It’s you!” Tianlang Jun seemed inordinately pleased, “I think this is my best work. I truly captured your essence, you know?”

Liu Qingge wasn’t equipped for this. This was not a situation he was prepared for.

Tianlang Jun, with his little trio of cookies, carefully arranged them on the table so that Cookie-Qingge and Cookie-Jun were touching each other’s swollen hands, with his nephew a few centimeters from Cookie-Jun’s other side.

Liu Qingge needed to do something. Something so he didn’t end up doing something absolutely stupid like grabbing Tianlang Jun by the collar of his stupidly smart, flour-coated suit and pressing their mouths-

“Here.” Liu Qingge thrust his sad, icing-soaked gingerbread man at Tianlang Jun with far more force than was necessary.

It looked even uglier in Tianlang Jun’s hands. None of the jellybeans had stayed in place, and the lopsided smarties used for eyes seemed to stare pleadingly up at Tianlang Jun for him to put it out of its misery.

“I’ve never tried to decorate cookies before.” Liu Qingge grumbled, eyes fixed on the sad thing in Tianlang Jun’s hands as if his honesty would excuse the thing he created.

Tianlang Jun didn’t laugh, in fact, he gave the cookie an astonished look.

“I can’t give a gift as good as your first-ever cookie.” he said solemnly, “But if you will accept Cookie-me, I’m all yours.”

Cookie-Jun was plucked from his place in between the other two cookies and held out to Liu Qingge gingerly.

Both men carefully cradled gingerbread men of varying quality in their hands, Slade playing in the background, looking equally unsure of what to do with the things.

(Liu Qingge reunited Cookie-Jun with Cookie-Qingge and Cookie-Nephew as soon as Tianlang Jun had gone to the bathroom. At the same time, he’d placed Cookie-Quasimodo as far over the edge of the racking as he could without it falling off. The rest was up to fate.)

..❅*. *❅.❆ ❅*. ❆. *❆..

Tianlang Jun and Liu Qingge stood in the lounge and surveyed their next challenge.

Baking the cookies had taken longer than he’d thought, and Liu Qingge was aware of the day  creeping ever closer to a time when it would be rude for him not to offer Tianlang Jun some sort of dinner.

Having commandeered the speaker for the greater good, Liu Qingge put on a playlist he desperately hoped had some decent carols. It did say ‘Traditional Christmas Carols’ on the front, but with nearly two hours of Traditional Christmas Carols queued, he wondered just how many they would actually know.

The lack of terrible Christmas songs from the last century seemed to shift the mood slightly, enough for even Liu Qingge to notice. Perhaps he’d been too presumptuous. Caroling had been Tianlang Jun’s suggestion, after all.

“Shall we start?” He tried, gesturing at the unassembled tree, and Tianlang Jun seemed to jolt out of wherever he’d been in his head.

“Oh, yes!” Tianlang Jun crouched over the tree, gave it an assessing look, and picked up the well-used base and lowest piece.

Liu Qingge had a brief moment where he wondered how it looked to Tianlang Jun. A man who seemed to be able to rent out a room in the Diaoyutai State Guest Restaurant, and was staying in the famed Penninsula Beijing. 

The tree had been the one Liu Qingge had bought for himself and Mingyan the first Christmas when it was just them. It had been taking a long time to sort out the Will, and Liu Qingge had taken a career break to take care of Mingyan (he didn’t regret it one bit), so money had been nearly non-existent. 

Liu Qingge had sold some of his training equipment and managed to get enough to keep them afloat for a few months, but he hadn’t considered Christmas. Liu Qingge had been determined to celebrate the season for his sister and had pulled together enough money to buy this tree, a pack of awful plastic baubles, and a star.

They still had all the original baubles, but they’d had to replace the star one year, after it had fallen during de-decorating and lost one of its points. 

But the point was, this was their tree, and Liu Qingge didn’t want to have to defend it.

“So, should I put it together, or is that something you want to do?” Tianlang Jun asked, still crouched over the tree like it was an overly complex puzzle rather than a three-piece plastic tree.

Liu Qingge’s stomach did something uncomfortable, and he shoved it down.

“You can do that. I’ll look for the lights.” He said, making his way over to the box of decorations, and sorting through ten years of ornaments until he found the lights, wrapped around an old cereal box.

The strange feeling that had come with the carols hadn’t quite left, and Liu Qingge seriously considered changing the playlist back to the hellish one from earlier. Before he could, Tianlang Jun stood the plastic tree up and stepped back.

It rocked a few times on its base, before coming to a reverberating stop a few feet from where Liu Qingge usually set it up.

Begrudgingly, he had to admit that it might look better in its new spot.

How annoying.

“Lights first.” Liu Qingge grunted and thrust the bundle of wires into Tianlang Jun’s chest.

Tianlang Jun sent him an affronted look, “Obviously. I may not have decorated one of these for a while, but I’m not a savage.”

The strange tension had lessened slightly, thank the Gods, but Liu Qingge couldn’t quite get rid of the thrum of nervousness that seemed to have settled over him since they’d started the tree. Tianlang Jun was oddly quiet too, only making a few quips as they wrapped the lights from the bottom to the top. 

The plastic needles brushed against Liu Qingge’s hand, most of them now bent the wrong way from years of storage and use.

They made it to the top, and Liu Qingge couldn't look at Tianlang Jun as they switched the lights on. He was offset by a complex mix of sadness at being apart from his sister, and a strange nervousness at Tianglan Jun’s presence in his home. 

Tianlang Jun. Complete with his flour-dusted Prada suit, exceptional cookie decorating skills, strangely thoughtful gestures, and ridiculously handsome face.

Liu Qingge handed him a box of the nicer ornaments and busied himself at the lower branches with the baubles from their first year.

“You know, I don’t actually like Christmas.” Tianlang Jun said eventually.

Mouth agape, Liu Qinge nearly dropped the box of plastic baubles.

“I haven’t celebrated it for most of my adult life.” Tianlang Jun continued, “My nephew, Zhuzhi Lang, often spent it with his mother, so I just didn’t do anything.”

The tree was nearly finished, there were only a few of the original baubles left in Liu Qingge’s box, and Tianlang Jun seemed to have nearly come to the end of his wooden tray.

“I think this is the first time I’ve celebrated it in nearly two decades.” 

Tianlang Jun carefully hung one of Liu Qingge and Liu Mingyan’s glass ornaments on the higher branches and sent Liu Qingge an oddly helpless smile.

“And I suppose, like most of the things I used to like, it’s not so bad in good company.”

Liu Qingge couldn’t fully push the squirming in his stomach down, and it reached up into his throat, thickening and sitting there in a lump. 

It took a few heavy swallows to budge it, and Liu Qingge eventually stood up. Tianlang Jun had come to the end of his delicate ornaments and was looking at the tree with a complex expression.

“Here.” Liu Qingge said gruffly and thrust three of the original baubles into Tianlang Jun’s hands. 

They were a little scratched, the red paint gone in little jagged lines like silvery scars, but Tianlang Jun didn’t seem the slightest bit fazed. Instead, he set about trying to find three suitable branches for the last decorations. 

It seemed to be a very serious operation, and Liu Qingge had long finished his final placements by the time Tianlang Jun carefully hung the last of the cheap baubles on a branch that finally seemed to satisfy him. 

They stood back to survey the tree, and that strange nervousness that had abated earlier came back to Liu Qingge in full force. He couldn't even find his ever-present anger to smother it all and was left feeling oddly vulnerable as they sized up the tree.

“That right there,” Tianlang Jun declared, “Is the best Christmas tree I have ever seen.”

Liu Qingge wasn’t looking at the tree.

He was looking at Tianlang Jun.

Liu Qingge took a step forward, grabbed Tianlang Jun by the lapels of his stupid, flour-dusted Prada suit, and kissed him right on his stupid, nauseatingly handsome lips.

 ..❅*. *❅.❆ ❅*. ❆. *❆..

The kiss was fast, probably a little bit too firm, and Liu Qingge was still worried he’d get punched. But Tianlang Jun was still staring down at him with a slightly glazed expression a few moments later so he guessed he was alright.

Was he supposed to do it again? 

Should he just pull away?

Liu Qingge shifted, too warm and too close to Tianlang Jun, but a pair of hands shot up to grab his waist, and he was pressed against a warm body. 

Tianlang Jun’s mouth found his, and this time, gently pressed his lips to Liu Qingges a few times, rhythmically guiding him into another kiss.

A better kiss.

One of Tianlang Jun’s hands came up to cradle the back of his head, carefully turning it, and the angle was instantly leagues better. The fingers in the hair at his nape scratched him lightly, and Liu Qingge heard a strange, sort of whimpering sound. 

Oh god, that was him. He was the one making the strange whimpering sound, and it was too much to think about now because Tianlang Jun’s tongue was stroking his lower lip and sliding in alongside his own.

Was kissing supposed to be this good? It hadn’t appealed to Liu Qingge at all before, he liked everyone else’s saliva right where it was, thank you. 

But if this was why? Little firecrackers going off in his limbs, stomach twisting in a way that was somehow not awful, big hands gently pulling the shorter hairs out of his ponytail; Liu Qingge understood.

After a few softly retreating brushes of Tianlang Jun’s mouth, he pulled away, his breath ghosting across Liu Qingge’s cheeks in quick bursts.

Liu Qingge should really say something. But what did you say to someone who’d single-handedly changed your stance on kissing? To someone who was still looking down at you with a strange, searching look?

“Do-” Liu Qingge’s voice cracked. Great start. 

“Do you want dinner?”

Tianlang Jun blinked at him, a slow, amused smile spreading across his lips. Lips that were still kind of shiny, and Liu Qingge shut that thought process down fast .

“If I say yes, and drag the evening out even further, would you let me stay over?”

“If you say yes, we’re ordering something in because I don’t have any groceries.”

“Deal. Sushi? We can get seven different types of fish and call it The Feast of the Seven Fishes”

Liu Qingge wondered if that was a joke or a real thing, but wasn’t willing to admit he had no idea what Tianlang Jun was talking about.

Five minutes later, in the last safe refuge of his apartment (the bathroom), Liu Qingge leaned against the counter and googled ‘The Feast of the Seven Fishes’. He was immediately flooded with pages and pages of information on the religious Christmas Tradition.

After scanning one article, he felt he’d learned enough about some self-replicating fishes to ask Tianlang Jun if he usually celebrated the Feast of the Seven Fishes and not look ignorant.

He glanced up at his reflection. He looked the same as always, perhaps with slightly more hair coming out of his ponytail than usual, but no different after the whole ‘first kiss’ thing people always went on about. 

Now, no matter what anyone else said, Liu Qingge wasn’t completely clueless about what Tianlang Jun was proposing. Now he’d eliminated fighting, of course. 

He had been attracted to exactly two people in his life (one was standing in his lounge), and porn did nothing for him, but he knew about the logistics of the act.  

He wasn’t some sexless being like Shen Yuan seemed to think, it just hadn’t ever aligned that the person he was attracted to was also attracted to him back.

Liu Qingge took a breath, nodded resolutely at himself, and left his hiding place.

Tianlang Jun was sitting at his breakfast bar, phone in hand, with Cookie-Quasimodo staring balefully up at him from the center of the cooling rack. 

“Are you allergic to anything? Or have any sushi you don’t like?” Tianlang Jun asked, settling his phone down.

“No allergies. I’m not fussy.”

Tianlang Jun’s eyes glinted, “Excellent, I’ve already placed an order, so food will be here in twenty minutes.”

“What were you going to do if I was allergic?”

“Hadn’t thought that far. Order again?”

“Hmph.”

With a wicked smile, Tianlang Jun leaned in towards Liu Qingge, “We can do a lot in twenty minutes.”

Liu Qingge’s face flamed, completely unable to read the words as anything but innuendo anymore, and bit out, “Speak for yourself.”

“Qing-er, I was talking about exchanging Christmas Apples. What did you think I meant?” Tianlang Jun purred, eyes inordinately pleased.

Maybe he would punch Tianlang Jun after all.

“Stay here.” Liu Qingge grumbled, making his way to the entryway where he’d stashed the bag from Olé. Tianlang Jun had taken him to that stupid expensive restaurant, and almost certainly wasn’t getting his deposit back from that bakery, so getting him a nice Christmas Apple was the least he could do.

(Not that forking out 115 Yuan for a single apple hadn’t caused him physical pain in the Olé checkout line.)

It looked like a nice apple, as far as Liu Qingge’s Christmas Apple knowledge went. The lady at the counter had insisted that the one in gold cellophane was best, with the characters for Christmas Eve, ‘平安夜’, somehow printed directly onto the apple’s skin in a gold heart.

(it was safe to eat. He’d asked.)

There had been a thirty-second window where Liu Qingge tried to figure out if he could stomach giving Tianlang Jun an apple with a gold heart on it until the lady’s stare had started to feel like a brand against his forehead, and he’d relented.

Nothing to it. He decided. 

He was simply going to go out there, shove this expensive apple at Tianlang Jun’s irritating face, and open his own pre-packaged apple. 

Then they would eat sushi. 

Then they would-

Liu Qingge threw his shoulders back, grabbed a fistful of the gift bag, marched back into the living room, and thrust the package under Tianlang Jun’s nose.

Tianlang Jun looked positively delighted. 

“My first Christmas Apple!” He declared, fishing out the fruit and holding it aloft like a war prize. He turned the fruit a few times admiringly, seeming unwilling to pull the fruit from its shiny plastic casing.

After turning it a few more times, and gently stroking the characters in the golden heart, Tianlang Jun pulled a shiny gift bag from the stool beside him, got to his feet, and walked the few steps to Liu Qingge.

“And yours.” Tianlang Jun said, offering him the bag with a small smile, and nearly fled back to his stool when it was taken.

Suspicious, Liu Qingge observed his fidgeting with narrowed eyes, before finally relenting, and lifting a cellophane-wrapped apple from inside.

It seemed normal at first glance, To Liu Qingge’s relief, but upon closer inspection, he realized the pair of skates painted onto the apple were slightly too wonky to have passed quality control in any self-respecting supermarket. 

Gingerly, he turned the apple around, finding a series of imperfect snowflakes, a saxophone, a mug with something floating inside, a gingerbread man, and a Christmas Tree.

“Ah.” Tianlang Jun, true to character, broke the silence, “I couldn’t get the marshmallows just right, but the saxophone is a masterpiece! And I didn’t anticipate how much of a battle it was going to be to get you to agree to that damn Gingerbread cookie cutter, but it all worked out in the end!”

Liu Qingge loved his apple. 

Liu Qingge didn’t want to eat his apple. He wanted to keep his apple wrapped up in the cellophane in a box somewhere, where he could come back and look at it when this was all over and Tianlang Jun went back to America, and he wanted to remember what this felt like.

“Thank you.” Liu Qingge said instead, carefully placing the apple beside Tianlang Jun’s on the table, and pulling out his slightly-cracked phone.

As much as he’d promised Shen Yuan to take photos the last few days, he hadn’t. And this photo wasn’t for Shen Yuan, this one was for himself.

Now, Liu Qingge would be lying if he said he had a new phone. He would still be lying if he said his phone was less than five years old, and its camera quality seemed perpetually stuck in that awful year between 2014 and 2015. 

So it was blurry, but whatever. 

Tianlang Jun followed suit, albeit in a far more enthusiastic manner than Liu Qingge. The man was on his knees on the floor before Liu Qingge could process it, phone level with the counter as he took photos. 

It didn’t stop with the apples. Tianlang Jun insisted on taking photos of Cookie-Qingge, Cookie-Jun, and Cookie-Lang, as well as Cookie-Quasimodo (to Liu Qingge’s horror, before moving everything together on the counter and taking yet more photos.

Liu Qingge knew documenting their traditional activities was part of the deal, and enthusiastically beat down the disgustingly soft feeling in his chest at the sight. 

“Ok, now smile!”.

Without further warning, Tianlang Jun pulled Liu Qingge towards him with a whip-fast hand around his waist and beamed at his phone as seven hundred photos of Liu Qingge’s angry, then embarrassed, then resigned face were subsequently immortalized.

To his relief, the doorbell interrupted Tianlang Jun’s impromptu photoshoot, and soon the pair were sat on the floor in front of the Christmas tree, chopsticks in hand, and one huge, nearly-empty box of sushi in front of them.

With the Traditional Christmas Carols playlist looping for the second time, Liu Qingge looked at Tianlang Jun, the Christmas Tree, and the snow still falling in thick flurries onto his balcony. 

Quietly, he pulled his phone out, and took a photo of each thing, finishing with Tianlang Jun. 

Tianlang Jun sat cross-legged on the floor, a pair of chopsticks in one hand and a slightly bent paper plate in the other, and smiled at Liu Qingge through the camera. 

Liu Qingge put his phone down and picked up his final piece of sushi. The entire box had been amazing, Tianlang Jun had gone all out with his order.

There had been Salmon nigiri with Caviar (Tianlang Jun insisted Caviar was its own fish, and should be counted as a separate dish), Shrimp, Crab, Lobster, smoked Mussels, and even tempura Oysters. 

Liu Qingge didn’t like Oysters, but he hadn’t anticipated Tianlang Jun ordering Oysters with a Sushi platter, but it seemed deep frying anything made it a solid 7 in his books.

“Do you know what everything I ordered has in common?” Tianlang Jun purred, moving the sushi box out of the way, and getting to his knees.

“It was all seafood.” Liu Qingge supplied confidently.

This was what that bathroom research had been for. Now was the time for him to show off his knowledge!

It only took Tianlang Jun a couple of careful shuffles till he was fully in front of Liu Qingge, their faces a little too close.

“Nope. Well, Yes, but that wasn’t what I was talking about.” He said, grinning wickedly, “They’re all considered natural aphrodisiacs, Qing-er.”

Liu Qingge’s breath was coming fast, but he had a strong feeling it had little to do with the supposed natural aphrodisiacs and a lot to do with the fact that he had Tianlang Jun in all his glory looming into his personal space.

“That wasn’t very subtle.” Liu Qingge stated, his gaze unable to decide if it wanted to rest on Tianlang Jun’s eyes or mouth.

“I decided you weren’t very receptive to subtle.” Tianlang Jun replied, leaning forward so his words ghosted over Liu Qingge’s lips, “I felt I might need to be more direct, you seem to do well with direct.”

With that, Tianlang Jun’s mouth was on his, and all thoughts seemed to evaporate from Liu Qingge’s mind. 

There seemed to be something different in the way Tianlang Jun was kissing him, something urgent and biting in the way he licked into Liu Qingge’s mouth, pressing him backward.

It was good. 

Lie Qingge wasn’t about to take this lying down. 

He pushed back, mirroring Tianlang Jun’s movements until the two were pressed together chest to chest in a line of heat. 

One of Tianlang Jun’s hands trailed up Liu Qingge’s side, making him shiver. He felt the older man smile against his lips, and try to reach across as much of Liu Qingge as possible.

A shock of cold from Liu Qingge’s belly to his chest had him chasing and grabbing Tianlang Jun’s wrist through his shirt, where the older man’s fingers paused and splayed themselves across the left of his chest.

Gasping, Liu Qingge broke the kiss. Tianlang Jun looked at him for a moment, smiled, and kissed his way down to Liu Qingge’s neck. 

Oh. Liu Qingge’s senses narrowed down to the hot breath and lips at his ear. That was nice.

His breaths stuttered, and Tianlang Jun bit down just as an unconscious groan tried to escape Liu Qingge’s chest.

The moan caught in his throat, jumping pitch, and Liu Qingge whined.

Maybe he was going to take it lying down, Liu Qingge thought faintly as he allowed himself to be pushed back onto his elbows.

“Oh, look at you.” Tianlang Jun said lowly, as he pulled away. “You’re a vision.”

Liu Qingge’s cheeks reddened further, and he furiously blinked away the haze in his eyes. How the hell was he supposed to respond to that when Tianlang Jun in all his glory was holding himself up over Liu Qingge? 

Tianlang Jun’s stupidly hot eyes ran down Liu Qingge’s chest to where his hand was still under Liu Qingge’s shirt, and pinched him.

All the muscles in his chest tensed instinctively, and Tianlang Jun’s eyes darkened hungrily.

“Can I take this off?” Tianlang Jun asked roughly.

Liu Qingge didn’t trust his traitorous voice and simply nodded once curtly.

Tianlang Jun shifted his weight to his legs, sat down on Liu Qingge’s pelvis, and used his second, cold hand to pull Liu Qingge’s shirt up entirely.

With the few buttons already undone at the top, the neck slid up and over his head, and the entire thing was yanked over Liu Qingge’s biceps, pinning his arms in place. 

Liu Qingge flexed his shoulders and arms, trying to see if he was going to be able to wriggle this off further, and Tianlang Jun made a strangled sound.

“So strong and so pretty? That’s not fair, Qing-er.” Tianlang Jun’s voice came out low, and he leaned down till he was hovering over one of Liu Qingge’s dark nipples. 

Tianlang Jun looked up at Liu Qingge as his hot breath skimmed over it, and the skin pebbled, prickling at the unexpected temperature change. He didn’t move.

“Get on with it.” Liu Qingge finally ground out, and Tianlang Jun didn’t need to be told twice. 

His mouth was scalding against Liu Qingge’s chest, and another noise dragged its way out of his throat.

In contrast, a cold hand ran its fingers across his other nipple, and back again, until the combination of sensations and rapid breathing left him a little light-headed.

Just as Liu Qingge was adjusting, Tianlang Jun’s wet mouth began to slowly descend his chest. He brushed his lips down the lines of Liu Qingge’s stomach and mouthed at the place his hip bones met his slacks.

“Can I take these off too?” Tianlang Jun asked huskily.

“Y-Yes.”

Tianlang Jun’s hand finally abandoned bullying Liu Qingge’s chest, deftly unhooked the button, undid the zip, and yanked it down to his calves. 

He was effectively pinned. With Tianlang Jun’s weight on his bunched slacks, and the shirt jammed across his arms, Liu Qingge was stuck.

Not that he had any plans of moving. Especially since the next moment had Tianlang Jun leaning down and mouthing at the hard dick straining against the front of his briefs. 

Liu Qingge groaned, eyelids low, as he watched Tianlang Jun’s fingers curl slowly around his waistband.

Wait. He was going to be naked. And Tianlang Jun was still in his goddamn three-piece suit.

“Take your fucking clothes off too.” Liu Qingge demanded, coming out somewhat less intimidatingly than he’d like.

“All you have to do is ask, Qing-er” Tianlang Jun said with a smile, leaning back on Liu Qingge’s calves to push off his suit jacket and waistcoat, then undo his shirt from top to bottom.

Tianlang Jun was tall, and his shirt opened to reveal a strong chest and shoulders, which tapered into a gently toned stomach. Liu Qingge spent enough time unable to look away from the sight for Tianlang Jun to laugh and preen slightly.

“All of them?” He asked.

“All of them.” Liu Qingge confirmed.

Without any preamble, Tianlang Jun rose to stand, shoved his slacks and boxers to his ankles, and stepped out of them one at a time, keeping one foot on Liu Qingge’s bunched-up slacks.

That was not a cock.

That was a fucking weapon.

Liu Qingge stared at the thing, convinced until this very moment that a cock couldn't actually be that size. 

Seemingly unfazed by Liu Qingge’s reaction, Tianlang Jun settled himself back down between Liu Qingge’s thighs, curled his fingers around his waistband, and carefully pulled it down.

Liu Qingge didn’t even have time to adjust to the cool air before Tianlang Jun’s very hot and very wet mouth sealed itself around him, and sucked.

A sharp tearing sound came from behind Liu Qingge’s back, and he absently noticed the shirt around his arms slackening a little, too overwhelmed with the sudden heat.

Tianlang Jun’s mouth moved closer and closer towards Liu Qingge’s base, and Liu Qinge couldn't even think past the waves of pleasant sensation.

Tianlang Jun pulled up, and moved back down, hollowing his cheeks and dragging another groan from Liu Qingge’s chest. Their eyes met, and Liu Qingge realised with dawning horrific certainty that he absolutely wasn’t going to last.

“Slow down, I’m not going to be able to-” Liu Qingge cut himself off with a groan, but to his relief, Tianlang Jun pulled off, expression pleased.

“Not got to be able to what?” Tianlang Jun teased, seemingly content mouthing at the sensitive seam of Liu Qingge’s thigh.

“I haven’t even touched you.” Liu Qingge grumbled.

Tianlang Jun’s gaze softened, “You’d go further?”

“If you’ll let me touch you.”

Tianlang Jun shuffled up onto Liu Qingge’s lap. He grabbed Liu Qingge’s shoulder with one hand, carefully taking his weight, and reached behind him with the other to tug the remnants of his shirt from his arms.

Once freed, one of Liu Qingge’s hands came down to prop himself up. He steeled himself, and wrapped the other around Tianlang Jun’s dick.

It was heavy, there was a dragging weight to it even fully erect, and Liu Qingge’s fingers didn’t fully wrap around the shaft. 

He gave an experimental twist of his wrist, and Tianlang Jun groaned, leaning forward until their chests were flush.

Well, it seemed Tianlang Jun liked the same things as him. 

Liu Qingge began to drag his fist up and down between them, occasionally twisting and rubbing his thumb along the underside of the head. 

He felt for the things that made Tianlang Jun’s hips twitch in suppressed thrusts, and listened to what coaxed stuttering gasps from his throat, but he couldn’t seem to drag his eyes from Tianlang Jun’s face.

Tianlang Jun had his eyes closed, and a furrow of pleasure between his brows. His mouth was open, and he panted in time with Liu Qingge’s movements. He looked like a god.

Liu Qingge had never been so turned on in his life.

“Qing-er.” Tianlang Jun panted.

“Qing-er, if you want to go further tonight, you need to, ah, tell me where you keep the lube.”

“Left-side table by my bed.” Liu Qingge supplied automatically, pulling his hand up to fist the head of Tianlang Jun’s cock.

Tianlang Jun pulled himself up with a groan that sounded genuinely pained, panted down at the flushed mess that was Liu Qingge, groaned again, and marched toward the bedroom.

He returned with the lube, two pillows, and a determined glint in his eyes.

Once back to Liu Qingge, he placed a firm hand on his chest and pushed him until he was flat on the ground. The same hand curled around the back of his neck, lifted his head, and placed it back on one of the pillows.

The other hand tapped at his waist, “Lift your hips.”

Liu Qingge obeyed, and found the second pillow beneath him when he lowered them. 

The snap of the lube cap seemed incredibly loud against the backdrop of carols. 

Instead of feeling out of place, the songs were somehow softening the edge of the swirling lust and warmth in Liu Qingge’s chest into something reverent. 

This was his first time, he reasoned, it was supposed to feel special. 

That was the goal, right?

Tianlang Jun’s fingers, now slick with lube, trailed up Liu Qingge’s upper thigh and pressed into the space between his legs.

He was expecting the cold press of fingers against his hole, but it still sent a shock through him.

Tianlang Jun kissed his chest again, “Relax.”

With marked effort, Liu Qingge relaxed his muscles, and with a pleased hum, Tianlang Jun pressed a finger inside him.

Liu Qingge hadn’t touched his ass before, and he wasn’t quite sure what to expect, but the finger sliding up inside him didn’t feel as awful as he’d feared. If anything, it just felt faintly uncomfortable, something reaching a place he’d never touched.

The finger stayed there for a moment, which he was grateful for, before curling up into his stomach and brushing against something that set Liu Qingge’s nervous system on fire.

A moan ripped itself from Liu Qingge’s throat, and he felt his dick jump against his stomach.

“Ah, found it.” Tianlang Jun murmured, before pulling his finger out to the tip and pushing it back in firmly.

Liu Qingge shut his mouth in an effort to hold back the embarrassing noises that were escaping him with every thrust. He managed well enough, until Tianlang Jun slid a second finger in with the first, and somehow managed to apply more pressure.

His dick was dripping precum steadily onto his stomach now, the liquid pooling below his belly button, and Tianlang Jun looked enraptured.

Liu Qingge opened his mouth to say something scolding, but Tianlang Jun took that moment to increase the number of fingers to three, and Liu Qingge nearly choked on his own saliva. 

Oh. He might come, just like this. Liu Qingge noted faintly.

“Do you have a condom, Qing-er?” Tianlang Jun said breathily, a fourth finger teasing at Liu Qingge’s already stretched rim, and Liu Qingge tried valiantly to process words.

“No. I haven’t done this before.” He groaned.

The fingers in his ass paused for a moment before Tianlang Jun pushed all four into Liu Qingge in a long, slow movement.

Liu Qingge panted through the thrust, waiting for the slight stretch to settle into hot pleasure as the last three had, and watched Tianlang Jun grab himself around the base once.

“I don’t have one, but I’m clean. I will get the damn certificate up in my emails and show you right now if you want.” Tianlang Jun promised lowly, using his free hand to rummage around in the pile of clothes to their side.

“I believe you. It’s fine. Do it.” Liu Qingge managed to get out, as the fingers dragged punishingly up against his insides, sending electricity cracking up his spine and through his dick.

“Fuck. Ok.” Tianlang Jun replied, pulling his fingers out of Liu Qingge all at once and leaving him feeling oddly open and exposed.

The lube cap clicked again, and Liu Qingge managed to gather enough strength in his arms to push himself up onto his elbows to watch.

Heat curled low and heady in his belly as he watched Tianlang Jun run a lube-slick hand up and down his ridiculous dick once, before giving himself another firm squeeze at the base.

Without looking away from Liu Qingge’s face, Tianlang Jun pushed his legs apart and up towards his chest, exposing him further. Despite the pang of embarrassment at the position, Liu Qingge allowed himself to be moved, dropping his head back onto the pillow and watching as Tianlang Jun positioned himself at Liu Qingge’s rim.

Without any further preamble, Tianlang Jun pressed the slick head of his dick against Liu Qingges ass and pushed in an inch.

Liu Qingge breathed around the feeling, waiting for it to feel less unbearably large, and Tianlang Jun held himself very still.

Eventually, it felt less like Liu Qingge was trying to fit a baseball into his ass and more like the liquid heat from before. He reached up, slipping his fingers into the fine curls at the base of Tianlang Jun’s head, and gave them a harsh yank.

Groaning, Tianlang Jun’s hips twitched, and he sunk in another few inches, until the head of his cock slipped past the tight ring, and he seemed to regain control.

“You feel amazing, Qing-er.” Tianlang Jun praised, rubbing circles into the tender skin at the back of Liu Qingge’s thighs.

Liu Qingge couldn’t respond if he wanted to. He was too busy trying to breathe.

Slowly, Tianlang Jun pressed deeper and deeper into him. Every few seconds, Liu Qingge would tell himself that he must be nearly all inside, and then Tianglan Jun would somehow press in further. 

He was deeper than Liu Qingge had thought possible, reaching into the core of him slowly, steadily, and inevitably.

Finally, when Liu Qingge had nearly given up on being able to take the thing, he felt Tianlang Jun’s balls pressing against his ass and felt the man pepper kisses across his face.

Liu Qingge didn’t realize he’d closed his eyes until he was struggling to open them again and managed to blearily meet Tianlang Jun’s gaze.

“I’m going to move now, Qing-er.” Tianlang Jun said into his ear, and Liu Qingge nodded.

The drag out felt like he was being cored, but the slide back in pressed right up against that spot inside him and Liu Qingge only managed to groan. His free hand scratched desperately into Tianlang Jun’s shoulder blades, his other fisting hard at thick curls.

Tianlang Jun thrust again, and again, and Liu Qingge thought his brain might have dissolved because all he could think about was pleasure.

They were connected so entirely, he wasn’t sure where he ended and Tianlang Jun began, only that it felt good, and Tianlang Jun seemed to be breathing Liu Qingge’s name into his nape like it was the only word he knew.

Liu Qingge felt his eyes watering involuntarily and finally noticed he was making deep, punched-out moans on every thrust. He couldn't seem to stop, and neither did Tianlang Jun.

With dawning certainty, Liu Qingge realized this time, he really was going to come.

“Tian- Tianlang- ugh, Jun.” He tried, his entire body moving with every thrust, but the man seemed fixated on his lower stomach.

He peered down at his own stomach, blinking through the tears, and noticed a slight undulation under his belly button every time Tianlang Jun pressed in.

Oh fuck.

That was his dick. His fucking dick was so big it was actually pushing his stomach out with every thrust.

“Tianlang Jun!” He managed, voice stronger this time, snapping the man out of his daze, “I’m going to-”.

He couldn’t bring himself to say it, but it seemed Tianlang Jun had gotten the message anyway.

Tianlang Jun grabbed his hips, grit his teeth, and yanked Liu Qingge back to meet his next thrust.

Liu Qingge’s eyes rolled to the back of his head, and he made a choking sound.

It was relentless.

Tianlang Jun’s hips snapped forwards punishingly, and Liu Qingge’s dick twitched pathetically.

The pleasure was near unbearable. He didn’t know if he’d shut his eyes or if they’d simply stopped working, and he didn’t care.

He was so unbearably close, so ridiculously on edge, and he just needed something.

“Tianlang Jun!” he begged, too far past shame to even feel bad.

“Shh.” Tianlang Jun panted, increasing speed again, “Shh, I’ve got you.”

He reached down, and Liu Qingge nearly wept at the impending relief. His hand slid down, past his cock and balls, and he pressed two fingers into Liu Qingge’s perineum, and down on his prostate.

Liu Qingge barely had a moment to cry out before he was coming. 

Every muscle in his body seemed to tense simultaneously, shaking uncontrollably at the strength of his orgasm.

He’d never had an orgasm like that in his life.

Tianlang Jun cursed desperately, thrust three more hard times into Liu Qingge’s overstimulated body, before burying himself as deep as he could and coming.

Liu Qingge lay there, gasping and feeling each twitch of Tianlang Jun’s cock as he came. 

His legs were shaking in bursts that he couldn't seem to stop, and he didn’t have the energy to do anything about it. 

Tianlang Jun gently lowered himself down until he was resting fully on top of Liu Qingge, still breathing quickly. He could feel a light sheen of cooling sweat across both of their skins, and was suddenly grateful for the warmth.

“You are some sort of demon.” Tianlang Jun managed, “Something sent to test me and everything I thought I knew about myself.”

Liu Qingge didn’t feel like a demon. He felt like he’d been hit by a very pleasurable car.

“Hold on.” Tianlang Jun continued, “Give me two minutes and I’ll take care of you, I don’t trust my legs right now.”

That, Liu Qingge could sympathize with. Plus, he was sort of enjoying the warm feeling of the two of them pressed together, even if the feeling of Tianlang Jun softening inside him was slightly strange.

The carols continued to run on in the background, and Liu Qingee turned his had to look at the bright lights of Beijing out of his balcony doors. 

He brought a hand up to rest in Tianlang Jun’s hair, digging his fingers into the damp curls and absent-mindedly stratching. The man on top of him melted.

After what was certainly longer than two minutes, Tianlang Jun reluctantly slipped himself fully from Liu Qingge’s body. His eyes darted across Liu Qingge a few times before he grabbed a blanket from the sofa, tucked him into it, and stumbled naked toward the bathroom.

Liu Qingge shifted slightly, a twinge of discomfort coming from where he’d been pressed into the carpeted floor, and debated the pros and cons of getting up.

He didn’t have to debate long, thankfully, as Tianlang Jun reappeared with a wad of toilet roll, a chopping board, knife, and their Christmas apples.

“I’m guessing you won’t let me clean you up this time?” Tianlang Jun asked, smiling lazily.

Liu Qingge blanched, grabbed the tissue, and tried his best to clean himself up from under the privacy of the blanket.

Opposite him, Tianlang Jun appeared to have no qualms with sitting naked on one of the pillows he’d commandeered from the bedroom. He pulled the chopping board into his lap, grabbed Liu Qingge’s homemade apple, and proceeded to peel and cut it into little bunny slices.

From anyone else, Liu Qingge would have forcefully protested being hand-fed bunny-shaped apple slices, but it seemed Tianlang Jun was once again the exception.

Once he’d finished the sweet fruit, Liu Qingge reached over to pull the knife and board into his own lap and set himself the task of peeling Tianlang Jun’s overpriced apple and chopping it into perfectly utilitarian cubes. 

He scooped them up and into a bowl, offering the dish to Tianlang Jun, who appeared to be pouting.

“Won’t you feed me too?” He asked sadly, eyes dropping to the bowl of perfectly-cubed apple. 

Liu Qingge felt the comforting tickle of irritation in his belly. It seemed the lunacy he’d been suffering from since Tianlang Jun crawled into his lap was reserved for more heated moments.

Without pause, he grabbed three cubes of apple in one go and shoved them quite forcefully into Tianlang Jun’s mouth.

The man, understandably, choked for a minute, before managing to get the apple down.

He gave Liu Qingge a filthy grin, “Again.”

Liu Qingge thrust the bowl into his lap, pulled his blanket a little higher up his body, and made a tactical retreat to the safety of the bathroom.

 ..❅*. *❅.❆ ❅*. ❆. *❆..

That night, Liu Qingge lay in bed next to a softly snoring Tianlang Jun, set his brow, and thought.

Now, he’d been resolutely ignoring this thought since yesterday evening, and it seemed he was going to have to face it sooner rather than later.

He liked Tianlang Jun.

He’d liked a grand total of two people in his life. The first was his best friend, and there was no way in hell or high water that he would ever admit that now. Those feelings had peaked years ago, with the uncomfortable realization that they would never be reciprocated, and he’d been fine with that.

Liu Qingge had figured he was a one-and-done kind of person. He turned to look at the absolute mess of curls on the left side of his bed and was able to admit to himself in the silence of midnight on Christmas Eve, that he was not a one-and-done kind of person.

Perhaps he was a two-and-done kind of person.

He turned to peer at his alarm clock, tiredness pulling at the corners of his eyes, and noted the blinking numbers.

23:56

Last time, Liu Qingge had run away, he’d given up and told himself it was ok if he didn’t have Shen Yuan. But he’d never thought he might have to do that again.

No. Absolutely not.

Liu Qingge felt a flicker of determination pass through him. 

This time, he was going to use his words and tell Tianlang Jun that he’d enjoyed their time together and that he wanted to keep in touch.

He would work something out with his athletes. Maybe they could do more circuits in the USA? They were always getting invites for matchups, and Liu Qingge was requested by one or other upcoming star every other month to coach them. It could work.

The lump of curls beside him snuffled a little, drawing his attention back.

Well, they could work something out if Tianlang Jun was willing, that was.

 ..❅*. *❅.❆ ❅*. ❆. *❆..

The sound of muffled cursing dragged Liu Qingge from the depths of sleep to the land of the living.

He groaned, tried to sit up, and promptly decided that was a very bad idea.

The sharp hiss of pain that escaped his lips at least seemed to draw the attention of the source of the noise. Tianlang Jun pushed the door to his bedroom open with his hip, a tray of something balanced precariously in one hand, a cup of coffee in the other.

Liu Qingge gingerly pulled himself into a position that didn’t have pain lancing up his lower spine and wasn’t quite able to keep the accusation out of his glare.

To his credit, Tianlang Jun didn’t seem the least bit fazed. Instead, he seemed to look unfortunately pleased with himself. 

“I didn’t have croissants.” Liu Qingge said with a frown, surveying the spread of flakey golden pastries with the confusion that plagues both the recently awoken and those suffering head injuries.

“I ordered them.” Tianlang Jun said, a note of self-satisfaction in his tone, and handed Liu Qingge the coffee, his tone softened, “Merry Christmas.”

Liu Qingge could get used to this, he decided.

“Merry Christmas.” Liu Qingge replied, his cheeks tinting red, “Thank you for breakfast.”

Smiling, Tianlang Jun grabbed a pan au raisin, and causally said, “If you’re in pain, a bath can help.”

Oh. That would make sense. Muscles and all that. Really, Liu Qingge was supposed to be the one who knew all about recovery, heating, and icing. It was almost embarrassing that Tianlang Jun had suggested it first.

Ice crackled down Liu Qingge’s spine. 

Did Tianlang Jun do this kind of thing often?

Often enough to be spectacular in bed, offer advice on taking hot baths for sore unmentionables, and finish the whole thing off with croissants?

Liu Qingge stared down at the tray of pastries with a pit in his stomach. Really. Of course he did. Have you seen the man? People would be falling over themselves to sleep with him anywhere!

Liu Qingge felt a little small, and a little stupid.

“You’re dressed.” he noted, taking in Tianlang Jun’s slightly wrinkled suit, sans the waistcoat.

The man glanced down at himself, and smiled awkwardly, “I had a call. My editor has flown out and wants to meet to talk about the book. He’s in support! But we have to get a proposal in before the New Year.”

Was this Tianlang Jun heading off then? Now he’d gotten what he wanted?

Tianlang Jun caught Liu Qingges furrowed brow, and continued, “Ah, the Spring Festival, I mean.”

“The planes are running again?” Liu Qingge asked, suppressing a wince as he grabbed his own phone from the nightstand and found a barrage of messages from his sister. 

“Yep. They’ve got me on one this evening.” Tianlang Jun said apologetically.

Ah. He really was heading off then. 

Liu Qingge suddenly didn’t feel like the coffee and croissants were as kind as before.

“I see. I think my sister will be back soon too.” Liu Qingge said flatly.

Tianlang Jun’s smile dimmed a little, before coming back in full force, a little more strained than before, “Should I get out of your hair?” 

Liu Qingge stared at a perfectly golden butter croissant, and willed his voice into something resembling his usual tone, “Don’t you need to meet your editor?”

“Ah, that’s true. I suppose.” Tianlang Jun stood up and turned before Liu Qingge could see his face, “Speak later?”

Liu Qingge didn’t know how they were meant to speak later if they’d never exchanged numbers, but he knew a dismissal when he heard one.

“Later, then.”

Tianlang Jun seemed to pause at that and turned back around. He took a few steps until he was beside Liu Qingge’s bed with a complicated expression.

He leaned down, until he was level with Liu Qingge’s face, and brought a hand up to gently pull his chin up. 

Liu Qingge allowed it with little more than a pang of despair at himself in the pit of his stomach, and Tianlang Jun pressed their mouths together gently.

“I’m really glad we met.” Tianlang Jun said against his lips, before pulling away, and with one final look, left Liu Qingge’s bedroom. 

A few seconds later, Liu Qingge heard the front door click, and his apartment returned to its usual morning silence. 

He looked down at the pastries, noticing for the first time a smiley face drawn onto each one with the remnants of their cookie icing. 

With something that absolutely wasn't a sniffle, Liu Qingge shoved the coffee cup onto his bedside table, rolled over, and pulled the covers up over his ears to muffle the sound of his phone.

Eventually, the buzzing of his phone became too annoying to ignore, and he grabbed the device, opening his sister’s chat.

Liu Qingge quickly typed out a response and was relieved at the instantaneous reply.

Liu Qingge wasn’t sure how to tell his sister he’d been fucked and chucked, and so decided he simply wouldn’t. 

To his relief, she quickly sent him another message.

The relief quickly evaporated.

He tapped out of her chat, and opened Shen Yuan’s tab to read the barrage of messages he’d missed since last night.

 ..❅*. *❅.❆ ❅*. ❆. *❆..

Liu Qingge sat in his Jeep at the Beijing Capital International Airport with the radio off.

He waited with his phone in his hand, checking to see if he’d had a message from Mingyan every few minutes. 

A couple walked past his car, suitcases in hand, and laughed loudly enough that he could hear it even with his windows closed. 

Liu Qingge frowned and checked his phone again viciously.

There was a new message.

Liu Qingge sat up, bolt upright in his chair.

How the fuck did Tianlang Jun get his number?

What did this mean?

Did he not actually get fucked and chucked?

Liu Qingge scrolled up, past Tianlang Jun’s messages, and stared at the horrific truth.

Liu Qingge stared down at his phone in shock, and the messages kept coming.

Face aflame, Liu Qingge felt a tidal wave of relief. A flood. 

Getting ahold of himself, he tried to figure out what on earth he could reply to that. 

What could anyone reply to that?!

THAT WAS THE WRONG THING TO SAY.

Liu Qingge knew as soon as he’d pressed send that it was the wrong thing to say.

Shit. Could you edit messages on WeChat?

His phone buzzed again, and Liu Qingge glumly prepared for some sort of rebuke.

Liu Qingge highly doubted the man could be missing him after a mere twelve hours, and resolutely shoved his squirming stomach down.

Now he felt bed. He was being mean.

With a heavy sigh, he opened the chat one last time and typed.

Liu Qingge’s phone continued to buzz with progressively worse emoticons for the next twenty minutes, right up until Mingyan opened the passenger seat door, jumped in, and hugged him.

After that, he put the ceaselessly buzzing thing on silent.

 ..❅*. *❅.❆ ❅*. ❆. *❆..

Epilogue

Liu Qingge glared angrily at the mess of ruined apples on the table in front of him.

He just needed to carve one! Or paint one! Or do something else to it so he wasn’t a complete, apple-less failure.

“Ge?”

Mingyan poked her head around the doorway into the kitchen, caught sight of him, and smiled, “Come on, just use one of those ones. I can see at least four usable designs on that table!”

Liu Qingge’s hands shook slightly as he tried his best to paint a dragon boat onto the side of his sixth apple, breathing out a sigh of relief when the thing came out more dragon-like than his previous attempts. 

In the last year, Tianlang Jun had flown to Beijing for nearly every traditional holiday, only missing the Qingming Festival (to which he’d received a series of twenty photographs of Tianlang Jun enjoying green tea and flying kites, then a series of incredibly explicit images of Tianlang Jun in a sex swing).

He’d been to the States a few times in exchange, California specifically, as a coach for one of his athletes, or to do a short training program for an American athlete (which paid extraordinarily well, funnily enough). Each time he tried to time it with a Western Holiday, like Valentine’s Day, or Halloween, and he’d meet with Tianlang Jun.

They also seemed to be texting incessantly, to Liu Qingge’s despair. 

(Apart from the one week in June when Liu Qingge had been overwhelmingly infuriated to find out that the fucking book Tianlang Jun had been working on since December was a porn book starring them both.)

He’d really tried his best to be a respectable adult, but it was his even more-adultier partner who seemed to be glued to his phone the minute Liu Qingge wasn’t within eyesight.

Liu Mingyan hovered knowingly from just outside the kitchen. 

“I’m sure it’s going to be fine, Ge. I already feel like I know the guy, what with all the photos you two take, and I know Shen Yuan feels the same way.”

Liu Qingge’s shoulders sag slightly, and he gave her a nod. 

“I know. I just want it to be, you know.” He waved a hand around abstractly, “Nice.” he finished lamely.

Liu Qingge’s phone gave a tired buzz from its place away from sticky apples and it’s owner’s wrath.

He opened the familiar chat, skimmed the message, and wrote out a fast reply.

Liu Qingge glared down at his most recent apple attempt.

It was going to have to do.

Just as he was finishing stuffing the thing into a particularly egregious gold cellophane bag, the doorbell rang.

Liu Qingge frowned, it had only been five minutes, and Tianglan Jun was never early.

He turned the corner in the kitchen to find Shen Yuan and his horrible husband stomping snow off their boots and shucking their coats in the warm air.

Shen Yuan caught sight of him before he could say anything, “Shidi!”

His best friend knew everyone there, and the relaxed, poised air he put up melted off Shen Yuan with a happy smile as he took everyone in.

“Mingyan, Hualing, it’s lovely to see you both!”

Liu Qingge’s Meimei walked gracefully over and pulled Shen Yuan into a hug. 

“A-Yuan!” She cooed, rubbing her cheek on the poor man’s sleek hair, ensuring it stuck up just a little on his left side.

As soon as she released him, the beast was there, smoothing down the hair and tutting disapprovingly at his Meimei.

Liu Qingge’s gaze darkened. 

Mingyan sent him a warning look, and he deflated. 

He’d promised her that he wouldn’t try and punch the asshole this time, after the whole eloping debacle. 

“Luo Binghe” Liu Qingge grunted.

“Liu Qingge.” The beast said back, giving him a dismissive once over.

Oh, that’s it. The asshole was literally begging for it!

Held back (necessarily) by his little sister’s surprisingly strong girlfriend, their two newest guests made their way inside. They settled onto the sofas around their yet-to-be-decorated plastic tree. 

After another five minutes, Liu Qingge’s leg was bouncing against the floor, and he couldn't quite stop it for longer than thirty seconds each time. 

When the doorbell finally went, Liu Qingge jumped to his feet, and an excited hush settled across the guests.

Liu Qingge felt ridiculously awkward.

“Well. I’m going to get that.” He grumbled, grateful that the entranceway was just out of sight from the lounge.

He didn’t quite leave fast enough to miss Luo Binghe’s quiet hiss of, “Shizun. Who even cares who he dates? He could date a lettuce for all I care.”

“Binghe!” Shen Yuan hissed, scandalized, “I keep trying to show you photos, but you won’t look! He seems very handsome and very nice!”

“I’d like to see how handsome he is.” Luo Binghe muttered darkly.

Liu Qingge managed to reach the door without turning around and punching Luo Binghe right in his smug face and took a breath. 

He smoothed down some creases in his slacks awkwardly, before steeling himself and opening the door.

“Qing-er!” 

Liu Qingge found himself swept into a pair of strong arms, enveloped by the comforting smell of Tianlang Jun’s peppery cologne, and he felt the stress of the entire season begin to leave his body.

“It’s good to see you.” He managed to grumble into Tianlang Jun’s horrendous Christmas sweater.

“Are they all here then?” Tianlang Jun said with a broad smile. It took someone who knew him well to be able to spot the little signs of nervousness, like the slight tightness in his eyes and the way he’d puffed his chest out further than usual.

“Yeah.” Liu Qingge sighed, suddenly remembering the hell beast in his lounge, “Everyone except Yue Qingyuan and Shen Jiu could make it. They’re somewhere in Switzerland.”

Tianlang Jun nodded resolutely and was about to walk into the room when Liu Qingge grabbed him by the elbow. 

“The beast is here. Shen Yuan’s husband. He’s probably going to say some stupid stuff about me and try to be a pain. Just ignore him, ok?” Liu Qingge muttered.

Eyes darkening, Tianlang Jun seemed to grow somewhat taller, a vaguely terrifying malaise seeming to roll off him in waves, “Is that so?”.

“Did he turn up, then?” Luo Binghe called out loudly, just as Tianlang Jun sauntered into the lounge, a hard smile on his handsome face.

And froze.

Luo Binghe stared at Tianlang Jun in apparent horror.

Tianlang Jun stared back.

Luo Binghe’s throat worked a few times furiously, but no sound came out.

Tianlang Jun didn’t seem to have the same problem.

Suddenly delighted, he spread his arms wide and laughed, voice booming across the room.

“Binghe! What are you doing here!?”

“…Dad!?”