Chapter Text
Wen Kexing goes through the steps of making coffee methodically. Put the kettle on. Pour the beans into the grinder. Fill the cafetiere with ground coffee. As the coffee brews, he has to pause, and he notices the shake in his hands. It’s been weeks since they came here, and the nightmares were still leaving him weak and afraid every morning. He hates it. This is their home now. It’s hard to admit that there’s a darkness that follows him, even here.
“You’re up early.”
Wen Kexing jumps at the sound of A-Xu’s voice, but musters up a dazzling smile before facing him. “A-Xu! You know I’m always awake before you. And anyway, I have to wake up to make the coffee, the stuff you make is always so…”
He pulls a face as he hands A-Xu a mug.
“I can make coffee just fine, thank you. It’s just this new coffee pot you got I can’t get my head around.”
Wen Kexing listens to him grumble, but it’s been a long time since there was any real bite to his words. Instead, Zhou Zishu just smiles that gentle, unrelenting smile that has Wen Kexing all but begging for mercy every time. After everything, after all the violence, he didn’t think there was a gaze in the world he couldn’t meet unwaveringly. Somehow, A-Xu had him simpering over his morning coffee.
“Lao Wen,” he murmurs in a voice thick with sleep, “thanks for the coffee.”
A-Xu takes his hand and guides him to their living room, full of deep reds and soft cushions and shelves full of books they haven’t read yet. This is one of his favourite parts of their routine – the early mornings spent in comfortable silence, drinking coffee (and it’s good coffee, his new cafetiere works, whatever A-Xu says).
And with that, Wen Kexing wins another morning; the nightmares have gone undetected another day. It’s always a risk, sleeping next to A-Xu every night as he does, but it’s a small price to pay to hold this little world they share together.
~
That evening, Wen Kexing finally relents and lets Zhou Zishu cook for him. Whatever other virtues he might have, A-Xu certainly hadn’t spent much time in the kitchen. Wen Kexing spent the evening sitting antsy at the kitchen table and watching A-Xu like a hawk. Eventually, he’s banished from the kitchen, and is left bereft in the living room again. It’s been just half an hour, and missing A-Xu is absurd, but it’s a rift that wasn’t there before and Wen Kexing hates it. He will make sure to behave himself in the kitchen next time.
His A-Xu has cooked him a stew, and he adores it. Admittedly, it isn’t as good as his own cooking – it could use a little more salt, a few more onions, and the meat is a little tough, but he eats it without complaint.
When they’re both done, A-Xu gets up to clear their plates and asks, “How was it?”
Wen Kexing hesitates, and then curses himself for doing so. But A-Xu just laughs, and plants a kiss on the crown of his head. “Don’t worry, I’ll get better at this.”
He begins to walk away, and Wen Kexing grabs at his sleeve. “No.” He shakes his head, feeling almost childish. “No, it’s fine, I really love your cooking as it is. A-Xu…”
A-Xu fixes him with a curious look. His cheeks are a little flushed from the wine they shared. “You’re impossible. If I don’t cook for you, I’m your useless wife, but apparently, I can’t be too good at it either. Are you really so insecure?”
There’s nothing he can say to that, so he just wraps his arms around A-Xu’s waist and holds him tight. A-Xu is still carrying the plates, but he laughs and uses his free hand to gently pet Wen Kexing’s hair. “Next time, I’ll just let you fuss over me in the kitchen. It would probably do me some good.”
Wen Kexing is holding back tears, and he can’t even explain why.
~
It’s been a week and Wen Kexing is still winning. He’s up every morning, dutifully making A-Xu his coffee, and it feels like victory. Maybe it is possible for A-Xu’s happy ending to coexist with the nightmares that eat Wen Kexing alive every night.
He’s too caught up in his own thoughts and his hand slips. The coffee pot smashes into a million shards of glass as it hits the floor. Wen Kexing can’t even process it at first. He doesn’t manage to shed a single tear before he feels a hand on his shoulder.
“Lao Wen.”
There’s nothing worse than an audience but there’s no keeping back the histrionics now. The tears come. A-Xu’s touch is overwhelming. Wen Kexing shoves A-Xu away and backs himself against the kitchen counter, then slides to the floor. He can’t look at A-Xu, but he can scream at him, and he does.
“What is wrong with me? Why must it always end like this? There’s nothing good in me, Zhou Zishu. Nothing good can come from me. I can’t give you a happy ending, there’s nothing I can’t break…”
Zhou Zishu frowns. “‘Happy ending’? Lao Wen, it’s just a coffee pot.”
At first Wen Kexing just wants to keep screaming, to make him understand, but he can’t make Zhou Zishu understand. So, he says nothing.
Slowly, Zhou Zishu lowers himself to a crouch and extends a hand out to Wen Kexing. As always, his touch is soft, and he only pats Wen Kexing’s shoulder once before withdrawing again. Then he slips down onto the floor too, a little distance away from Wen Kexing.
“I don’t think you know quite how long I lived on instant coffee. It’s nasty stuff, but it does the job. If it makes you feel any better, I might even admit that the fresh stuff is nicer. But I can survive without it for one day.”
Wen Kexing’s sobs were bordering on hysterical. “It was a gift.”
“Then I’ll do you a favour,” A-Xu laughs. “I’ll let you buy the new one.”
~
The first visitor to their new home is, of course, the Old Monster. At the end of the day, without Ye Baiyi, they wouldn’t have any of this. Wen Kexing knows he should be grateful. He’s being selfish, and he knows that too. Even so, his visit is an unwelcome intrusion into his routine with A-Xu, and all kinds of catastrophic scenarios ran through Wen Kexing’s head in the days that led up to the occasion.
He paces around their bedroom, running it over and over in his head and trying to imagine a series of events where everything is okay. Maybe it’s a little overboard, fantasizing about all the ways a simple dinner party could ruin his life. He also can’t reach the end of a single train of thought without descending into panic.
It’s at that moment that he catches the scent of dinner cooking in the kitchen, and his already racing heart kicks it up a notch. It does smell good, but the smell sets his head spinning. He makes a frantic dash for the kitchen, practically throwing himself down the stairs in the process. He arrives before Zhou Zishu flustered and breathless.
“Why are you cooking?”
Zhou Zishu turns and looks at him with brows furrowed. “Hmm? Oh. Did you forget? Ye Baiyi is coming over tonight. I’m making dinner for us.”
“I – I was going to do that.” Met with A-Xu’s nonchalance, Wen Kexing feels suddenly ridiculous. Their cosy little kitchen is suddenly too small for him, but there’s no way to shrink himself back to size now. “You should have reminded me, I only forgot…”
A-Xu shrugs. “I can cook, Lao Wen, despite what you think. And you seemed busy, anyway.”
Busy? He wasn’t busy at all. He spent the day wondering the house, rearranging the décor, opening books then closing them, sitting still for a moment only to start pacing over again a second later. Small actions that left their space a little different, but not fundamentally changed. If anything, he felt more like a ghost that day than he ever had before.
He hears A-Xu put the kitchen knife he was holding down in the same moment he registers the wet warmth of tears on his cheeks. He watches as his beloved approaches him like a wild animal, his expression wary and his hands outstretched. Instinctually, he backs away.
“It’s fine. I’m fine.”
“Lao Wen.”
“Ah, A-Xu, don’t call me like that!” He wipes away the tears with his sleeve. “You are just so shockingly thoughtful at times, I never would have thought I could tame rough old Zhou Xu into such a good little housewife.”
Clearly, Zhou Zishu had more he wanted to say, but Wen Kexing’s already giggling at the blush in his cheeks. He pokes said cheeks with a grin, then picks up the knife from where A-Xu had left it. “Now let me chop these vegetables for you – I’d feel like a negligent wife if I didn’t at least help you make dinner.”
The simple motions of preparing food help sooth his ragged nerves. He just had to convince himself he was imagining the moments where he caught a look of concern on A-Xu’s face. It never stayed in place long enough to be real.
Ye Baiyi remained as unrelenting as he ever was. There was no true malice left between the two of them anymore, but any affection was present only in the trust that it was there, rather than in the expression of it. He sneers and mocks and takes up space in his little home with A-Xu, and Wen Kexing is seething. Unfortunately, there’s no way to admit that without confessing to the weakness that had crept into Wen Kexing, a weakness that made Ye Baiyi’s coarse manner just too abrasive for him to bear.
“Hey, brat,” he called out to Wen Kexing with a playful punch to his shoulder. Wen Kexing bristled. “So, you don’t cook anymore?”
“Are you complaining about my cooking?” Zhou Zishu spoke before Wen Kexing could.
“I helped,” insisted Wen Kexing.
Ye Baiyi snorted at that. “So that’s your trick, brat? You seduce a good man with your cooking, then leave him to his own devices once you’ve ensnared him? Shameful, honestly.”
All three of them flinched at the sound of Wen Kexing’s hands slamming against the table. He was on his feet before he could really think it through, shaking uncontrollably and tears threatening. He wouldn’t cry, not at least until Ye Baiyi was gone.
“Lao Wen-”
“Do you really think you can talk to me like that in my own home, Old Monster?” Wen Kexing was practically snarling. “I do not believe you have been alone for so long that you have forgotten all decency. Take your grief and your bitterness elsewhere – it is not Zhou Zishu’s problem, nor mine.”
“Wen Kexing, I-”
“I don’t want to hear it. Leave.”
There was no smirk on Ye Baiyi’s face now. He held up his hands in surrender, while A-Xu stood beside Wen Kexing, holding him but also holding him back. That feeling of the enormity of himself and his emotions was back and the walls were closing in on him. Wen Kexing could feel both sets of eyes on him, and he still could not bring himself to heel.
The tension only dissipated when Ye Baiyi stood to leave. Wen Kexing had never seen the man leave a bowl of food unfinished. As the older man headed towards the door, Wen Kexing felt A-Xu let go of him, leaving his side to see the Old Monster out.
Wen Kexing watched numbly as Zhou Zishu placed those same hands on Ye Baiyi’s shoulders. Leaning in, he muttered something. From the angle they were standing, he could only see Ye Baiyi’s side profile. He watched him grimace, nod once, and then he turned back.
“Don’t let your wife cook for me again,” he said, with a kind of authority Wen Kexing despised. “You can flatter him all you want, but he isn’t half as good in the kitchen as you are.”
When he was gone, A-Xu hurried back to Wen Kexing, not touching yet but close enough for it if Wen Kexing chose to reach out. Wen Kexing’s hands remained gripping the table.
“What did you say to him?” His words almost sounded strangled.
Hesitantly, Zhou Zishu wrapped an arm around Wen Kexing’s shoulder. “I told him that I’m grateful, and I always will be – but he should watch his mouth.”
I don’t believe you.
Wen Kexing nodded. “He’s not welcome back until he learns to pay us just a little respect in our own home.”
“Of course.” A-Xu didn’t look him in the eye as he said it.
~
By the time morning came, Zhou Zishu clearly forgot about the conflict at dinner the night before. Wen Kexing had not. As the sun rose, Wen Kexing was still as awake as he had been when lying down for the night. If the sleep deprivation was affecting him, he couldn’t feel it as anything more than a distant echo. He set out before A-Xu woke up – not before making him his coffee, of course.
This early, the shops were a lot quieter than usual, which suited Wen Kexing and his odd mood. He could flit between aisles and shelves uninterrupted, chasing down thoughts as they fluttered to the surface. Trailing back and circling around and even muttering to himself, no one was around to question it besides a few floor workers. That didn’t matter. They had no doubt seen worse.
It was early afternoon when he got back to the house, shopping bags in hand.
A-Xu was sat at the kitchen table, eating a sandwich. “Where have you been?”
“I went shopping. I left you a note.” He glanced at the counter. “I… meant to leave you a note.”
“That’s ok. You are allowed to leave. What did you get?”
Wen Kexing rushed to his man’s side. He took his chin gently and guided his face to his. The force of the kiss seemed to take A-Xu aback, and then Wen Kexing kissed him harder. Despite his shock, A-Xu met him in kind, taking hold of his waist so that their bodies pressed together. From that moment, Wen Kexing trusted his beloved to take the reins and guide him out of his clothes, place his bare skin on the cold stone of the counter, and demonstrate his adoration.
Hours later, Wen Kexing was stretched out on the soft velvet of their sofa. His breath was slowly returning to normal. Seemingly, A-Xu was dozing against his chest. He closed his eyes.
Maybe he dozed too, because a gentle tap to his nose brought him jumping back to consciousness.
“Hmm?”
“Lao Wen.” A-Xu remained in the same position, but he was grinning up at him now. “You didn’t answer my question. I like your dick, but it doesn’t take you all morning to get it ready for me. Where did you go?”
“Ah! I’m going to cook you dinner tonight.”
A-Xu’s face darkened. “This isn’t because of last night, is it?”
“Don’t be ridiculous, A-Xu.” He ran his fingers through his hair in an effort to soothe him. “I just like to cook for you.”
It was clear from his expression that he didn’t believe him. Wen Kexing did not particularly care. If anything, that made them even after A-Xu’s little lie the night before. As if he was on the same page, A-Xu just nodded.
Oh, and Wen Kexing would cook the best meal he could for his man – and A-Xu was his man. He spent the evening scurrying around the kitchen, fixing up a whole host of dishes for him. And when the recipe called for wine, half the bottle went in the food, half in Wen Kexing. Nothing wrong with it – Wen Kexing was a pleasant drunk, all flushed and full of smiles. The trouble was, the intricate dance he was working over the stove became dizzying as his senses dulled. He wondered the kitchen in a daze. Was this home really getting smaller around him? It certainly felt like the walls were getting closer and closer every day. Or maybe it was him, taking up too much space. As per usual.
By the time they sat down to eat, Wen Kexing did not have much of an appetite for the food he had so lovingly prepared. He lay out dish after dish in front of A-Xu, vaguely dissatisfied by the end product. Worst of all, A-Xu barely seemed to notice the meal in front of him. He watched Wen Kexing closely. It really was a marvel, he thought, how many ways A-Xu could look at him to render him completely useless.
Wen Kexing broke the silence with a laugh. He poured himself another glass of wine, and said “A-Xu, I have to apologise to you. The food was too good, I have been grazing while I cooked. You go ahead though!”
There was that tension between them again, a little white lie left unacknowledged. Wen Kexing just kept smiling. He gestured towards the spread of food between them. Hesitantly, Zhou Zishu picked up his cutlery and tucked in.
“It’s good. You’re a good cook, Lao Wen, I’ll give you that.”
Such a direct compliment from A-Xu would usually have made him glow, grinning from ear to ear and preening under the light of his beloved’s attention. Now, he couldn’t help but acutely feel that edge A-Xu had around him these days. Somehow, it had snuck into some crevice between the two of them and grown from there. It had Wen Kexing aching to beg for something, whatever it was he felt he was losing. Ridiculous, obviously, because he couldn’t even put his finger on what it was.
So, he laughed again. “Do you remember that coffee pot? I wasn’t just upset about it because it was a gift. Did you know that?”
“I know, Lao Wen.”
Wen Kexing nods. Where was he going with this? Tonight, there was none of the warmth and serenity he associated with drinking like this. Instead, he just felt hopelessly muddled. He was addled with the feeling, hands slow and mind slower. He didn’t have the words for what he wanted to say.
It’s Zhou Zishu that broke the silence again. “I also know you won’t tell me about it until you want to. I just… want you to know that you can tell me, when that moment comes. Alright?”
Then that warm, gentle look was back on his face, the look that made Wen Kexing want to squirm and scream and run away. Surely it shouldn’t be so unbearable to look into a lover’s face and see love and acceptance. He could only meet A-Xu’s gaze for a moment before it got too much. “A-Xu – why would I hide anything from you?”
He raised an eyebrow. “I really don’t know, Lao Wen.”
~
At 3am, Wen Kexing woke up screaming. As he pulled his face away from the pillow, the sticky dampness told him he had been crying. Beside him, A-Xu woke, muttered some small noise of surprise, then reached out to Wen Kexing as an instinct. It was too much, he couldn’t bare the idea of a gentle touch, and so he scrambled away, clawing his way out of the bed sheets and landing on the floor with a thud. It’s too much to stand, so he crawls, painstakingly making his way to the bathroom, where he loses all of last night’s indulgence.
Still gagging, his face hits the cold tile of the bathroom floor. The world spins around him, and it takes him too long to notice Zhou Zishu standing in the doorway. Anger rises in his throat. It takes every ounce of energy he has in his body to prop himself up on his hands. It’s still pathetic, he knows that, but it’s all he can do to claw back some shred of dignity.
“Don’t look at me like that,” he spits, “it’s not like you haven’t been here before.”
A-Xu blinks. “Why do you always think the worst of me, Lao Wen?”
“What else should I think, when you look at me like that? Like…” He just gestures up at the man he loves. He still doesn’t have the words. A-Xu moves to approach, but Wen Kexing holds out a hand in an attempt to keep him at bay. Instead, it gets tangled in the loose material of A-Xu’s pyjamas. He stares, uncomprehending, at his own fingers – he is on his knees, weeping openly and clutching at A-Xu’s clothes. Now it really feels like he’s begging. Eventually his muscles make the call for him, and he tugs A-Xu closer, clumsily resting his head against his thigh.
“Lao Wen,” A-Xu sounds desperate as he calls his name. “Lao Wen, please talk to me. Please just tell me that you are okay. Are you hurt? Do I… do I need to take you to a hospital?”
“I’m just so sad,” he sobs. “I’m just so sad, A-Xu, and I don’t know why.”
“Lao Wen-”
“I’m okay,” he answers breathlessly. “Not hurt. Just sad.”
A-Xu takes a deep breath of relief. He crouches, hooks his strong arms under Wen Kexing’s arms and pulls them both to their feet. Wen Kexing wobbles, but A-Xu holds him steady. He doesn’t complain as A-Xu gently leads him to the kitchen and places him at the table. A-Xu works as he speaks, fetching the bread from the cupboard, cutting a few slices, then depositing it into the toaster. Wen Kexing had baked the bread himself just over a week ago and it was probably a little stale by now. He laughs, but A-Xu ignores it.
“You know by now, Lao Wen, that I don’t want to ask you anything that you aren’t willing to answer. I know you, and I know you won’t speak your mind until it suits you. That rule still generally applies – you come to me when you are ready. But… I don’t think I can live like that anymore. I need to know what happened tonight.”
Wen Kexing shrugged. “I may have overdone it. That’s all. We’ve all done it. You’ve done it.”
The anger written all over A-Xu’s face is enough to make Wen Kexing gasp. Then the toast’s done, the ping drawing both their attention. For a moment, Zhou Zishu is occupied with buttering the toast, cutting it into triangles, then putting the plate down in front of Wen Kexing. “You should eat something. You barely ate at dinner. I’d make you something more substantial, but we both know I’m not good at cooking.”
“I wasn’t hungry then.” He says petulantly, but he does as he is told. “I don’t think I could handle much more than toast, anyway.”
Zhou Zishu let him eat his toast in silence before speaking again. He looks a lot calmer now, but there’s still a look to him that set Wen Kexing on edge. “So, will you talk to me now?”
“I told you – not much to talk about.”
“Lao Wen.” He reaches out and takes Wen Kexing’s wrist. “… As you said, we’ve all gone too far before. Especially me. In fact, it would be very easy to sit beside you and get obliterated every night. I could you push you further just the way you push me sometimes.” He pauses, sighs, and he sounds just so tired. “But I’m not going to do that.”
Wen Kexing’s heart clenches in his chest. “A-Xu, I… I didn’t… I’m so sorry…”
“No. Don’t be. I don’t say this to hurt you. I just want you to understand why I’m not angry.”
Across the table, Zhou Zishu takes a seat. He reaches out and takes Wen Kexing’s hand again. “So – you had another nightmare tonight, yes?”
“What?” Wen Kexing’s eyes snap up, only to be met with the endless gentleness of A-Xu’s gaze. He swallows back his instinctive, violent urge to flee. “You know about that?”
A-Xu blinks. “About the nightmares? Lao Wen, I sleep beside you every night. How could I not know?”
“So… so I lost. Already.”
“Lost what?”
Wen Kexing gestures all around him. This home, his happiness, his stability, the bed he shares with A-Xu, even that damned new coffee pot. “What we have here, it’s good. I don’t want it to change.”
“Wen Kexing, what does that mean…” The words come out harsh, and Zhou Zishu buries his head in his one free hand.
Now that he’s forced to explain himself, Wen Kexing finds that he can’t. There had always been a logic to what he was doing, but whatever it had been, it had scattered like cockroaches exposed to the light. Maybe he was just trying to tether this good life down, to pin himself and A-Xu into their home and hold them here, together, so it wouldn’t slip out from underneath them.
Of course, that makes no sense, so Wen Kexing just says, “I don’t know. I think I’m just happy here, and I think you are too, and I would do anything to hold that together, for both of us.”
Zhou Zishu’s mouth falls open in incomprehension and disbelief. “So, what, you thought if you stand really still, the big bad monsters from your deep, dark past wouldn’t be able to find you? Lao Wen, how old are you exactly?”
It’s almost morning now, and Wen Kexing is tired. He knows when to call a losing battle.
“Maybe I just didn’t want you to watch me suffer.”
Tears pour down A-Xu’s face, and his laugh is almost vicious. “What exactly do you think I’m doing now?”