Chapter Text
She Li, ridiculous as it sounded, texted his mother. There was no knowing how he even got the number. There was nothing ridiculous about the thoroughly lewd and degenerate contents of the message.
Guan Shan couldn't help but compare the text with the cloyingly sweet notes he opened on every school afternoon. He looked outside the living room window and for a split second - he saw a shadow behind a tree. And this time the shadow stood still. Waiting. Surveying.
A phone rang, jarringly loud, and he realised it was his own. The number was of one of the two contacts he had saved, and Jian Yi shouted into his ears, “Redhead! He Tian's hurt!”
A thought flashed behind his eye - of He Tian falling below through layers of the lake, slow…unmoving…
The shadow was still there. His eyebrows drew together and he wondered when the sky would split, and She Li would make his move.
───☆───
He was thoroughly out of breath by the time he got to the two-storey Jian Yi sent him the address of. He took a moment to process the urban neighbourhood, the plain house at its end. He jogged up the porch lined with stone and opened the already ajar door. He kicked his shoes off at the doorway (he wasn’t a heathen), and stepped inside.
He Tian's apartment was mostly bereft of furniture, enough to make every breath, every brush of socks against the wooden flooring ricochet and clang against the wall of glass, which spread out on the entire right end of the room that looked more the size of a wedding venue. The city sprawled, thousands of windows tinged orange by the sunset.
The room had one large sofa of white leather, smack in the middle. He Tian was sprawled over it, eyes shut, and red stained across his knuckles cushioned beneath his head, which lifted just a bit when he saw the new entry. “Little Mo! You came!”
There was blood smeared on his face, too, but Guan Shan wasn't foolish enough to think it was He Tian’s, judging by the idiotically smug expression on the bastard’s face.
Frankly disgusted, he went over to kick the sofa viciously, ignoring the spike of pain that shot up his toes. “I shouldn't have! Who gives a f*ck if you get killed, anyways? It's your f*cking problem, you stupid idiot! Chicken dick! Wasting my time!”
He Tian easily sat up on the sofa, holding out the back of his hands. “See. I got hurt.”
His knuckles were cracked. Guan Shan had seen kindergarteners with deeper injuries.
He turned. “I'm leaving.” Something lightly brushed against his legs and, to his immense surprise, he looked down to see a golden retriever sniffing his shin.
He Tian said from behind, “Meet CuoCuo. I bought her from this random lady on 16th Street.”
Guan Shan dropped onto his knees, reaching out to thoroughly pet the dog with all the love it deserved, having to suffer through living with the bastard. Her fur was exceedingly soft and smelled of - jasmine? - and Guan Shan had to reluctantly admit she shone with vitality. “You have a dog-keeper or some sh*t?”
He Tian replied, “Nah, I take care of her myself.” And he sounded quite proud, too. “But, Little Mo, what about me? Won't you pet my head too?” A pout.
Guan Shan glanced up at him before throwing his arm around the dog. “You know what…just for CuoCuo’s sake I'll make you something to eat.”
“I love the sentiment, Little Mo.” He Tian grinned sheepishly. “You can try.”
“What's that supposed to mean?”
───☆───
Guan Shan stared at the forlorn shelves of one of the best refrigerators ever produced. With two doors, one of which was see-through, and a screen with which he could adjust the temperature of different sections–
Just for a single packet of devastatingly expired instant noodles to sit there pathetically.
He Tian said right into his ear, “Let's order.”
Guan Shan went against every instinct not to push him away, to jab an elbow back into the idiot's ribs – and a strange thing happened.
His cheeks burned. With all the fierceness of ten suns his heart slammed against his chest. He Tian’s scent was invading his senses, clouding them invisible.
“F-fine.” He slipped away to find CuoCuo by the glass wall and crouched to hide his face into her fur. f*ck. His heart was beating loud enough for all sounds around him to get muffled in his ears.
He Tian was washing his hands in the kitchen sink, and he returned with his shirt off. He was clearly making sure Guan Shan didn’t see his back, when he returned to the couch. He also seemed wildly entertained about whatever he was seeing, which just happened to be Mo Guan Shan and the dog. “My two favourite living organisms…together at last. Come heree, little darling~”
Guan Shan honestly had no idea who he was talking to.
CuoCuo trotted away to another room. Guan Shan dragged a hand through his hair, stretching his legs out and leaning his back against the glass. “The dog you lost as a child…what breed was it?”
“Same as CuoCuo, actually,” replied He Tian thoughtfully (for once). “Sometimes she reminds me of…but that's impossible, right? My brother would never…”
“I saw your tattoo,” said Guan Shan, regretting the words as soon as they left his mouth.
He Tian was silent for a moment. “So you did.” Then, “Aren't you curious if I'm a bad person? My father and brother are mafia, I have the family tattoo, I'm covered in blood…”
“Why the f*ck should I be curious?” Guan Shan was not hypocritical enough to judge people based on their family.
“Well, I'm curious about you. I want to know everything - what you eat, where you go, what you do, if you're sensitive in your-”
“Shove off,” groaned Guan Shan half-heartedly. He knew he had been disarmed, had his resolve weakened by that predatory and innocent grin, those ridiculous (and yet, tempting) words —
“Most of all, I want to know why you're scared of She Li.”
“I thought you asked brother Qiu to –”
“I wanna hear it from you.”
“And if I don't tell you?”
“Then you'll have to start paying me to meet CuoCuo,” finished He Tian smugly.
“Seriously? f*ck you.” Thank goodness the apartment was more bare than a new born baby or else Guan Shan would have hurled something. “I…f*ck. You can't tell Jian Yi or Zheng Xi. Please.” That last word, he had to choke out.
He Tian leaned ahead to rest his elbows on his knees and lightly blow on his busted knuckles. “A secret between just the two of us? Count me in~”
“He killed She Li's father.” The words had come out in a rush – the dam in his mind opening for the first time. “My dad stabbed him seven times in a gang fight. He's still in prison.”
He Tian didn't even blink. He'd obviously seen worse in his 17 years. “So the rat wants revenge. Why are you still alive, then?”
“She Li, he…” It was truly hard to explain, just what he and She Li were. Enemies was not the right word. “He wants total control over me, I guess. He blackmails me into doing petty favours for him, sends me these weird ass texts, he threatens my ma…”
He Tian raised a single eyebrow at that. “And you let him.”
Good. Be disappointed.
“We were friends as kids.” Guan Shan looked up at the ceiling, the blank white. “Fist fights are one thing, but him…I couldn't believe he had it in him to be like this.” Roughly around the time that realisation had kicked in, the veils of the world had been drawn to Guan Shan, revealing its rotting insides…
“Yeah,” scoffed He Tian. “Psychos are like that. I doubt that creep was barely human even before his dad died.”
“Sure, I guess.” More like, he hoped.
“We aren't our fathers, Little Mo. And thank f*ck for that.”
The bell rang, and the sound was some pretentious orchestra music. He Tian stood up. “Food's here!”
───☆───
They ate the chicken, with He Tian on the couch and Guan Shan on the floor in front. He Tian had said aloud some words and rows of tiny lights embedded in the ceiling had turned on. He still wasn't wearing a shirt.
He Tian practically scarfed down his food, just so he could watch him eat, like a f*cking weirdo. Except Guan Shan was getting used to the idiot’s strange tendencies, slowly but surely.
He Tian winked when he saw Guan Shan’s eyes met his own. Fine, perhaps ‘getting used to’ might be a phrase used too soon. ‘Growing neutral towards him’ was a better choice.
He Tian said, once the food was over, “We have to discuss your homework. I promised auntie, and the school year’s getting over in two month’s.”
What an ass. Guan Shan shot him a scowl. “I'm gonna repeat anyway, if I don’t drop out. Mom's obsessed with this idea of me making it to college, so if I'm gonna make her mad, might as well do it now.”
“But…why not just go to college?”
Guan Shan dropped his plastic fork into the container. “I can't just go, f*cker. She thinks I don't know, but she puts all of her medicine money into a fund. As if the crazy woman didn't have a stroke last year.”
He Tian tapped his chin, as if it was obvious. “And me? What if I pay for your college?”
Guan Shan set the container on the ground, wiping his hands on his pants as he got up. He Tian eyed him impassively.
“You can't buy me off, chicken dick.”
“That's not what I meant.”
“I'll go now.”
“Little Mo! Don’t leave me! You know that’s not what I meant!”
But why else would He Tian want to help him?
Money had a life of its own. A life that could be snuffed out in an instant, and burned brightly when only it stood upright. He wished, for the first time, that he burned brightly, too. That he didn't have to worry all the time, didn't have to work endlessly towards a goal of which he had not a clue of.
