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What If… 1/7

Qinglang remembered meeting Changyang two years ago

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Changyang's fingers are still tingling from the massage when Qinglang grabs on to his wrist, fingers wrapping tightly to stop him from leaving.

Changyang looks at his hand and then at Qinglang who is staring at him with a look on his face that he hasn't seen before.

"I remember you," he says in a low voice, not quite accusing but on the verge of.

Changyang wants to act clueless about what he could mean, like he's been acting like he has no idea who Qinglang actually is, but there is something about the weight of his gaze and how open their previous conversation was that makes him feel like maybe, Qinglang wouldn't judge him too harshly if he tells just a bit of the truth.

"Do you?" He asks.

Qinglang nods his head, "The night that I won my award. I don't remember much of what happened after the celebrations, but I do remember you, your shoulders, your face, your eyes."

Changyang inclines his head, and answers the question he can see brewing in his eyes, "I was doing family a favor."

"Family?" Qinglang questions, tilting his head to the side a little, and then his eyes widen a bit. "Xu Changyang. You're Wenshu's little brother?"

"Half-brother," Changyang corrects automatically.

Qinglang scoffs at that and then seems to notice that he's still holding on to Changyang's wrist and lets go.

Changyang's entire arm feels tingly and warm, and he flexes his fingers like that would help get rid of the feeling.

"Wenshu was on the phone with me the entire time," Qinglang says slowly, but doesn't ask the obvious question.

Changyang exhales carefully, and sits on the bed once again. He looks to Qinglang, who is giving him a slightly wary look and the last thing that Changyang wants is for him to be afraid of him.

"I had just watched one of your movies," he says, giving him a half smile. "And I wanted to see what you were like in person."

"You could've gone to a fan event," Qinglang says, and Changyang can see him clenching the top sheet between his hands.

Changyang shakes his head, "I wanted the real you, not the you you play in front of everyone else."

"And you think you got that that night?" Qinglang asks, eyebrows raised.

"Yeah," Changyang answers, because he'd gotten more than he'd expected that night.

Qinglang nods his head slowly, "And?"

"I found you a little dismissive," Changyang starts honestly, causing Qinglang's eyes to widen in shock. "Kind of selfish, a rowdy drunk, someone who holds on to a grudge for years, stronger than you look, tired, lonely, surprisingly-"

Changyang stops talking, looking away from Qinglang, taking a deep breath before he turns back to him.

Qinglang was still looking at him with wide eyes, almost like he'd expected Changyang to talk about his physical appearance. And the truth was that Changyang had found him beautiful that night, almost mesmerizing, but he had already known that he was beautiful. Meeting him in person didn't shake that impression.

"Surprisingly what?" Qinglang asks, like the question isn't written all over his face.

Changyang smiles a little at that, "A bit like a bear."

Qinglang scoffs, and moves like he's gonna hit him, but Changyang grabs his hand before he can make contact.

"A bear?" He questions incredulously. "What's with the bear comparisons?"

Changyang's smile widens, "You bit me."

Qinglang's brow furrows, "I don't remember that."

Changyang leans in a little, talking in a lower voice like they're in public and he wants to keep his words a secret, "I can recreate it for you if you want."

Qinglang's eyes widen once again, and his face goes a little slack.

"Recreate it?"

Changyang hums in agreement, fingers tightening a little around Qinglang's wrist, "I'll play you. You'll be me. Let me set the scene."

He urges Qinglang to get to his feet, and lies down on the bed, letting his feet dangle off the edge as he closes his eyes. He can hear Qinglang's too quick breathing, and it seems to be the only noise in the entire world.

"You fell asleep. I was trying to take your shoes off and get you under the covers."

"So even then, you were like this," Qinglang says, almost to himself.

Changyang opens his eyes and leans up on his elbows to look at Qinglang, who was standing by his feet. "Like what?"

"Sweet," Qinglang says as he reaches forward and tugs one of Changyang's boots off. "And accommodating."

Changyang wiggles his toes a little, "I never did manage to get your shoes off."

Qinglang just smiles as he tugs the other boot off, "I'm improvising."

"Do you improvise a lot while you work?"

"What do you think?"

"I think that you're very good at your job," Changyang says, feeling a little breathless. "It would be easy to blur the lines between reality and fiction."

"I think you should get on with the rest of the recreation."

Changyang sits up at that, and stares at him for a long second before he turns to look at where the top sheet of the bed is rucked up in the corner, "I tried to pull the sheet out from underneath you, and you sat up. I thought for a moment that you were awake, but you didn't say anything, so I was going to push you back to lie down."

Qinglang steps in closer, and puts one hand to Changyang's shoulder, Changyang grabs his wrist as soon as he makes contact with his skin, and falls back on the bed, dragging Qinglang on top of him.

He can feel the skip of Qinglang's heartbeat against his fingertips as he drops his other hand to the mattress to stop himself from actually falling onto Changyang's chest.

Changyang closes his eyes, feeling a bit dizzy at the proximity, something he's not used to even though he's been closer to Qinglang's face the last day than he's been close to anyone else in his entire life.

Changyang lets go of Qinglang's wrist and reaches up, fingers slowly pressing to Qinglang's cheek and sliding to his neck, before he tugs him down a little, just enough that Changyang can feel his breath on his face. He moves his hand down, and his hand stops right on the curve of Qinglang's shoulder, he'd forgotten for a moment that Qinglang was shirtless.

They stay like that for a long moment just breathing against each other.

"Changyang," Qinglang breathes out, something that sounds like a statement, a question, and a plea all in one.

Changyang lets his eyes open to slits, as he tilts his head a little, seeing the dazed look on Qinglang's face, makes it easy to move his hand, down his chest, and around to his upper back.

He pulls him down without any other warning and presses their mouths together, hard and just a little painful as he kisses him roughly, digging his teeth into Qinglang's plush bottom lip. He feels the same thrill he had back then, a tightening in the pit of his stomach, something that he'd never felt before and hadn't felt again until this moment.

Unlike how he'd reacted, Qinglang doesn't immediately try to pull away, he makes an obscene sound in the back of his throat, something that Changyang hasn't ever heard in any of the movies that he's seen, and lets himself fall on top of him, pressing the fingers of one hand to the side of Changyang's head as he changes the angle of the kiss and opens his mouth, pressing the tip of his tongue to Changyang's mouth.

Changyang inhales sharply, and wraps one arm around Qinglang's waist, pressing the fingers of his other hand to the side of his neck and pushing back a little.

Qinglang moves with the push, eyes half lidded as he breathes out hard.

Changyang stares at him for one breathless moment, heart pounding in his chest, wanting more than anything to believe that this was actually happening and not just a dream.

Qinglang was the first person he'd ever kissed, the first person he'd actually ever wanted. It had never really crossed his mind that Qinglang might actually want him back.

"That's not how it happened," Changyang says, as seriously as he can manage while sounding out of breath.

Qinglang just smiles and leans down until their noses are brushing.

"I was improvising," he says the words right into Changyang's mouth, giving him a quick kiss before pulling away and dropping down to the bed beside him.

He keeps one of his legs thrown across Changyang's thigh, and Changyang just stares at the ceiling, fighting with the urge to just follow Qinglang and kiss him again.

"I'm hungry," Qinglang announces decisively, pushing his elbow against Changyang's arm.

Changyang licks his lips, inhaling deeply as he turns his head to face Qinglang.

Qinglang is already looking at him, a careful look on his face, like he's waiting for Changyang to change the way that he treats him, like everything before was just an act.

"Demanding," Changyang says, knowing it's going to throw Qinglang off initially, but that he'd get it as he kept speaking. "Phone addict, still troublesome while drunk."

With every word he speaks, Changyang moves a little bit closer, until there's only a breadth of space between them.

Qinglang is still staring at him, but his face is a little slack now.

"Less tired," Changyang continued, reaching with one hand to press a finger to Qinglang's cheek. "Still lonely."

Qinglang breathes out shakily and grabs Changyang's hand, pulling it away from his face and squeezing his fingers tightly, "A little less lonely, now."

Changyang smiles and leans just a little bit closer, nudging the tips of their noses together.

"Still a bit of a bear though," he whispers a little mischievously.

Qinglang makes a scoffing sound and pushes Changyang backwards, until he's shoving him off the bed. Changyang laughs and barely feels the pain as he lands on the floor on his back, rolling a little from side to side as he does.

He grins as he looks up and sees Qinglang staring down at him, a small smile playing around the corners of his mouth. His hair is messy and he looks like he could sleep for another twelve hours, but his eyes are bright and shining, and it makes something melt in the pit of Changyang's stomach.

He pulls his phone out quickly, and is snapping a picture before Qinglang can move, and smiles at his screen before he looks back at Qinglang, who is still looking at him with the same bright eyes, an even softer expression on his face.

"Aren't you going to cook for me?"

Changyang let's his phone fall to his chest, pressing his hand over it, and just looks at him for a long moment, before he smiles and nods his head.

"Anything you want."