View to Kill - 2
19 days fic.
He Tian/Xi/Jian Yi/Mo
<3 saying i missed writing these characters would be an understatement. oh my god, why are they so passionate about EVERYTHING and why is it like breathing to play with them? <3 <3
Part one on ao3. SOOOOOOO ADULT.
tags: sex, violence, obsession, pining, voyeurism, poly, rarepair, idiots navigating feelings
View to Kill - 2
The guy pointed a gun at Xi’s head, the barrel between his eyes, and Xi stared back.
His lip throbbed, bleeding down his chin, and his ribs ached from the other guy’s boot.
“Call him. Beg him to save you,” the stranger said.
Xi bared teeth, hoping they were bloody. It would look scarier if his teeth were painted red. “You call him. Beg him to spare you.”
He grinned when the guy took the gun away from his head. He’d known he wasn’t going to pull the trigger… And then he hit him across the face with the metal instead, throwing him to the floor.
Xi tried to get up, tried to crawl, but another guy was on him too fast, working his boot in his side again and throwing him across sleek hardwood. He saw the blood and his first dazed thought was that they were making a mess of Tian’s apartment. He rolled onto his stomach and tried to get up again, just enough to crawl, if he could get to the couch… A hand fisted in his hair, arching his neck back and lifting him off the floor.
-One Month Earlier-
Zhengxi woke up slowly, wrung out and achy but somehow feeling so good. And then he felt a body against his back, skin to skin, and an arm curled around him. He was being spooned. His eyes opened. Who the fuck would—
He recognized the room, expensive but minimal, and then he remembered the night before. It had been the best sex of his life and it had been with his best-friend. Oh fuck.
Had he really just ruined the best relationship he’d ever had? He Tian was his friend. Yes, they’d messed around a handful of times over the years, but they hadn’t been friends-with-benefits. They’d been friends, always and before anything else. Now? Now this man was spooning him in his luxury apartment. Fuck. Fuckfuckfuck.
The arm around him squeezed and then loosened a little. “You’re thinking so loudly…” He Tian complained, voice a grumble against the back of his hair.
Xi felt the weight of this moment. Whatever he said next would define a part of them forever. He could destroy everything if he said the wrong thing. And everything that pushed to the tip of his tongue felt like the wrong thing. “You don’t own me,” was the first blade pushing against the back of his teeth. “You brought me here to entertain your window friends, you don’t need to pretend when they’re not looking,” felt jagged when he swallowed it back. Was he resentful now? He had wanted this. He had loved it. And now? Now he wanted to blow up the moment and run from the fallout.
What the fuck was wrong with him?
He always did this.
He didn’t just push people away, Xi burned bridges and made the people who got too close hate him for it. He had managed not to do it with He Tian. They’d been friends for nearly a decade.
Zhengxi got out of bed, looking for his clothes.
“Xi?” He Tian’s voice was low, an edge of worry now.
His clothes were folded on the dresser where he’d left them before showering last night—before walking out to the living room turned stage.
The times they’d hooked up before had always been good, verging on great, but never like that. Never the sort of sex that was going to cast a shadow of disappointment over all future partners. It made him want to stay. It made him want to jump on He Tian for round two right here and now.
But Xi wasn’t the sort to be spooned and he definitely wasn’t going to be locked in another relationship with some rich, possessive asshole—
“Xi,” He Tian snapped his name this time.
He looked up, breaking out of his own spiraling thoughts and realized that those thoughts weren’t fair. He Tian wasn’t his ex. He Tian had never done anything out of line. He wasn’t trying to control him. He wasn’t even trying to date him. They’d just hooked up again. It was nothing.
Why did that hurt, though?
He scrubbed a hand over his face. He had his underwear and pants on, even if they weren’t zipped up yet. “Yeah. Yeah, sorry, I just didn’t mean to sleep over.”
He Tian was off the bed and closing the distance, looking him over like he could read him.
It made his heart pound—the idea of being able to be read and, worse, of wanting this man to be able to read him. He wanted that distance closed. He wanted to touch him.
Like he could hear that want, He Tian reached out for him.
Xi took a step back and hated himself the second he did.
He Tian’s dark eyes flared the slightest bit, his hand stopping in the air between them before falling to his side. “You’ve slept over before. It’s never been a problem…”
“I know.”
He Tian nodded slowly, not backing up but not trying to grab him either. “Xi… What the fuck is happening right now?” he asked it like it was any other question—like he had all the time in the world for an answer.
Xi felt like there was a door inside of him that was bolted shut, like a part of him was beating against the other side, trying to explain, but nothing could make it out. He’d said nothing so as not to ruin this, not to hurt He Tian, but the silence had done it anyway.
He closed his eyes, trying to find the words and hating every second that got away from him.
“Do you regret last night?” He Tian asked, his voice so solid and easy–like no answer was the wrong answer.
Zhengxi shook his head, opening his eyes to look at his friend again. “No.” He’d never lied to him before. He wouldn’t start now.
He Tian’s shoulders eased a little, like he’d been worried but he believed him. “Okay. But this…” He looked back at the bed, a smirk tugging one side of his mouth. “This was too much?”
Xi shot him a glare but he felt something inside of him relax a fraction, grabbing at this sense of normalcy. “Yeah.”
He Tian smiled outright. “So…”
“Shut up.”
“You can suck and fuck in front of a couple of strangers…”
“He Tian…”
“But waking up snuggling had you running for the door?” He Tian laughed, the sound of it so warm that it finally washed away the last of that fight or flight instinct pushing through Xi’s veins. “And I thought I was messed up…”
“Fuck you.”
“Any time.” He Tian took that last step into his space. He deftly buttoned Xi’s pants and then dragged the zipper up. His dark gaze flicked up from the fly to Zhengxi’s eyes. “If it’s too much, or too fast, we’ll stop. If you like this but you want to talk about it, we can…”
“Talk about what?” he asked, skin warmer with He Tian this close.
The other man smiled, like that question was an answer. “You want to stick around, hang out in front of my window, and keep fucking?”
“I don’t live here.”
“But you’re always welcome.”
Xi looked around the room and at the window. Why was it so hard to accept something he wanted? Because it could go to shit? Because just because he liked it now, didn’t mean he’d like it later. What if it changed? What if He Tian changed?
“Tell me what the problem is,” he said. “Tell me what’s happening in there,” he poked Xi’s temple.
Xi curled his lip in a mock snarl but finally nodded. They were friends. He’d try. “I can’t…” No, that wasn’t the right way to start. “I liked it. I liked it a lot. And I like…” He looked at He Tian and then away. “This. I just can’t do another serious relationship.”
He Tian was quiet for a beat. Would he be upset? What would that look like now? They’d argued before but it felt like they’d crossed a line in their friendship last night. Would arguing be different now? Would it taste like knuckles?
“Okay.”
Xi looked up at him, surprised.
He Tian opened the dresser beside Xi and pulled out a pair of underwear. “What does ‘serious’ mean for you?”
“What?” Xi watched him pull on the black boxer briefs and then a pair of his pants.
“What do you not want from this? What are your lines?” He clawed the hair out of his face and headed toward the door. “Come on, I’ll make coffee.”
Xi followed, more than a little surprised how easy He Tian was making this conversation–not that he should have been. He Tian negotiated lives with murderers, why couldn’t he handle this? He paused in the living room, eyes trailing over the spot where they’d fucked last night and then drifting out the window, to the other apartment. The morning light in between and the shadows on the other side made it harder to see than it had been the night before. The blond was asleep on the couch, sprawled out with his leg up over the back and his head almost off the cushion. He was one move away from falling off.
It was hard to look away–to not wonder about him. Something in his chest pulled–wanting.
Xi groaned and rubbed a hand over his face again, pushing past the window to follow He Tian into the kitchen. What did he want? What did he not want? “If we keep doing this… we’re still friends.”
He Tian was at his espresso machine but he paused to look at him. “We’re always friends.”
“I’m not doing anything I don’t want to do. You don’t own me. I leave when I want to leave.”
He Tian went still again. Xi’s heart slammed his ribs but he gave nothing away in his face. He was giving enough away with his words. He Tian moved very slowly, palms to the marble counter between them, pressing subtly. He nodded. “There’s no other way I’d want it.”
As soon as he said it, Xi knew he’d needed to hear it. He exhaled and broke eye contact first. He knew his friend was clever. “Don’t ask about it,” he added, pulling out one of the barstools to wait for his coffee.
He Tian didn’t move for another second, that sharp smile of his pulling at one side of his mouth before he nodded and pushed off the counter. He made their coffees and didn’t ask.
Xi knew their friendship was a strange one, even before adding this window fetish…
He knew what He Tian did–about the family he belonged to. But he also knew sometimes the people that looked good on paper were the monsters…so why couldn’t the reverse be true? It had been true with He Tian. He was a fucking monster on paper, but Xi had never had a better friend.
He swiveled around in his seat to look at the living room, and that window. “So…who are they?”
He Tian huffed. “No idea.”
Xi looked over his shoulder at his friend, eyebrow raised skeptically. “You didn’t have anyone look into them?”
He Tian shook his head. “Don’t even know his name, and the blond is new.”
“How long are you planning to do this?”
“Do what?”
Xi rolled a hand at the living room.
He Tian smiled. “As long as it lasts, I guess.” He put his mug on the counter and slid it to him. “Have any ideas?”
“Plenty,” he admitted.
And that was how it started for Xi, that was how he ended up in a stranger four-way relationship with two men he didn’t know just out of reach.
Soon he was spending more time at He Tian’s place than his own. He was leaving clothes and bringing groceries. He went days without even dropping by his own place and had more or less made the guest room his own space.
He had his own key from a year or two back but this was the first time he’d really used it like his own. Sometimes he came in and He Tian wasn’t even home.
Sometimes they didn’t even do anything sexual with the others, they just existed alongside each other–watching each other.
Last week, Xi had had the idea to throw a party.
He Tain had been understandably surprised. Xi never threw parties. He didn’t even really like attending them. But he’d gotten this idea… he wanted to tempt them into coming over. He got the idea when the blond on the other side had teased him, edging and edging and then winked and just sat down and refused to finish–refused to continue.
So He Tian threw a party, lights and music pulsing out of the apartment.
Xi caught both of the other guys watching from their apartment, but it was the blond that leaned against the glass, catching his gaze as if to ask what he was up to. Xi had shrugged, and mimicked offering him a drink.
He wanted him to come over. He wanted him to walk through that door.
The blond smiled but didn’t move.
Xi shrugged, downed the drink and then went back to the party–like he wasn’t always in front of the window–like he wasn’t always feeling that blond watching him. He’d even let a guy flirt with him that he wouldn’t have usually. Let him get a little handsy. When he looked over at the other apartment the redhead and blond were talking, maybe even arguing. The redhead laughed and shook his head and the blond looked pissed but went back to the window. He glared daggers at the guy with Xi, like he could will him off of him.
He Tian walked over and scared the stranger away, leaning into Xi’s side to speak softly against his ear. “Are you looking to get laid or just to piss him off?”
“Who?”
He Tian laughed. “I’ve never seen this side of you, Xi…”
Zhengxi scoffed. “You’ve seen every side of me.”
Later that night, when the party was over, He Tian fucked him up against that window to their mirror partners on the other side and Xi held that blond’s gaze the whole time, wondering what he’d feel like, imagining him too.
“I think I’m going insane,” Xi admitted the next morning.
He Tian was getting dressed but stopped to look at him, eyebrow raised.
“I think I’m going to go over there…”
He looked honestly surprised. “Really?”
Xi bared teeth and flopped back onto the bed. “No.” He hated losing. He’d started a weird game and he wanted to win. He wanted to make the blond cross the line and come over.
He Tian laughed. “We can start blue balling them until they give up.”
Xi exhaled hard through his teeth at the idea. It had occurred to him, of course, but it would be a cold war if they started…
-
Jian Yi was never going to move out of Mo’s apartment. Never. This was the greatest relationship of his life. It was also the weirdest one, and that was saying something.
He was obsessed.
He knew damn well what the blond over there was trying to do, too. He also knew he’d sort of started it. He wanted to close the distance and he’d thought he could nudge the other do to it. He’d been fucking wrong.
He’d almost snapped when they’d had the party. Mo had refused to let him go over there, even when some random guy was crowding their blond. He’d been about ready to throw a chair at the window.
His hair was still wet from the shower when he walked out to the living room and sat on the couch. Mo was already at work. He watched the dark haired guy get ready to leave and waved when he looked his way. That guy had a killer smile. It was sharp, like he probably smiled when he was being mean just as often as when he was being nice.
He and Mo had played at guessing who they thought these guys were–at names that might fit them and jobs they might have. Jian Yi had counted the floors and guessed the apartment number but Mo wasn’t budging on the “no going over there” rule. He didn’t want to ruin it. Jian Yi understood that. He’d be lying if he said he hadn’t thought about that risk.
The sandy blond walked into the living room over there. He didn’t look at the window right away. He rubbed the back of his neck, crossing Jian Yi’s view on his way to the kitchen.
In that window, he could see the whole living room, the front door on the far side of it, and the entrance of the hallway he assumed led to the bedrooms off to the right.
At this point, he thought he knew that apartment just as well as Mo’s. It was bigger, more expensive, with furniture that looked like it had come right out of a catalogue.
Jian Yi had been in plenty of places like that but this was the first time he wanted to be. He craved more of them. He wanted to watch the blond make his breakfast, not just eat it. He wanted to know what it was. He wanted to touch him–to run his fingers up the back of his neck and see if he shivered.
Mo could continue like this forever, but Jian Yi couldn’t. The only thing that had kept him from going over there this last month was his redhead. Mo wouldn’t say why he was so firm about that no-contact rule, but Jian Yi knew what it was. He was afraid it would ruin things. He wouldn’t believe that the hot-as-hell dark haired guy in that other building would still be into him if he actually met him. It was absurd. It was wrong. But it was hard to convince Mo that he was desirable as more than sexy window dressing.
The blond on the other side walked into the living room, breakfast bowl in hand, and sat in a chair across from him. He smiled. It was small and a little daring. Jian Yi needed to know his name. He needed to hear his voice. He needed to know him in a way he’d never needed to know anyone in his life.
“I think I’m in love,” Jian Yi said to a man who couldn’t hear him.
The blond raised an eyebrow.
Jian Yi smiled.
And then the front door on that far wall burst open. Jian Yi couldn’t hear it but it must have been loud because his blond was out of his chair, dropping his bowl and turning toward the three men walking into the apartment.
Jian Yi had never seen them before. He didn’t realize he’d stood up too but he had. His heart beat in his throat. Everything about this was wrong.
His blond held out his hands as if to calm them, mouth moving fast.
They had guns, two of them rushing down the hall toward the bedroom while the third stayed, talking to Xi. Arguing? And then the big guy hit his blond, throwing him into a wall.
Jian Yi bolted. His heart pounded with new panic the second his eyes weren’t on the scene anymore but he couldn’t stand there and watch. He couldn’t helplessly pound fists to the glass. He was out the front door and down the hall. Fuck the elevator. He was down the stairs.
Seconds ticked in his head.
How much damage could be done in a second? How much could he lose?
He wasn’t sure he’d ever run so hard in his life.
Daylight felt blinding when he left the lobby and darted across the street, cars squealing to a stop and honking. He went into the adjacent building. Someone tried to stop him, tried to yell at him, but he hopped a desk and didn’t bother with the elevators here either.
Had he counted the floors right?
Would he even be able to find the apartment?
Jian Yi came out on the floor and didn’t stop running. He went straight for that open doorway just as a large figure was pushing it shut, voices and shouts inside muffling. It almost latched–almost–and then Jian Yi was shouldering his way through it and into the very surprised man on the other side.
He threw an elbow into his face, feeling as well as hearing bone crunch.
And then he was there, in that apartment, on the other side of the glass he’d been watching for a month.
It was nothing like he’d expected.
There were strangers on the set, a side table and lamp were overturned, and blood smeared across the floor. For a split second, he took it all in, and met the eyes of his blond. His bloody mouth twitched with a smirk and Jian Yi knew what he was thinking…he’d won. Jian Yi smiled back, winked, and then climbed over the couch and launched himself at one of the two men towering over his blond on their stage.