If we get some QuiCheng action before a real ZhanYi kiss that would be CRAZY. If that happened I guess it would be saving the OG for last 🤩.
Its like: tianshan kiss, tianshan kiss 2.0, then ZhanyYi kiss- 💀
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If we get some QuiCheng action before a real ZhanYi kiss that would be CRAZY. If that happened I guess it would be saving the OG for last 🤩.
Its like: tianshan kiss, tianshan kiss 2.0, then ZhanyYi kiss- 💀
Qui
New official art by OldXian
Complete collection of official 19 days art updated.
Wait why he got a knife??
Samson
https://open.spotify.com/track/6d9QsF5RcK3kwrkjLcDinf?si=d3c40495adc44179
to @itssomekindofheaven who asked #13 for QuiCheng !!
. . .
Samson by Regina Spektor
You are my sweetest downfall I loved you first, I loved you first Beneath the stars came fallin’ in our heads But they’re just old light, they’re just old light Your hair was long when we first met
. . .
Qui wanders around the headquarters, it was surprisingly quiet today, no teenagers causing havoc, no missions to finish immediately, no kidnappings, even the hallways that always seemed to be brimming with people were almost bare. Still, he relishes in these kinds of days, when he can just lay back a little and wind down.
Without thinking, his feet drag him to the bar further down the lower hallways, it was a bar specifically made for mafiosos so they can drink their woes away without being confronted by the law. He sits down on his usual seat, giving a nod to the bartender who only glances at him before preparing his drink. He was a regular enough here that all the bartenders knows his usual order afterall.
With nothing to do, his mind wanders to He cheng, as it always seems to do, and he lets it. It’s been more than a decade since he started working with the stoic ravenette, years since they started working as partners. In those years they somehow managed to build a-not-quite-friends but not-quite-strangers-either relationships. There’s no friends in the mafia after all. Much less anything more.
He was momentarily broken off from his thoughts when someone took a seat next to him. He cheng always sits like royalty, Qui muses, back straight and shoulders tight like someone was always judging his posture even in a place for relaxation.
He belatedly notes that his drink had already been served, the circular ice melting off in the whiskey. He runs his finger along the rim of the glass absentmindedly.
“Didn’t expect to see you here.” He says simply as He Cheng orders his own drink.
He cheng gives a hum of acknowledgement to his words as he answers simply,
“I had some free time.”
They sit in companionable silence, and Qui lets his mind wander again. He wonders briefly if He cheng ever lets himself get lost in his thoughts, and if he was ever in his mind. These days he always seems so far away.
He resets his memory to when they first met, he was only 16 then, a fresh drop-out of high school, too arrogant and impulsive for his own good. He never had a good role model anyway, his parents were drunkards plunging them into a debt they’ll never be able to pay-off.
. . .
He remembers getting jumped at an alleyway by men twice his size, and he tried to fight them off and he almost won too, if one of the bastards didn’t take out a knife and stabbed him in the side. What was it again? Never bring a knife in a fist fight? Well thugs didn’t have principles, he learned.
The last thing he sees before he passes out is cold black eyes, as black as the spots he sees when his father hits him over the head with a beer bottle, staring down at him like some kind of god. For a moment he sees light, before everything plunges into darkness.
When he comes to it’s in an unfamiliar room, sterilized white like a hospital but not quite, the same black eyes staring at him. Of course his first reaction was to panic, throwing a fist at the intruder who simply, easily, caught it in his own hand like it was nothing. He learns the stranger's name as He Cheng, he saved him from the thugs and brought him to their headquarters. (“What do you mean headquarters?” “Exactly what it means. It’s a headquarter.”)
He learns about the mafia, what it does, and how it works, and the first rule in the mafia he learned even before he got in: Nothing is done without reason and no kindness is done without anything in return.
So that’s how he signed off his life to his savior and to the mafia.
. . .
“Hey.” He calls out, giving a side-glance at the man watching the ice melt off on his own drink.
“I don’t know if I ever asked you before, but why did you save me back then?”
“You did. I answered it then too.”
Qui rolls his eyes at the dismissive answer.
“Then tell me again. Not all of us have perfect memory, you know.”
“Because I thought you had potential to be in the mafia.”
“Is that all?”
“Did you want another answer?”
Qui paused at that. Was he looking for another answer? What was he looking for exactly? He doesn’t think he knows either.
He vaguely remembers having this conversation before, when he was much younger, more innocent to the workings of the dark world. A mafioso in training, too curious and eager to know everything.
. . .
“Why did you save me?” He asked then.
“Because you looked like you needed saving.” The He cheng of then answered.
. . .
He looked at the man again as the memory in his head ended.
“You didn’t say the same thing back then.”
“We were different back then.” He cheng answers, voice devoid of any emotion, spoken true as someone who has closed himself off to the man sitting beside him and the world.
‘We were different back then.’
Ah. Qui thought, how could he forget. About the stolen kisses at midnight, the laughs shared over whiskey and wine bottles on a bedroom floor, about scattered clothes and one-time fucks turned many. The butterflies in his stomach that eventually turned to wasps in his stomach, destroying his insides as the man he loved, he despised, he longed for, grew farther and farther away. It seems so long ago now.
‘That’s right. We were different back then.’
He raises his glass to his lips and takes a sip. He always thought heartache tastes a lot like whiskey, it burns and it’s bitter. He keeps drinking.
“Qui,” He cheng starts, and Qui turns to look at him. There was hesitation in his voice, eyes cold but there was familiarity in them; for a moment Qui sees the 16 year-old boy in the alleyway. He sees the same light flicker back to life, if only for a moment, before it dies before his very eyes.
“Don’t let anyone be your downfall. You might not get saved this time.” The message was clear. He cheng leaves without another word and Qui lets him, he’s left a long time ago.
“Idiot, you’ve been my downfall since you saved me the first time.” Qui mutters as he takes another sip.
The whiskey tastes bitter on his tongue.
2 things :
I love how the boys are just hanging out, chilling, good vibes, opening up to each other 🖤🧡💛🤍 ! I love them ❤️
He cheng wants Qui bro to get a taste for expensive stuff... he’s basically He chengs sugar BABY ! I STAN ! I SHIP ! I LIVE !! ( I know I am reaching but I don’t care ! )
The fanarts about He Cheng and brother Qiu are getting wild and sexier after the last update 🥳
..i liked every one of them 😝
my whole timeline: BOTTOM HE CHENG BOTTOM HE CHENG BOTTOM HE CHENG, BROTHER QUI AN ULTIMATE TOP
me: may i humbly suggest... switch he cheng?.. giving up control when he feels like it... being in control when he feels like it... think about it
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