Work Text:
For Ao Bing, a call of a conch shell takes precedence over everything. He casts his studies aside without a second thought, arriving at the beach where Nezha is waiting.
"Hey." Nezha turns towards him, no shuttlecock to be seen, and Ao Bing's breath catches in his throat.
Is this what you called me out for?
His eyes are lined with coal-black wings, the horizon to the sunset on his upper lids and the glimmering ocean on his lower ones. There's something softer about the sharp angles of his cheekbones, the disheveled locks of his hair, and it's—
It's achingly beautiful, and the fact that it's Nezha makes it even more so.
He continues to sweep his gaze across his face, pausing over the coral-tinged lips set in a defensive scowl.
They look soft, too, he thinks.
Then his view is obscured by familiar hands. "Say something. If... if you don't want to be friends anymore, just say so!" Ridiculous. As if he would abandon him, when the very thought sounds like it tore Nezha's chest open and plucked his heartstrings like one would on a guqin, the tremors travelling from his voice to his fingertips.
Ao Bing's heart goes out to him—or maybe that's not quite right, because it has long since belonged to Nezha—when he says, quietly, "I won't get mad, if it's you."
Gently, gingerly, he wraps his fingers around his wrists and brings their arms down together. Nezha lets him, almost as if in surrender, his appearance strangely vulnerable, eyelashes fanning out restlessly.
"Don't you know that you are my only friend?" Ao Bing lets go, flicking Nezha's forehead in playful reproach. "Even if that changes one day, and our world changes beyond anything we can possibly imagine, we will always be friends."
He's met with only silence.
Confused, he asks, "Did you not hear what I said? I can repeat it if you—"
"Stop it, stop it!" Nezha's inconspicuous anklet unravels, revealing its true form as the Huntian Silk, and fashions itself into a red curtain around him. "I'll cry and destroy all my hard work. I'm an ugly crier, you know!"
The corners of his lips curve up. As expected as someone as creative as Nezha. Never ceasing to find unconventional methods that no other would think of.
Experimentally, he tries to lift the curtain, but it stubbornly remains shut. Much like its owner, he thinks, amused. "May I look?"
"You already did," he points out, tone edged with something that was almost sullen indignation, but not quite.
"Ah," Ao Bing says, for the lack of a better thing to say. Caught red-handed—except, he's pretty sure Nezha called him out here because he wanted him to look. Changing your mind so quickly, are you a human or the sea?
"That's fine," he decides. Echoing Nezha's words from before, he says, "I can wait, if it's you."
(Ao Bing doesn't dwell on the fact that it resembles a love confession, if one were to look at it from a certain angle. Sincere that he is, but he doesn't think much. Nezha, on the other hand, thinks too much. Way too much.
As in, what the HELL, did Shen Gonggong secretly put you up to this, knowing full well it would kill me, wait no he isn't smart enough, and is this the future hardships and adversity you were talking about, Master, because a fucking warning would've been nice, I'm definitely messing with your favorite wine the next time I see you, you lying baldy!
In short, Taiyi Zhenren did not sign up for this hormonal bullshit when he offered to take Nezha as an apprentice, but will sadly suffer the consequences anyway.)
Finally, the Huntian Silk shrinks, transforming back into an anklet. He juts out his chin, jaw tensing. "Look all you want. See if I care. I don't care about what others think about me. Not you, not anyone."
"I know." Rather, you care too much for your own good sometimes. You care with all of your heart on the line. Not even the villagers' scorn could change that. "Your tenacity is part of what makes you so extraordinary."
"Ew." Heat climbs up from his neck to the tips of his ears. "I hate it when you get mushy."
"Someone has to be the honest one in this friendship."
"Hey!" he protests, more out of reflex than anything. Then realization dawns, and he jabs an accusing finger at Ao Bing. "What are you implying, huh? That I'm lying? It's true, I really do hate it! It's even worse than my mom making heart shapes with her arms!"
"Like this?" he demonstrates. The sleeves make it a bit awkward, but he manages.
"ARGH! I'm gonna die again, this time out of sheer embarrassment, and it'll be. All. Your. Fault."
"Stay still. How am I supposed to look when you keep moving around?"
"Don't laugh," he grumbles, but finally stays put. His defenses rise again. "It's unsightly, isn't it? For a boy to look like... to be like this."
"I don't understand. What's wrong?" Concerned, he reaches out to smooth the wrinkles on his brow, but Nezha jerks away at the last second and Ao Bing's fingers accidently brush his lips. Hm, they're not as soft as I thought, but still soft, he notes. Unconsciously, his thumb skims across them, smudging the pink lipstick.
Nezha bats his hand away, blushing so hard that a basket of xiaolongbao could be steamed on his head. "Don't touch!"
Inspecting the shimmering residue on his finger, he wonders aloud, "War paint?"
"Ha!" He doubles over with laughter, wiping away the tears that are half-relieved, half-hysterical. It messes up his makeup further. Bitterly, he quips, "Whore paint, more like."
Ao Bing doesn't notice, too focused on the possibility of war on Chentangguan's borders, the horrifying implications for his best friend and his home. "Did you come to tell me that you're going to war? I thought this was a relatively peaceful land." He grips Nezha's shoulders, because what if it's the last time he'll be able to, and this isn't what he was picturing when he said if our world changes, damn it! He won't have a best friend anymore if he, in body and spirit and everything in between, is dead. Death is an absolute, and they were lucky to barely escape it after the Heavenly Calamity. They might not be so lucky again.
I can't lose you.
"If you ever find yourself in need of help, call me. I swear I'll come for you."
But if I come too late, what then? His grip tightens. No, that won't happen. Father and Master may not understand, but I can't lose you.
As Ao Bing is spiraling into thoughts of war and what he would choose, filial piety or Nezha, should it come to that again—
Nezha awkwardly wriggles out of his hold, careful to not use too much strength. He feels a bit like an eel. A really, really ugly eel. "Calm down!"
It's more to himself than Ao Bing. His heart doesn't seem to care, determined to beat its way out of his chest. Unhelpful little bastard.
Helpless, he can't help but think. Nezha stamps it out ruthlessly. He isn't some helpless, swooning love interest like the ones in Mom's books, or the hopelessly smitten boy that she claimed that Dad was in his youth, which, gross. He doesn't want to hear about his parents' convoluted romance story. Worst source of advice ever.
"This stuff on my face isn't a declaration of war, idiot." It's now or never. Mustering up his courage, he takes the plunge. "It's a declaration of love."
Something ripples across Ao Bing's face, but it's gone before he can decipher what it could mean, or if it even existed in the first place. Carefully, he repeats, "A declaration of love."
Thankfully, his voice comes out steady. "Yeah."
He smiles softly, genuinely happy at the fortuitous news, because of course he is. It's not like Nezha was hoping for jealousy or anything. He's not, really, he swears.
"Congratulations, Nezha. I'm happy for you."
From annoying competition to best friend to temporary enemy, and now stupid crush... regardless, that doesn't stop the itch to throttle Ao Bing for his obliviousness.
Seriously, you're so stupid sometimes. No way I should like you this much, but here we are. The temptation to bury his face into his hands—all six of them—is real. Don't you know how to pay attention to the details?!
I have to do ALL the work here, he grouches, inexplicably fond.
"Not gonna ask who it is?"
"No. If you don't want to tell me, then I won't ask," he answers, with that dumb trusting expression that makes Nezha's brain turn to mush. Which is bad, considering he's the only one with a brain between the two of them.
Okay, maybe that's a little unfair, but still.
So. Stupid.
"It's you."
Ao Bing actually cranes his neck to look for the imaginary person who's supposed to receive that proclamation. As if it could be anyone other than him.
So, so stupid.
I love you so much that it hurts.
"Me?" he asks, all doe-eyed and handsome and shit.
"Yeah, you." Nezha rolls his eyes, self-consciously adjusting his makeup with a hastily-applied illusion. "Unfortunately."
"Ah." Apparently, Ao Bing reverts to monosyllables when surprised. That's cute as fuck and Nezha kinda wants to die. Not literally, you old pot-smoking fogies up there in the heavens, so don't even try.
Ao Bing's gaze flickers up to Nezha. He takes a breath, a step forward, and says, "I return your feelings."
Oh.
He doesn't want these pesky, awkward, excessive feelings. I expected this.
I expected this, so why do I feel like crying?
"Okay cool, I just wanted to get it off my chest. Thanks for listening. And not being weird about it. I'll..." He makes a vague gesture, blinking back tears. Shut up, you big crybaby. Taking advantage of Ao Bing's kindness like this... didn't you promise not to burden anyone anymore? You should've just kept it to yourself. Pathetic. What were you thinking, screwing up one of the best things you have in your life? "Take them. Out. Like trash, I guess. We're... we're still friends? We can still play jianzi together, right? Right?"
He hates himself for sounding so pathetic, but he has to know. If what Ao Bing had said before, would weather through... this.
"No." That tentative hope withers like wisteria in winter. There's no need for Ao Bing's ice here—one word alone is enough to freeze Nezha where he stands.
He wants to run, but can't. He wants to cry, but can't. He wants too much. Greedy. Always wanting what he can't have.
"No, listen to me," Ao Bing cuts in, dealing yet another cut to Nezha's heart.
Just leave me alone.
"I love you too," spills from his lips in a rush.
He stares at him, uncomprehending. Blank. "I don't need your pity. If you're worried that I won't be your friend anymore over some unimportant crush, don't. You don't have to pretend—"
"I'm not." Ao Bing swipes his thumb over his own lips, then pulls Nezha into a kiss. It's clumsy, determined, the brush of a hummingbird's wing, and over too soon. Nezha didn't even have the time to process it happening, never mind kissing him back.
"The color on your mouth, these feelings, everything that you've given me—I return them to you." He presses their foreheads together, Nezha's red and Ao Bing's blue aligning, and the last puzzle piece finally falls into place.
"You love me." Awe leaks out of him like water out a sieve. So does what little intelligence he's managed to scrounge up. "You really do."
"Unfortunately."
He throws his hands up in the air. "That's it, I'm leaving! You can't just say you love me and tease me in the same breath, Ao Bing, that's evil. Pure evil. Who do you think you are, huh? This young master won't tolerate being made fun of!"
"I did say that everything you've given me, I'll return to you." The tender light in his eyes is absolutely devious, and no amount of persuading will convince Nezha otherwise.
Shuddering, he remembers the time he used Ao Bing as an improvised battering ram. And the time he punted a beehive at him, thinking it was a shuttlecock. And the time he wrangled Ao Bing into flying in his dragon form with him, and may have accidentally leveled a small mountain or two in the process. And all the other times that he has undoubtedly forgotten.
He laughs weakly, discreetly doing a sign to ward off bad luck behind his back. Maybe it's useless, but it can't hurt to be careful.
Probably.
"I never did tell you that on that day, years ago, when you captured the sunset and ocean on your face, you looked lovelier than anything I could possibly imagine," Ao Bing muses, gracelessly sprawled over Nezha's bed in the Li manor.
He's incredibly beautiful. He's also incredibly drunk, because Taiyi Zhenren gifted them some chrysanthemum wine and told them it was cold medicine, that vindictive asshole.
Nezha resists the urge to scream. It comes out like a distressingly high-pitched whine instead.
Sloppily, Ao Bing peppers kisses on the inside of Nezha's wrist. "But this face, laid bare before me, I like it best."
"You're going to be the end of me."
"I'm going to be with you until the end."
Fucking hell, end me.
Defeated, he says, "Be quiet. I'm gonna invent a sobriety talisman. Like, right now. I can't take one minute longer with you like this."
"Okay," he agrees easily. "Love you."
"Love you too," Nezha mumbles back, cheeks burning, but Ao Bing's already fallen asleep.
Dumbass.