Work Text:
Wen Kexing is about to do something potentially ill-advised, but no one is around to stop him.
Though, to be fair, if his friends were still here studying with him, he’s not sure they’d have the power to prevent the inevitable trainwreck about to occur. Regardless, they’ve disappeared to the library’s one and only coffee shop, located two floors down, and Wen Kexing has been left entirely to his own devices.
He thinks it’s maybe a bad idea. They’ve never spoken, but Zhou Zishu doesn’t seem to particularly like Wen Kexing, if his eye rolls from afar are any indication. So there’s not a lot in their brief past interactions that leads Wen Kexing to believe this is a good idea.
But then again, Wen Kexing isn’t known for “good” ideas. And Zhou Zishu is so cute, even when—or maybe especially when?—he looks exasperated, and if Wen Kexing doesn’t capitalize on this opportunity of Zhou Zishu sitting at the table next to him right now, he’s going to keep imagining all the ways it could’ve gone for the next week straight.
That’s how he ends up sliding into the chair next to Zhou Zishu, grinning once he has the other man’s attention, and saying, in defiance of all good sense, “It’s a good thing I’ve got my library card, because I’d like to check you out.”
Zhou Zishu looks back at him with what Wen Kexing might describe as deep vexation and practically hisses, “You asshole!"
At that point, Wen Kexing almost falls out of the chair he’s so precariously perched on. Not because of the virulence with which Zhou Zishu made that statement, though that certainly might’ve been reasonable, but because those furious words are so familiar to Wen Kexing he literally sees them in his dreams sometimes. They are, of course, tattooed across his wrist, where he’s worn a bracelet for the last twenty years, courtesy of literally everyone’s displeasure with the profane nature of Wen Kexing’s soulmate tattoo.
“Wow,” Wen Kexing says, delighted. “So you’re the reason I got in trouble so much in elementary school for showing other kids my soulmate tattoo.” Wen Kexing has wondered, on no shortage of occasions, about the circumstances of these words being spoken to him, and this seems . . . about right, actually.
Zhou Zishu opens his mouth in—shock? Irritation? The realization that he’s in love with Wen Kexing and wants to be with him forever?—and retorts, “At least you haven’t spent your entire life with the worst pickup line in the world tattooed on you.”
“Hey,” Wen Kexing protests, but he’s smiling, because how could he not be smiling? He just found his soulmate. “That’s unfair. I have much worse pickup lines in my arsenal; I was just trying to follow the theme of being in a library.”
Zhou Zishu stops pinching the bridge of his nose long enough to gather his belongings and get to his feet. Wen Kexing watches, not sure if he is supposed to get his stuff and follow because Zhou Zishu has decided they should walk off into the sunset together or if this soulmate meeting is going sour(er than it already has). “I’m not dealing with you right now.” Ah, so the latter, then.
“Fate will reunite us!” Wen Kexing calls after Zhou Zishu, who does not turn around, but Wen Kexing swears he can see the tips of his soulmate’s ears turning red. Amazing.
~~~
“It’s me. I’m fate,” Wen Kexing says when Zhou Zishu opens his apartment door a couple days later (it had taken Wen Kexing a little time to find out where his soulmate lived).
Zhou Zishu promptly shuts the door.
~~~
“Oh, we meet again!” Wen Kexing says when he tries again the next day.
He barely gets the first word out before Zhou Zishu closes the door once again. Perhaps a new approach is in order.
~~~
“Okay,” Luo Fumeng says slowly, “so you basically gave him the dumbest soulmate tattoo possible and then he swore at you and walked away.”
“That’s . . . not inaccurate.”
“And then you stalked him?”
Wen Kexing tilts his head, considering. “I’m not sure I would call it stalking. I would characterize it as the divine intervention of fate, if fate was . . . me.”
Luo Fumeng gives him a long look. “And you plan to remedy this how, exactly?”
Wen Kexing may pout, a bit, at this point. Luo Fumeng is supposed to be hyping him up to win over his soulmate, not tearing him down. Honestly. You’re friends with someone for years and they can’t even pretend to be on your side. “I’m going to send him flowers! People love flowers.”
Luo Fumeng looks unfairly skeptical at Wen Kexing’s brilliant plan. “People hate flowers. They die and shed petals everywhere.”
“Well, just because you’re a cynic—”
“Wen Kexing,” Luo Fumeng interrupts sternly. “You’ve been obsessed with this guy since the semester started and the only time you’ve talked to him so far, you thought you should use a pickup line about libraries. Do you think, given how much he disliked that, that you should send him flowers?”
Wen Kexing opens his mouth and then closes it again. “Probably not,” he says finally, and sighs. Courtship is so difficult. Isn’t your soulmate supposed to see you and become immediately enamored and want to be with you forever? That’s what happened to Wen Kexing. He’s really gonna need Zhou Zishu to get with the program soon.
“Maybe you should find out what he likes,” Luo Fumeng suggests. “And do something that won’t totally drive him away. But no more pickup lines.”
Now there’s an idea. Wen Kexing already forgets what Luo Fumeng said, exactly, but what Wen Kexing interpreted was “find out everything there is to know about Zhou Zishu.” So he’s got work to do.
“I didn’t say stalk him! Why do you look like you’re going to stalk him again?” Luo Fumeng says, her voice more than a little despairing, but Wen Kexing is already out the door.
~~~
“Ah,” Jing Beiyuan says. “You’re the source of the . . . library tattoo.”
Wen Kexing’s smile is perhaps a little feral; he can’t help it. “So you’ve heard of me, then. Does he talk about me, the love of his life?”
“Sort of,” Jing Beiyuan says delicately.
Zhou Zishu seems like a stoic type, so that lukewarm response makes sense, Wen Kexing supposes. “He will,” Wen Kexing says with all the confidence he can summon. They’re soulmates, after all. He has to come around, right?
“So what do you need us for?” Wu Xi prompts. Wen Kexing’s reconnaissance mission has led him to Jing Beiyuan and Wu Xi, two of Zhou Zishu’s close friends, so he’d arranged a meeting, so to speak, to discuss the matter.
“Oh, right,” Wen Kexing says. “Yeah, I was wondering if you have any thoughts on how to overcome the whole ‘tattoo’ thing. He doesn’t seem thrilled with me. Yet.”
Wu Xi and Jing Beiyuan exchange a glance that turns into more of a silent conversation. Wen Kexing waits.
“We could lock them in a closet together,” Wu Xi says with a shrug.
“I am not opposed to that plan,” Wen Kexing volunteers.
“I don’t think we should lock them in a closet together,” Jing Beiyuan says mildly.
“Okay, not a closet, then,” Wu Xi agrees. “We’ll lock them in an empty classroom.”
“We can’t just lock them in a classroom together.”
“I know you secretly want to lock them in a classroom together.”
And that’s how they end up locking Wen Kexing and Zhou Zishu in a classroom together.
~~~
The situation is as follows: Wu Xi texts Zhou Zishu on Sunday seeking his help with a nonexistent crisis related to a nonexistent history paper and suggests they meet in an empty classroom since most of the campus study spots are crowded. Jing Beiyuan had declined to be the one to text Zhou Zishu because he didn’t want to be too “involved,” but he’d also been unable to hide his smile as they came up with this whole thing, so Wen Kexing thinks he has less a moral objection than a desire for plausible deniability if this goes badly. Which it won’t. Probably.
“What,” Zhou Zishu says furiously when he finds Wen Kexing sitting in the classroom in question. It doesn’t really sound like a question, so Wen Kexing lets him continue. “You are not the crisis I was prepared to deal with.”
Wen Kexing smiles fondly at Zhou Zishu. His soulmate. Zhou Zishu’s hair is in slight disarray—did he just wake up?—and Wen Kexing wonders what it would be like to run his fingers through it. “I believe the crisis Wu Xi was referring to is the fact that you haven’t given me your number.”
Zhou Zishu stares at him. “Maybe because I don’t want you to have my number.”
“Right,” Wen Kexing says, “but the universe wants me to have your number, and I trust its judgment.” He smiles angelically.
Zhou Zishu, on the other hand, rolls his eyes and turns back to the door. “I’m leaving.”
“Wu Xi thought you might say that, so we’ve taken the liberty of temporarily barricading the door. Do you want a cupcake?” Wen Kexing adds quickly.
Zhou Zishu pauses, considering. “You have cupcakes? Why didn’t you lead with that?” Wen Kexing figured the universe wouldn’t pair him with a monster who didn’t like cupcakes, so he had decided to flex his baking skills, and clearly it was the right call.
“If we’re stuck here for a while, I’m going to do some work,” Zhou Zishu says before biting into the proffered cupcake. “So you need to go over there and not distract me.”
“Got it,” Wen Kexing says, nodding solemnly. “Because I’m so hot it’s gonna distract you.”
“What—no—that’s not—”
Wen Kexing smiles beatifically. “Don’t worry; I totally understand. I’ll just go sit over there, then.”
“Has anyone ever told you you’re annoying?” Zhou Zishu huffs.
“No one would dare,” Wen Kexing says loftily. He pauses, a little uncertain, and then adds, perhaps a little more honest than he wishes to be, “I mean, I haven’t tried this hard before, though.”
Zhou Zishu looks at him curiously. “Why are you?” he asks. “Trying so hard.”
Wen Kexing’s forehead creases a bit. “Because you’re my soulmate,” he says, like it’s obvious, because to him it is. His whole life, any time he felt entirely alone in the world, he just had to imagine that somewhere out there was a person destined for him. Even when that was all he had to cling to, it was usually enough. “Why are you being so stubborn?”
“I’m not being stubborn,” Zhou Zishu says stubbornly. “I’m just—I don’t know—why should the universe get to tell me what to do?”
“That’s a very stubborn thing to say,” Wen Kexing replies, because he’s an instigator at heart. He laughs as Zhou Zishu gives him another magnificent eye roll in exasperation. “It’s not a mandate; it’s a gift,” Wen Kexing insists. Maybe less so for Zhou Zishu, since he’s getting stuck with Wen Kexing, but for Wen Kexing it feels like a miracle.
“Are you being paid by the universe to say that?” A tiny but by no means insignificant smile has formed on Zhou Zishu’s lips, and the thought that Wen Kexing could have caused it nearly makes his heart stop.
“All these accusations! I’m merely trying to get my money’s worth from the universe,” Wen Kexing says, appraising Zhou Zishu with an obvious once-over. “So, are you going to give me your number now?”
Zhou Zishu huffs a laugh, which feels like the biggest victory so far. “Fine, but only if you tell Wu Xi to release us right now.” He tilts his head. “And you need to give me another cupcake, for my troubles.”
Wen Kexing smiles impossibly wide as Zhou Zishu types in his number. “Happily.”
~~~
“How’s your courtship going?” Luo Fumeng asks.
It’s been several days since Operation Lock Wen Kexing and Zhou Zishu in a Classroom (Wen Kexing hasn’t come up with a better name for when he tells this story to the grandkids, but he’s working on it). “Oh, superb,” Wen Kexing says sincerely. “Yesterday I sent him a meme and he actually laugh-reacted this time.”
“That’s . . . nice?”
Wen Kexing is quite pleased with the progress on the soulmate front. Given his tattoo, he’s always figured his relationship with his soulmate would take a bit of patience, but it’s clear to him now that Zhou Zishu, with his prickly little cactus exterior, is actually incredibly soft on the inside. Never could Wen Kexing have expected to be so endeared by such messages as I will block your number.
They’ve met up quite a few times as well. And by “met up” Wen Kexing means he has Zhou Zishu’s schedule memorized and takes care to show up at the most opportune moments. And of those totally unorchestrated interactions, he’s managed to make Zhou Zishu laugh, however grudgingly, a total of eight (8) times.
So, yeah, he would say things are going well.
~~~
“A-Xu, what’s this?” Wen Kexing says when Zhou Zishu opens the door.
Zhou Zishu glances at the bag of takeout he’s holding up and then at Wen Kexing before waving him in. “Surely you know what food looks like.”
“You had fried rice delivered to my apartment?” As he enters Zhou Zishu’s apartment, Wen Kexing is experiencing the strangest sensation of being a little too warm, like his heart is somehow interfering with his bodily functions.
“You’re not the only one who can find out where someone lives, Lao Wen,” Zhou Zishu says, which is a statement that Wen Kexing perhaps shouldn’t find as hot as he does.
Wen Kexing sets the food down on Zhou Zishu’s table. “But—why would—?” Zhou Zishu has no right to make Wen Kexing feel this flustered. It’s Wen Kexing’s job to do all the flustering.
Zhou Zishu shrugs. “I thought I’d put an end to your complaining that you didn’t have time to make food tonight.”
“You—that’s—you can’t just—” Wen Kexing sputters.
Zhou Zishu raises his eyebrows. “Why not? Aren’t you the one always going on about how fate wants us to be together?” Wen Kexing doesn’t trust himself to respond with anything coherent. “Fate probably also wants me to prevent you from starving.”
“A-Xu,” Wen Kexing says, and then stops. He doesn’t know how to say what he wants to express. This was all so much easier when his soulmate was merely theoretical, a dream of sorts, and Wen Kexing didn’t have to fully confront the realities of his feelings and how he might go about eventually voicing them aloud. He feels incredibly wrong-footed now that this is no longer a game they’re playing. Standing in front of a real person thinking real thoughts about how he might really fall in love with them is maybe the scariest thing he’s ever experienced.
“What?” Zhou Zishu says, with a little smile that says he already knows. It’s a smile Zhou Zishu seems to reserve for moments like this, and Wen Kexing loves it so much he has to take a second to remember how to breathe properly. “I can do nice things too, you know.”
“I know,” Wen Kexing says, because he does. Not terribly far below the surface, Zhou Zishu is incredibly kind. Way too kind. Wen Kexing has to step up his game, probably. Zhou Zishu is so—
“Lao Wen,” Zhou Zishu says softly.
“Yes?” Why does Wen Kexing sound so breathless?
“Can I kiss you?”
Wen Kexing is nodding before he can even process what’s happening, so Zhou Zishu places a hand on the back of Wen Kexing’s neck and tugs him firmly into a kiss.
Wen Kexing has imagined this scenario a truly embarrassing number of times, and the reality is somehow much better. He smiles so wide at this thought that he inadvertently breaks the kiss, and they’re both breathing a little hard now. Wen Kexing looks down to see Zhou Zishu’s hand clutching Wen Kexing’s shirt.
“Know what my shirt’s made of?” Wen Kexing murmurs, resting his forehead against Zhou Zishu’s. “Boyfriend material.”
“How many times do I have to call you an asshole before it sinks in?” Zhou Zishu asks in the tone of a man defeated, but it would be a lot more convincing if he didn’t then press his lips to Wen Kexing’s again.
All in all, lack of supervision has in fact been doing Wen Kexing just fine.