Word Count: 925
Notes: Li Yin's new MV!verse Sihan. Because even if there's a female love interest, those boys cannot help but ghei it up. I'm dedicating this to hoyah because she flails with me, and simply because she is awesome. Warnings for awkward style and no reference to anyone's names except for Hannie!
When Geng was a little boy, she was all that mattered. She was soft, and delicate, and sweet, very much unlike how he always felt. She was different that the other boys he lived with, and perhaps that’s what caught his eye.
But when he came into the picture, everything changed; They were nothing but children, playing, talking, and running around the town, but it was different. Where Geng was quiet and unhurried, he was loud and rough, yet so much more refined; he had all the right words and actions, as if he had taken them from Geng’s mouth before he could even think them, all with a smile brighter than the sun. If he was the light, then Geng believed he must be the shadow to counter it.
Nothing ever turns out the way it should; Geng had been fifteen, still in the sweetly awkward stage of youth, when they went on a trip to the mountains. They had stayed with a distant aunt of hers, and Geng had forbid his love to sleep in a room with two boys, horrified when the other boy had suggested it. He had smiled at Geng, lips smoothing into a smile much more suggestive than Geng had ever seen it, his arms creeping around the pair’s shoulders. She had blushed wildly and Geng had kicked up such a fuss. So the evening found the two boys laying flush side to side, a single blanket to share between them. He had smiled (though much less coquettishly this time) as he turned and slid himself under Geng’s arm.
“You’re so easy to fluster,” he had whispered, hot breath brushing Geng’s ear.
“Be quiet,” Geng muttered back, embarrassed by the statement as well as the closeness. He didn’t move when the other boy had placed a soft kiss on his neck, body stiffening at the contact. He had brushed his lips against Geng’s own, excruciatingly soft as though Geng would break in his arms, and Geng surprised even himself as he curled his fingers through his hair, bringing them closer. They slept curled into each other embrace, and Geng swore that he could still taste the other boy’s smile on his lips when they parted.
They didn’t speak of the kiss the next day, Geng staying quiet and glancing out of the corner of his eye as the other two chatted and laughed. He had looked Geng straight in the eye, with the same look he always had, but Geng could swear there was something hidden.
Years later, Geng found himself back in those arms. The theatre was small, hardly enough room to house the staff and actors, but they had be lucky: she had gotten her own room (though it was tiny and stuffy) while he and Geng were able to room together. Geng awoke the first night suddenly, the pitch black room the only thing that greeted his eyes as they snapped open, when he felt smooth hands slide up his sides.
Lips covered his own, tongue effortlessly passing his surprised, parted lips. His heart had swelled with familiar emotion, very much the way she had always done, except it wasn’t her, it was him. His hands cupping his cheeks, his body pressed tightly against Geng’s own, his, and it made Geng dizzy.
The day of the opera, no one had known (though there was a flash of apprehension in her eyes) and Geng would have rather thrown himself onto the spear than have stabbed him. Nausea swept over Geng as his world shifted; he stumbled, eyes catching the police pushing through the crowd to his right and his blood pooling in front. Hardly knowing how, she had managed to pull and drag Geng half way across the city, before he collapsed in despair.
Geng remembered nothing past that when he woke days later, the small house in the mountains the same as he remembered, and wished desperately that he could remember nothing at all when realization swept over him. Her body trembled and she jumped at any noise, so Geng pushed down his emotions and focus on taking care of her, something he once thought was the most important thing, but now, but now he didn’t know what to think.
He had raised the spoon for her to eat and she had smiled, the gesture familiar and comforting. But as that smile fell and her eyes looked over his shoulder, Geng felt his heart fill with emotion for a very different reason.
He was there. Clutching his side as he stumbled, eyes wide and furious, he grasped Geng’s shirt pulling him closer roughly. Profanities spattered his speech, mixing with his demanding questions (why, why, god, how could you) and Geng was ready to yell for once, to yell, and scream, and explain, and-
And then Geng saw the gun. One look into his eyes, and Geng shifted without a second though.
It was more painful than Geng could have ever thought, slowly slipping from suddenly slack hands and crumpling to the ground. Geng heard the fight more than he saw it (tears and dust stinging his eyes as he tried to focus and steady his hand before he tries and-)
The man falls just like Geng did, though he doesn’t stir again.
The last thing Geng sees is his face, hair matted to his brow with sweat and smatterings of blood and contorted in confusion and anger. Fingers tremble against Geng’s cheek but then the world goes blissfully black as the pain ebbs away into nothingness.