#And that maybe Zhang Qiling is enjoying the quiet for the moment?

[justawanderingbabbit]

No dialogue. Too distracted by those beautiful fingers in action.

You do such pretty hands, @nightxshade.

【of witches and brews…】🔮✨🍂🦇 write your own version of this conversation in the comments XDDDD

[eirenical]

*drops by to yell about "post-canon Huo Daofu and Xiao Ge… time-sharing Wu Xie"* <3 <3

AHAHAHA-- RIGHT. So, @elenothar when I told you I wanted to hold on to this ask and let the fic percolate, I didn't think it would then CONSUME MY THOUGHTS for the next several days until I had to get some of it down on paper. O_o;;; So, this is shaping up to be longer than originally intended, and this bit is still on the rough side, but here's the first (1200+ word) scene? To gauge interest, maybe? (...oh who am I kidding; interest or no interest, I'm gonna write it anyway. XD) Enjoy? ^_^

*

It was quiet. The party that had raged and roared like a living beast for hours before now slumbered. Huo Daofu threaded his way carefully through the sleeping and unconscious bodies it had left in its wake to take up a careful perch on one of the few remaining upright pieces of furniture. As he settled in, the bench's occupant lifted his bottle to clink aimlessly against his, then briefly raised it before taking a pull. Huo Daofu obediently took a sip from his own bottle; there was little enough left in it.

Lowering his bottle, Huo Daofu let it dangle loosely from his hand as he leaned over to brace his elbows on his knees. It had been a long time since he'd indulged himself this way. A very long time. Beside him, Wang Pangzi leaned back to rest his elbows on the table behind them, tipping his head back. He was smiling. "Now *that* was a party."

The corners of Huo Daofu's lips pulled up in an answering smile before he even realized they had. They'd been doing that a lot lately. Smiling without his express permission.

They used to do that often. Before.

The smile fell from Huo Daofu's lips as though it had been washed away by a bucket of cold water. He'd been down this road before. He'd been down this road before, and it had only led him to heartbreak. He had no desire to travel it again now that he knew where it led. He looked up, gaze catching on the only other upright person in the room. Zhang Qiling. Xiao-ge. Wu Xie's Menyouping. Wu Xie's—

Huo Daofu tore his gaze away, closing his eyes to the sight and finishing off his bottle in one long pull. By the time he had finished, Pangzi's leg was a heavy line of warmth against his own, his outstretched knee lazily nudging into him. He laughed. "Now, where have I seen that look before, I wonder?"

Taking advantage of the few inches remaining on his side of the bench, Huo Daofu shifted away, frowning to discourage Pangzi from claiming the inches he'd ceded. Pangzi, of course, took no notice. Wu Xie had ruined his understanding of personal space, like he had for so many others… if Pangzi had had any to begin with. Pangzi had rolled onto his hip to face Huo Daofu, one arm propping his head up on the table, the other bracing his own bottle on his hip. He raised an eyebrow.

Huo Daofu matched that look, stare for stare, for as long as he could before breaking. He twirled his empty bottle idly back and forth between his hands, wishing he hadn't finished it, that he could take another drink in lieu of answering the question so clearly waiting in Pangzi's open expression. Finally, he sighed, leaning back against the table. Quietly, he said, "How do you let him go? When the mission is over, when the wounds are healed, and to the victor have gone the spoils… how do you let him go?"

Pangzi's snort ruffled the short hair at the back of Huo Daofu's neck, and he repressed a shudder. "Xiao-ge?" Pangzi's hand waved wildly across the room for a moment before he snorted again. "He's like a feral cat, that one. Happy to accept food and skritchings and pettings when it pleases him, but restless and aggressive if tied down to one place for too long. It's better for everyone concerned to let him wander where he will and when he will. Eventually you just…" he shrugged. "…learn to accept it." There was a brief pause, then Pangzi reached out and poked Huo Daofu hard in the shoulder. "Aiyo. You're not turning into another Sang Bei'er on me, are you? One Xiao-ge superfan is already more than we can handle."

Huo Daofu turned to face Pangzi, his face hardening. Zhang Qiling. Really.

As their eyes met, Pangzi's face abruptly softened. "Ah. Ah, ah, ah. OK." That last came out in English, and Pangzi reached out again, this time to pat the spot on Huo Daofu's shoulder that he had just poked a moment before. "Apologies, apologies. I misunderstood." Another pat.

If Huo Daofu could have moved further away without falling off the bench, he would have. He wasn't used to… this. Pangzi sat up beside him, finally, taking another pull of his bottle before turning his own gaze across the room. Zhang Qiling was still sitting upright, looking down at a boneless Wu Xie, who was sprawled across his lap like some oversized cat, with a softer look than Huo Daofu had ever seen on his face. His fingers slowly sifted through Wu Xie's hair and Wu Xie curled *closer* and— Huo Daofu's stomach clenched at the sudden sense memory of his own fingers sliding through that same hair. He dropped his head into his hands, doing his best to convince himself when Pangzi's overly heavy patting resumed moments later, that it was reassuring and not intrusive.

Softly, and with almost more sympathy in it than Huo Daofu could bear, Pangzi said, "I hate to say it, but I think you're very much barking up the wrong tree here. I don't have a great track record, myself, of being able to let him go. Exhibit A being me literally falling to my knees and begging for his life outside your very own youtiao shop, not all that long ago… in case you forgot."

Quietly. "I haven't forgotten."

How could he?

It had been years at that point, since Huo Daofu had last set eyes on Wu Xie, years since what they'd had had ended in a fiery explosion of tempers that had left a hole inside him that had still been only slowly healing when Wang Pangzi showed up on his doorstep. He'd seriously considered, then, leaving Wu Xie to die, had still been considering it days later when he joined them on that frantic rescue mission from which Wu Xie should not have returned. But being near him, supporting him, taking care of him, day after day after day… of being subject to that wry, unassuming smile and the dry sense of humor that they'd always shared… of having that body back in his arms, no matter how dire the circumstances… it had weighed on him until he'd reached a wary sort of peace with himself and an even warier sort of peace with Wu Xie. Huo Daofu had bid him goodbye on that last desperate mission fully expecting it to *be* goodbye, that having made their peace, they could let each other go, and Huo Daofu would be left to remember him fondly after his death, instead of with the bitterness that had so overshadowed their last parting.

But then Wu Xie had returned.

Whole.

Healed.

With Zhang Qiling at his side.

And now Huo Daofu was faced with a Wu Xie who had let *him* go… and he being unable to return the favor.

Pushing himself off the bench, Huo Daofu gave Pangzi a pat of his own in return. "Never mind, Pangzi. I'll find my own way." Softly. "I always do." And then before Pangzi could say another word, Huo Daofu turned and left. He had responsibilities. He had his pride. He was no longer 20 years old, willing to pine forever after the unattainable. It was time to let go. Angry words hadn't worked the last time, formed as they had been of barbed hooks that pulled both ways. This time, Huo Daofu would simply… wish Wu Xie well. And hope that that would be enough to cut the ties that needed to be cut, for both their sakes.