#idk man established tianshan is just he tian being a baby with momo

[randomprose]

It started out as allergies. At least that’s what He Tian said when he couldn’t stop sneezing.

When he started sniffling the next day when he went to pick up Guan Shan from work, Guan Shan told him to take some cold medicine, but He Tian just said, “Only idiots catch colds.”

To which Guan Shan replied, “All the more reason for you to take them then.”

Then He Tian started coughing at dinner and Guan Shan had yelled at him to take a flu tablet and go to bed.

“You’re sick, dick head.”

“In more ways than one, baby~” He Tian teases, but the leery effect he wanted to get going was undermined by his stuffy nose and the resounding sneeze that followed. “Fucking allergy season.”

“Disgusting,” Guan Shan sneers with an arm over his face as he hands him a tissue. “And quit calling it an allergy. You never get them even at the height of spring, dickhead.”

“Fucking Beijing pollution then.”

“You were born in Beijing. Pollution is practically your oxygen.” He Tian lets out another sneeze that has Guan Shan mentally cataloguing the medicine cabinet and making a list of what to get from the pharmacy in his head. “You’ve got the flu.”

“Shut the fuck up,” He Tian sniffs and tries to tamper down a cough against his elbow as he reviews the dossier his brother sent him. “I never get sick.”

Annoyed at his stubbornness, Guan Shan decides he wouldn’t be hanging around until He Tian gets his head out of his ass and gets better.

That was over two days ago. Guan Shan gets a text from Jian Yi who heard from Brother Qiu that He Tian looked like death warmed over at the last meeting.

Stubborn fuck.

Guan Shan comes over that night and sees for himself. He Tian greets him at the threshold panting and heavily leaning on the door frame as if the walk there was a trek instead of just a couple of strides. He’s sweating and his eyes are sunken and red rimmed with dark bags underneath. 

Yep. Death warmed over was accurate alright.

“Told you ‘m not sick.”

Guan Shan doesn’t say anything, doesn’t comment that he sounds like his sinuses are gonna explode, and doesn’t rise to any of He Tian’s baiting. He just makes a beeline for the kitchen to cook beef stew, watches as He Tian struggles to eat without an appetite, and nods in satisfaction when he eventually finishes a bowl. 

(The day He Tian refuses Guan Shan’s cooking will be his last. Even with taste buds shot to hell and a stomach that can barely stand water, he’ll always want Guan Shan’s food.)

He Tian staggers away from the kitchen on to his bed and Guan Shan only has to count to three before he's taking a nose dive straight to his mattress. He smirks from where he’s looking at He Tian’s knocked out state thinking maybe he might’ve put a little too much pseudoephedrine on his stew but not entirely regretting it.

Guan Shan moves to arrange He Tian under the sheets and in a more comfortable sleeping position. Then he goes to wet a towel in cold water to wipe He Tian's fever-warm face and arms before rubbing Vicks on his chest to help his congested sinuses. He cleans the kitchen and apartment a little thinking if maybe he should stay before deciding He Tian will be fine for the night and going home.

He comes back to check up on him the next day after his shift is over. When no one answers, Guan Shan lets himself in and sees that the place is as he left it last night. He Tian is still knocked out cold in his bed.

Guan Shan peers at He Tian and sticks a hand on his forehead. He’s still a bit warm to the touch and a little pale but it seems like he’s sweated off most of his fever at least. After filling a basin with water to wipe down He Tian’s fever sweat, Guan Shan goes to undresses him, taking off his soaked shirt and only hesitating for a second about his pants before thinking ‘Might as well’, and wipes him down with the cold towel until his hand doesn’t feel like it’s touching a furnace whenever he lays it on He Tian’s skin. Then he dressed him up with matching button up pajama top and bottoms before slapping on a fever patch on his forehead and tucking him back to bed.

All of that and He Tian didn’t even so much as make a sound. Guan Shan is starting to admit to himself that maybe he did use a little too much pseudoephedrine on the stew. Belatedly, he thinks if it was a good idea to mix in flu medicine in it as well.

“Ah, fuck it.” He shrugs as he sprays some disinfectant on his hands (better safe than sorry; he can’t risk getting He Tian’s germs and miss a day of work). What’s done is done. At least it worked to get his fever down. He doesn’t seem to be having any more troubles with his sinuses either. “He’ll thank me later.”

He Tian won’t, probably. Instead, he’ll probably leer at Guan Shan as per usual and make quips about him taking advantage of him while he’s in a “vulnerable” state—in quotation marks because He Tian is never really vulnerable in whatever state he is, in Guan Shan’s opinion. Fucking menace. 

He Tian’s phone vibrates on his night stand and Guan Shan peers to see He Cheng’s name on the caller ID.

It’s probably important but like hell he’ll answer He Cheng’s call.

Guang Shan nearly spills his basin of water when his phone vibrates with a call and he sees He Cheng’s name on the caller ID.

Holy fucking shit.

Out of sheer terror in knowing that not answering is the worse option, Guan Shan puts the basin in the sink and slides his thumb over the screen to pick up the call. 

“Hello—”

"You roofied my brother," came He Cheng’s low flat baritone.

Fuck! They must’ve come in after he left last night or something!

"What—I—” His eyes travels to the kitchen counter and sees the bottle of flu medicine already opened which confirms it. “Well...h-he wouldn't rest otherwise!” 

Guan Shan decides to get into defensive mode. What’s He Cheng gonna do? Have him beat up for basically taking care of his stupid brother? 

“He was gonna get himself killed walking all sick and shit! Hell! He was gonna get people killed by infecting them with his germs! He—”

There's low laughter on the other end of the line but it wasn't from He Cheng.

"He drugged your brother. Oh, man. This kid really has guts." Brother Qiu? "Your brother's gonna kill him."

Fuck. He's right. And the realization that he just drugged a mobster boss’s brother is starting to sink into Guan Shan fast.

"Listen, I—”

"Thank you for taking care of He Tian, Mo Guan Shan. Rest assured you will be compensated."

"Erm—That's really not necessa—"

The line was already dead.

Well. At least he knows he’s not gonna get dragged by He Cheng’s goons to get beat up on a remote warehouse somewhere.

He Tian wakes up just as the sun sets. Guan Shan is watching some re-run of a movie in the living room when He Tian stalks over with a dark look on his face.

"You drugged me." He Tian says, voice flat and inflectionless just stating facts. “You drugged me.”

"I—" Guan Shan sits up from his slump on the couch upon seeing thunder on He Tian’s face. “Look! I was just—”

"You fucking roofied me."

"It wasn't roofy, you di—!"

"Jesus, Guan Shan. You put in enough drugs to knock out an elephant. What was it? NyQuill?"

“It’s just some generic shit from the corner pharmacy.” As if Guan Shan has the money to spend on branded shit. “Had to crush and put in some flu tablets as well. You wouldn’t have taken them otherwise.”

“Fucking hell.” He Tian sighs, putting a hand to his face and sounding like he doesn’t know whether to laugh or be annoyed. "You know, you don't have to date-rape drug me to get your way with me, right?”

"Chicken dick! That is not what—"

"But thanks."

He Tian plops on the couch over him, burying his face in Guan Shan’s chest. Guan Shan only puts up a token protest at the sudden weight before sighing and sinking back in the cushions with He Tian’s still warmer than normal body on top of him. He shifts to re-arrange them so they're both comfortable and not half hanging off the couch. He Tian grunts at being jostled and Guang Shan's hand instinctivley comes up to stroke at his hair to soothe.

"We're gonna have to fumigate your bed at this point,” he comments idly. He Tian had let his germs and sick fester and it would've probably mutated into some new strand of disease if Guan Shan hadn't done what he did. "Fucking hell, Tian."

"Burn it, shred it, toss the whole damn thing out, I don't care." He Tian wounds his arms around Guan Shan’s waist, nuzzling his face needily on his chest. "I've got myself the best bed here anyway."

"Don't treat me like a mattress and don't fucking get your snot on me or I swear to god." 

A half-hearted threat that He Tian knows Guan Shan would not go through if only because he doesn't push him away and the hand stroking his hair hasn't stopped. 

“Can you eat? You haven’t had anything all day and you need something in you before drinking the meds again.”

“Mm. Later.”

“Okay.”

Guan Shan drapes the throw-over blanket they keep on the couch over them, making sure He Tian is covered up to his shoulders. He puts a palm on He Tian’s forehead and neck to check for his temperature and sighs in relief when he deems it's gone down enough that he can just sleep it off. 

He Tian falls asleep to the low sound of the TV, the steady staccato beats of Guan Shan's heart, long fingers making soothing motions through his scalp, warm and safe, and already knowing he'll wake up feeling better.