#surprise hx is also a dancer

[everytimewetouch-dot-mp3]

inspired by the art i just reblogged: CONSIDER. tgcf ballet au where each of the four famous tales is a ballet.

(update: …this took longer and got bigger than i expected lmaooo)

at only seventeen, xie lian the principal dancer for the national ballet. xie lian danced like water, like the wind, with once-in-a-generation fluidity and grace. he was incredible, and he inspired a generation of dancers, especially young boys, to take up the art.

things turned bad, though. injured dancers (never xie lian, though) faulty flying rigs (never xie lian’s, though). damaged equipment and safety hazards and all manner of things that xie lian notices. he tries to fix them. he’s always too late. rumors start to spread. hadn’t he gotten into an argument with this dancer last week? hadn’t that dancer taken his preferred warmup spot the week before?

when xie lian catches the saboteur, no one believes him. how could they, when he’s blaming the artistic director himself?

it comes to a head on opening night of The Ballad of Wuyong. the show that rocketed the artistic director to fame, back in his performing days. xie lian plays prince wuyong now. he is terrified.

in the second act, one of the lights malfunctions. the artistic director looks him dead in the eyes and grins.

the light falls.

xie lian isn’t injured, of course. he never is when these things happen around him. why would he be, when he’s the one behind it all. that’s what everyone says. the dancers whose careers were ended that night, the theater damaged in the fire, the audience members who feared for their lives. it was xie lian’s fault. he’s been sabotaging the show from the start.

no one believes him. he retires, fading into obscurity. three years later, he teaches ballet in a small town. he knows he will never see the stage again.

hua cheng is a young firebrand with earth-shattering skill. he dances like fire, like the roar of racing blood, like passion incarnate. he is arrogant and cold as a member of the national ballet, and then he starts his own company. still arrogant, still cold, but after two years, he’s proven that his arrogance is well deserved.

he and two friends have written (choreographed and composed??) a ballet. well. they’ve got complete concepts for three. the other one is a work in progress. each is based on an epic that everyone and their mothers had to read parts of in school (a la the odyssey/the iliad). the four famous tales, the tetrad of classical legends that have been the subject of television and film retellings, novelizations and operas. it has been performed as a ballet before. hua cheng will do it better.

he xuan has composed the first three and is working through the fourth. hua cheng has taken on the ambitious role of second lead while assisting yushi huang in her role as artistic (co-) director. the role of the primary lead is vacant. hua cheng is arrogant and stubborn and he will not budge on one point: the role was created for xie lian. if he can’t convince xie lian to return and fill the role, the show will never see the stage.

(the entire creative team is furious with him, but…he pays their bills. he xuan owns his music; if the ballet falls through, he can still take his compositions to stage or write an opera or some shit. hua cheng doesn’t care.)

so hua cheng embarks on a mission to retrieve his ballet idol, the man who inspired him to keep dancing when he was ready to quit, the man whose performances changed his life again and again.

xie lian teaches twelve-year-olds. he hasn’t performed in five years. hua cheng doesn’t care; he can help xl get back into performing shape.

xie lian isn’t familiar with the show. hua cheng laughs, tells him nobody knows the show yet.

xie lian is…xie lian. his reputation is what it is, and after burning his former company to the ground as he did (because maybe it was his fault after all; so many people couldn’t all be wrong. they all agreed, didn’t they? it was his fault), he’s terrified of doing it to someone else’s.

hua cheng doesn’t care. he knows it wasn’t xie lian’s fault. hua cheng was in that show as a fifteen-year-old boy, a part of the corps de ballet at such a young age. xie lian wanted the show to succeed. xie lian bruised and cried and bled for that role. he pricked his fingers darning his flats; he was always first in and last out to rehearsals. he read the ballad of wuyong in an effort to understand his role better. he lost sleep, skipped meals, ran himself ragged for that role. the company spit in his face, shoving all the blame on him instead of investigating properly. hua cheng will not swallow their lies. this role was created for xie lian. he will not have anyone else.

no one has ever defended xie lian like this. no one believed him. his co-stars, his closest friends, his family. but here is this man, so famously skilled that xie lian’s students babble about him in class, more beautiful than the sun and just as bright, saying that he refuses to believe what even xie lian has grown to accept. he is not an ill omen. he is not a curse to the stage.

his students’ final performance of the season is saturday evening. sunday morning, he follows hua cheng to beijing.

[hualianff]

Birthday Boy HC

Modern AU with police chief HC who is very dedicated to his job, especially because he grew up in a “bad” area and has first-hand experience from inadequate police service in poor neighborhoods. His co-workers and friends never see him go on second dates or have one-night stands. When HC’s birthday comes up, he insists he doesn’t want a grand occasion.

However, a simple party, he will permit.

Leave it to HX’s partner, SQX, to invite all of HC’s friends and acquaintances to HC’s own penthouse for a surprise birthday party, scheduled for the evening since HC typically works very late. When the police chief arrives home, still in his black uniform pants and red dress-shirt that goes under his suit jacket, the party is on the precipice of a full swing celebration.

HC is a bit put off by how loud and crowded his home is but it’s not necessarily a bad thing. Things are lonely, he will admit. And if this is a once-in-a-blue-moon thing, then HC won’t stop others from enjoying themselves and frankly, spoiling him.

At the height of the party, right when YY is about to present the birthday cake, SQX whistles for everyone’s attention.

“All right, Hua Cheng, time to sit on that chair over there,” SQX says while steering HC from behind, pushing on his shoulder. The chair is placed in the middle of the living room, in the perfect spot to watch the front door open.

The lights are gradually dimmed.

HC is too confused to protest. He cautiously sits down.

The front door pivots open. The person who walks through the door makes HC’s eye widen in surprise. They are dressed in all black: jean-booty shorts, stilettos, and a tight-fitting crop top. A sheer veil is also draped over their shoulders, falling gracefully behind them as they enter the room. They wear a headband with pointy horns and dark, red lipstick.

As the person gets closer, HC’s breath picks up.

“You didn’t-“ he whispers mindlessly, directed at SQX. His best friend’s partner merely holds their hands up in surrender, as if saying they did nothing wrong.

The scarcely-dressed person looks around demurely, aware everyone’s eyes are on them, ogling at their outfit that exposes lots of skin.

And then they set their gaze on HC, who sits frozen in the chair, hands gripping his thighs.

“Are you the birthday boy?” The stranger asks, smirking slightly. HC audibly gulps, not quite believing the sight of his childhood neighbor standing right in front of him, dressed like a demon summoned for punishment for his sins.

(It takes .05 seconds for HC to tent up in his pants.)

HC can’t bring himself to speak without stuttering like a fool. It’s clear that he’s the birthday boy—he’s sitting in a chair in the middle of the room, goddamn it. But for whatever reason, HC feels like he needs to respond to every one of this man’s signals.

So he stiffly nods, managing to maintain eye contact.

XL’s smirk widens mischievously, holding a secret promise behind those glistening lips. He prowls forward slowly, the click of his stiletto heels echoing across the marble floor.

“It looks like I’ve gotten myself into a little trouble,” he says with faux-innocence, slipping the veil off his shoulders. Instead of coming onto HC, XL slinks around him, letting the veil skim across HC’s lap, up to his chest, and over his face.

It faintly smells of peach.

“All right, Mr. Policeman,” XL addresses, pausing to stand behind HC. “What should I call you?”

HC breathes out harshly through his nose, desperately wanting to tilt his head back in order to get another glimpse at the angel- no, minx who has evoked the intensity of desire and lust long-buried under HC’s skin. It steadily rises to the surface, heating HC’s skin, making him feel too hot in a room where too many people remain to watch the show.

“Hmm, will ‘chief’ do? Or perhaps...sir?”

“Hua Cheng is just fine,” HC grits out. He gives in to looking behind his shoulder with curious eyes. XL’s face is startlingly close, amber eyes holding a sultry look that sends pleasure down HC’s spine.

Then, those eyes fixate on him, getting a really good look for the first time. Familiarity flashes across XL’s expression but he quickly wipes it away in favor of connecting their foreheads.

“Hua Cheng it is.”

The click of handcuffs binding HC’s wrists behind the back of the chair makes his heart drop to his stomach. He whips his head around to SQX and HX who stand off to the side. HX raises an amused eyebrow.

Somehow, SQX convinced HX to steal a pair from the office.

These are his own cuffs.

“Is this okay, Hua Cheng?” XL whispers genuinely in HC’s. When HC audibly hitches, he giggles.

“Yes.”

XL unties HC’s low ponytail to card his fingers through the police chief’s hair.

“Does it feel good?”

Fuck, XL is barely touching him, but the light brush of his fingers ignites a flame in HC’s heart, making him feel alive.

XL unbuttons the top three buttons of HC’s shirt.

“There. All ripe for the taking,” XL purrs. He drags the veil up and over HC’s face as he walks away. A strong bass pounds from HC’s built-in speaker SQX has managed to operate.

XL begins dancing for HC, swiveling his hips and rotating in time with the music. HC’s breath quickens up, his police attire also feeling unbearably hot. XL ditches the veil, and then he’s walking to HC, long legs crossing with every step.

HC is certain he won’t survive this.

***

It turns out to be nothing more than a sensual lap dance. There was no kissing on the lips, no groping on HC’s part, and no intimate touches because XL isn’t that kind of dancer. SQX knew this. He also knew HC wouldn’t want anything more than a bit of teasing anyways.

Luckily, SQX contacting a fellow friend who he’d modeled with once has allowed HC to see XL again. When he’s released from the cuffs, HC stands up and approaches where XL picks up his veil from the ground.

“Gege?” HC questions quietly. XL turns to look at him, a pink blush dusted on his cheeks.

“Oh, hello again, San Lang,” the other man greets, nearly the same height as HC with the stilettos on. “It’s been a while, hasn’t it?”

“Hmm.”

It hadn’t been either of their faults. Or maybe it was both. HC traveled to another part of the country to be enrolled in the most prestigious academy in the nation. XL moved to a different big city to pursue a degree in economics. Years of separation caused them to drift apart from best friends in high school to strangers living very different lives.

“Well, it’s really nice to see you again. The circumstances are a bit... unconventional, but I’m glad it was you,” XL laughs lightly, readjusting his headband with pointy horns. HC tries not to stare at how well they suit the other man.

XL shifts a bit uncomfortably, hugging the sheer veil tighter around his body. HC feels a natural smile curl upon his lips in hopes it soothes XL’s qualms about his state of dress.

“I’m glad it was you too, gege,” HC says honestly. XL’s face lights up like the golden fairy lights he had pinned on his childhood room walls. “If it’s not too much trouble, I ask if gege can stay?”

“Oh.”

“At least for cake-” HC rushes out, praying to whatever bastard up there that XL will say yes. “It’s strawberry,” he adds, softer. XL tilts his head in astonishment.

“I thought your favorite flavor was coconut?” XL asks in surprise.

“It is. But...I asked for strawberry this year,” HC finishes lamely.

Was he being too obvious? Would XL figure him out and be repelled? Sure, it was only a cake flavor, but what are the chances XL’s favorite is still strawberry?

XL takes his phone out of the canvas bag SQX brought to him after the dance. He scrolls for a few seconds, then quickly types something out. Turning the device back in its place, XL meets HC’s gaze with a cheerful smile.

He closes all the distance between them, a certain bounce in his step.

“I believe,” XL starts. “I can keep the birthday boy company for a little while longer.”

HC smiles widely, flashing his front row of teeth–his right canine pointier than the rest.

“Brilliant.”

***

Turns out, “a little while longer” meant talking until every last person called it a night and headed out. They catch up on all the years they missed out on each others’ lives.

Four years ago, XL adopted a daughter, Ban Yue. Ban Yue was a split-second decision when XL was a year out of university, unsure of what direction his life was heading. He says it’s the best decision he’s ever made.

“She brings me so much happiness. It was like I had a Ban Yue-shaped hole and she was the missing puzzle piece,” XL says enthusiastically. He pauses to take one more sip of his baijiu. “Does that even make sense? Hahaha….”

“It does,” HC reassures from beside him. They sit on his plush, velvet couch, holding their respective drinks with practiced form. XL leans back against the cushions, sighing in relief.

“San Lang, I knew you would understand,” he murmurs.

He doesn’t elaborate.

He doesn’t need to. It’s no secret XL’s parents would’ve disapproved of him for single-parenting a random orphan with no known heritage or background. But they were already out of the picture, disowning XL right after high school graduation when he was outed by a family friend whose advances XL rejected.

“Perhaps you can meet her one day,” XL adds as an afterthought. HC matches XL’s position, reclining against the cushions, keeping his body turned towards XL, offering him HC’s full, undivided attention. It’s a simple gesture that means everything to someone like XL.

“I would love to,” HC says.

XL hums happily, then goes on to explain that he’s a telemarketer by day, which allows him to stay home with flexible work hours that fit around Ban Yue’s school schedule. (She’s in the third grade now.)

XL also mentions that he occasionally dances at night for an extra income. Nothing too intense or frequent. Just dressing up and dancing for special occasions, at parties like HC’s. XL typically has MQ or FX babysit Ban Yue during those nights.

The word family echoes in the hollow of HC’s chest.

“Gege’s been leading a very eventful and prosperous life,” HC comments with satisfaction. He leans forward to tug the maple-red coat he lent back over XL’s shoulders, ensuring the other man stayed warm.

“Nonsense, my life is just like anybody else’s,” XL says, waving his hand in a lax motion. “But I am very interested in hearing about San Lang’s life. Police chief, huh?”

“Gege…” HC mutters shyly. Against his will, his mind replays the moment XL asked if he should address HC as “sir.”

Boners don’t get boyfriends; sexy, mature conversations do, HC tells himself.

“Please, San Lang? I won’t force you to talk too much about yourself! I know we don’t...know each other as well as we used to,” XL says, a bit embarrassed. “If you want, we can just end right now and I can leave-”

“No! Not at all, I’ll tell gege anything he wants,” HC says, scooting even closer to XL so their hips bump against one another. XL sets down his empty glass, his unsure expression morphs to contentedness.

As it should always be.

“Well…” HC trails off, taken aback by how vivid XL’s amber irises gleam as they pin HC down. “Actually, there isn’t much to tell-”

“Just tell it is how it is, San Lang!” XL laughs, reaching over to playfully bat at HC’s arm.

“Okay, okay! I’m on it.”