So a lot (MOST) of these were kinda spoiler-y so have been hidden below as usual
Spoilers past Ep.2 below
I was able to predict a heap of stuff but DID NOT get that LWJ recognised WWX because of their song until it was spelled out in front of me (like the moment WWX was like so I get it now) so I hid it like my shame for not realising sooner
Xue Yang avoided them both as much as he could for as long as he could. Which was only a day, because he forgot to cancel his fucking therapy session with yet another new doctor.
He should just give up finding one. He was tired of the bigots and judgemental bastards and overeager fucks who started naming meds before the end of their first meeting.
He slumped in the passenger seat of Xingchen’s car, the silence threatening to push him over the edge. He tensed when Xingchen moved, pulling something out of his jacket pocket, before holding his hand out, a tiny circle with golden plastic wrapping in his palm.
A piece of candy shouldn’t have made his throat feel tight. What the fuck was wrong with him?
He eyed the candy, but couldn’t resist more than a few moments before taking it. He turned it over and over between his fingers, listening to the crinkle of the wrapping.
“You don’t have to keep shutting us out, love.”
Xue Yang slanted a look at Xingchen from the corner of his eye. “Of course you’d rather have a heart to heart every time there’s anissue,” he sneered.
“Is that really worse than this?”
“Maybe,” he replied, turning his attention out the window again. Just becausetalkingworked out a few things last time didn’t mean it always would.
He knew exactly how bad things could get bytalking.
When they pulled up to the clinic, he bit back a snarl. He wasn’t in the mood for this bullshit, but Xingchen was being a bitch today and refused to let him cancel.
He shoved the door open and stalked inside to find the suite for his appointment, and walked into a fucking forest. He stopped in the doorway and counted a dozen plants in the corners and on shelves - herbs and tiny succulents, and something with giant leaves in the corner where the sun came in. A table to the side had a pitcher filled with ice water and slices of lemon and green leaves, a large pot of overgrown mint beside it.
“Oh,” Xingchen said, coming up behind him, “this is nice.”
Xue Yang scoffed and moved to the desk where a woman was deliberately not staring at them. He gave his name and waited for her to check him in before sinking into the sofa. He waited until Xingchen sat beside him to ask, “What the fuck is that smell?”
Xingchen took a deep breath and relaxed. “Tea tree,” he said with a smile. He leaned forward, picking up a piece of fruit from a bowl on the table. “Are these for guests?”
The receptionist looked up with a smile. “Yes, help yourself.”
Xue Yang watched Xingchen pick up a napkin and wipe the fruit off before tearing off the leaves on top. “The fuck is that.”
“Persimmon,” Xingchen said brightly. “Would you like a bite?”
“…Is it good?”
Xingchen hummed and peeled a section before taking a bite, smiling as he licked his lips. “Yes.” He peeled another bit and held it out in offering.
“What’s it taste like?”
He tilted his head as he considered. “Mm, sweet. And reminds me a bit of a tomato.”
Xue Yang grimaced at the idea of a sweet tomato, but whatever. If it was sweet, it was probably good. He leaned over and opened his mouth, letting Xingchen feed him. The sweetness was milder than he usually liked, but the flavor was good. He propped his head against Xingchen’s shoulder and waited to steal another bite.
“Should I have Zichen pick some up?” Xingchen asked with a soft laugh.
The mention of Song Lan killed what little of a good mood he’d scraped together. “If you want,” he replied, sitting up.
Thankfully, the door across from them opened then. A teenager stepped out, shoving his hands into his pockets and eyeing them as he skirted around them to check out. Behind him was a young man with a bright smile that immediately put Xue Yang even more on edge.
“Hello,” he said, looking at Xue Yang and Xingchen. “I’m Mo Xuanyu. Please, come in.” He stepped back and held the door open in invitation.
Xue Yang sighed and got to his feet, sure this appointment would last even less time than the asshole who sneered when he realized Xue Yang and Xingchen weren’t “just friends”.
Xingchen gathered up the trash and stood to throw it away. He stopped beside the door and looked at Xue Yang, tilting his head.
He didn’t give Xingchen time to ask stupid questions, just took his hand and dragged Xingchen in behind him.
The office had even more plants - a few succulents on the desk, an aloe plant in the window, and a bushy thing on the table in front of the sofa. There was a hotplate beside the succulents with a kettle of water and a short bookcase filled with books on the far side of the room.
Xue Yang sank down onto one side of the couch without letting go of Xingchen and used his other hand to poke the plant. The tiny leaves immediately twitched and closed in on themselves. “The fuck,” he said, leaning forward and poking the other side.
Mo Xuanyu closed the door and settled in the chair across from them. “I’ve found that to be one of the best ice breakers,” he said with a smile. “Which one of you is Xue Yang?”
“Me,” he said, leaning back and bracing himself for another awkward session. When Mo Xuanyu asked who Xingchen was, he grinned and replied, “My lover.”
Mo Xuanyu blinked in surprise. “Oh. And you are-”
“Fucking,” he said, ignoring the sound Xingchen made as he watched for any reaction that would let him end this session now.
“Congratulations,” Mo Xuanyu replied hesitantly, looking from one to the other. “And your name?”
“Xiao Xingchen,” Xingchen answered, his voice polite enough, but there was definitely a disapproving tone there.
Xue Yang would be getting an earful later, but whatever. He couldn’t remember why he’d agreed to this bullshit anymore, though Xingchen was always quick to remind him and to ask if he really wanted to go through that again.
He was starting to think that maybe another breakdown was preferable to dealing with a new stranger twice a fucking week.
“Pleasure,” Mo Xuanyu said. “So I do want to make it clear I don’t usually do couples therapy-” he started, before Xue Yang cut him off with a sharp laugh.
“Don’t worry, he’s just here to make sure you don’t try to drug me against my will,” he said, ignoring Xingchen’s quiet sigh.
“Oh.” Mo Xuanyu’s bright smile was unexpected enough to throw Xue Yang off balance. “That’s good. It’s always nice to know a patient has a support network in place.”
Oh, you’ve got to be shitting me, he thought. He frowned in irritation, annoyed that Mo Xuanyu wasn’t getting annoyed with him. “Yeah, he’s great support, if you know what I mean,” he said with a leer.
Xingchen twisted his fingers free and clasped his hands in his lap.
“Would you like to talk about that?”
“What.”
Mo Xuanyu flicked his fingers. “It’s just, that’s the second time you’ve alluded to your sex life. Is there something you’d like to discuss about it?”
Xue Yang curled his fingers into his jeans and tried to breathe around the sudden vice in his chest. “No. Fuck you.”
“Xue Yang,” Xingchen said, his voice tight.
Mo Xuanyu tilted his head, letting the silence sit for a moment before speaking. “Would you like a drink? Tea, coffee, hot chocolate?”
“Yeah, sure. Hot chocolate.” It could double as a weapon, since he was sure he’d give in to the desire to claw this punk’s eyes out in the next few minutes.
“No, thank you,” Xingchen said when Mo Xuanyu looked at him.
With a nod, he moved to the desk and pulled out a large mug. He dumped a packet of cocoa mix in, added hot water and a spoon, then set it on the table in front of Xue Yang.
Before he pulled his arm back, Xue Yang caught sight of a long, jagged scar on his wrist. He didn’t realize he was staring until Mo Xuanyu said, “Pretty gnarly, yeah?” and turned both wrists to let Xue Yang see the matching scars on both.
Xue Yang pressed his thumb against the scars on his own wrist, hidden beneath his mantis shrimp tattoo. “How?” he asked.
“Oh, a sacrificial dagger,” Mo Xuanyu replied. “I was in a pretty dark place as a teen. Thought the occult could save me. Thankfully, I wasn’t as smart as I thought I was, and luckier than I deserved.”
Xue Yang stared a moment longer before reaching for the mug and giving it a stir. Out of all the therapists available, he’d ended up sitting in front of one who actually had some idea of what his patients may have gone through? He might have accused Xingchen of arranging this, if not for the fact he’d gone through so many already these past weeks.
That didn’t mean he had to like this one. Or trust him.
He took a sip of hot chocolate. “Okay,” he said, setting the cup down. “So tell me your diagnosis so far.”
“We haven’t spoken nearly long enou-”
“I saw your behavioral analysis books. You’ve already got some ideas. I wanna hear ‘em.”
Mo Xuanyu frowned, sitting back in his chair as he looked Xue Yang over. “Alright,” he said softly. “You seem to place particular significance on sex, possibly to the point of tying your self worth to your desirability. You default to antagonism and anger when uncomfortable, going so far as to alienate even those closest to you. I suspect that can lead to you sabotaging yourself and your relationships.”
He paused and glanced between them before looking back at Xue Yang. He waited a moment for a response, but Xue Yang’s tongue was paralyzed. “I also suspect you have some bad experiences with therapists or doctors, likely pertaining to medication,” he added.
Xue Yang swallowed and finally got his tongue unstuck. “Fuck you,” he said, getting to his feet and stalking out of the room. He tried to slam the door, but it had some kind of automated pressure release. He gave up with a snarl and found the bathroom. That door he could slam, but it wasn’t nearly as satisfying.
He moved to the sink and hunched over it, his skin crawling. He didn’t think he was that easy of a read, so the little shit had to have cheated somehow. Maybe Xingchen really had talked to him. Or maybe Song Lan. The thought of either of them going behind his back made his stomach churn. He stared at the drain and couldn’t help wondering if maybe they’d already figured all that out on their own. It’d only taken Mo Xuan-fucking-yu five seconds apparently. They’d had three fucking years.
What else had they assumed about him but never mentioned? Did they talk about him when he wasn’t there?
He lifted his head to stare in the mirror, straightening and poking at his eye with a frown. He hadn’t slept well last night, but it shouldn’t have been enough to put those dark circles under his eyes.
He had half a mind to put his fist through the mirror, but if he was going to deal with that mess, he’d rather do it in his own bedroom where he wouldn’t have to deal with someone fussing over him. With a sneer, he splashed cold water on his face, patted dry with a paper towel, and sauntered back to the office.
He opened the door in time to hear Xingchen say, “I just wish I knew-” before he cut himself off.
“Wish you knew what, Xingchen,” he sang, forcing a grin onto his face as he stepped inside.
Xingchen pressed his lips together and shook his head.
Xue Yang frowned and turned to Mo Xuanyu, irritation igniting under his skin. “Talking about your patient behind their back?”
“No. We were just having a chat.” Mo Xuanyu smiled and gestured to the couch. “Please sit and we can continue, if you’d like.”
Xue Yang eyed Xingchen, but gave up and sat when he refused to look up.
“Xiao Xingchen, would you like to finish what you were saying?”
Xingchen sighed and tilted his head towards Xue Yang. “I wish I knew how to have a conversation with you without you fighting every attempt.”
He crossed his arms and lifted his chin. “Conversation about what?”
“Anything,” Xingchen replied, shaking his head with a soft, humorous laugh. “Absolutely anything of any importance.”
“Too bad I don’t feel like talking to you.”
“Would you feel like talking to me?” Mo Xuanyu asked.
Xue Yang tensed, turning a sharp grin on him even as he watched Xingchen from the corner of his eye. He’d already pissed Xingchen off enough he might just be willing to take up that offer himself; not like he’d evertalked to one of the therapists before - he was only supposed to be here to make sure they didn’t throw him in an institute.
When Xingchen shifted, Xue Yang’s attention snapped to him, his hand halfway to grabbing onto him before he realized he’d moved.
Xingchen blinked at him, his confusion shuttering into a blank expression a moment later. “I’m not leaving this room unless you say it’s okay.” His voice was neutral, but Xue Yang was intimately familiar with all the ways Xingchen could sound hurt.
That was the one he hated most. The one that sounded tired and resigned, like Xue Yang was somehow at fault when he hadn’t evendoneanything.
“Whatever,” he muttered, crossing his arms again. Then his mouth grew a mind of its own and said, “It’s fine. Just leave.”
“Xue Yang, look at me.”
He twitched and dragged his eyes up to stare at Xingchen’s nose.
“Are you sure?”
“I said leave,” he replied, pleased that his voice sounded bored despite the urge to throw something through the window. “Not like he can fix me anyway.”
Mo Xuanyu hummed thoughtfully. “That implies there’s something broken.”
Xue Yang blinked and slowly tilted his head to grin at Mo Xuanyu. “I’m not implying anything.”
Mo Xuanyu nodded. “I do charge extra for patients who bring me a WebMD diagnosis to deal with.”
His grin twitched wider, baring his teeth. “Leave, Xingchen.”
Xingchen hesitated before getting to his feet. He paused, likely looking at Mo Xuanyu for a sign he’d be okay, but neither of them looked away from each other.
Once the door closed, Mo Xuanyu asked, “Feel better?”
“No.”
“Yet you still sent him away.”
“Didn’t want any witnesses when I kill you.”
Mo Xuanyu raised an eyebrow, but otherwise didn’t respond.
Xue Yang twitched, only then noticing his heartbeat was too fast and it was getting harder to keep his breathing steady. “No response to that?”
“I was waiting for you to kill me,” he replied with a flick of his fingers.
Xue Yang sneered. “Calling me a liar?” he asked.
“Are you one?”
He laughed, though it sounded strained. “If I say yes?” he asked, digging his fingers into his arms and trying to focus on the mild pain, but it wasn’t sharp enough. The room was shifting at the edges of his vision. Darker furniture. Lighter carpet. For a moment, the bookshelf flickered and instead of books, there were stuffed animals and toys. Distractions, or rewards for him if he promised to-
A sudden burst of cold in his hand shattered the memories and his body jerked, his lungs seizing as he sucked in air like he’d been drowning. He blinked at his hand, seeing the white packet clutched in his fingers without comprehending.
“Better?” a soft voice asked.
He blinked again and turned his head to find Mo Xuanyu crouched on one knee beside him.
Mo Xuanyu nodded slightly and got up, sitting back down in his chair. “Does that happen often?”
Xue Yang shrugged and looked at his hand again, carefully turning the package over and staring at the words until he could read them. Some kind of chemical cold pack.
“Xue Yang.”
He looked up at the sound of his name.
“Are you present?”
He swallowed and took another breath. The sharp anxiety was gone, but now he felt drained and… untethered.
Mo Xuanyu leaned forward on his knees, clasping his hands together in front of him. “Okay. Listen to my voice. You’re safe here. No one will drug you or touch you without permission. Okay? Focus on the cold pack. Move it up your arm. Good. Focus on the chill and map out your body. Your arms and throat and the back of your neck.”
Xue Yang shivered as the cold spread. He let out a shaky breath as he slowly settled into his own skin again.
“There you go. Just breathe for a minute.”
He closed his eyes and pressed the pack against his face, breathing in the cool air around it. “Fuck,” he whispered.
“Welcome back.”
Xue Yang tensed and slowly lowered the pack so he could see Mo Xuanyu from the corner of his eye.
“Would you like an answer to your question now?” When Xue Yang frowned in confusion, he added, “About if you were a lair.”
He grimaced and shrugged. Not like it mattered much anyway. He definitely wouldn’t be coming back after this shit show.
“If you said yes, I would have to believe you, and then discredit everything else you said, which defeats the purpose of you being here. If you said yes and I chose not to believe you, I’ve already broken that trust, and there’s nothing I can do for you. So the more important question right now is: Are you a liar, Xue Yang?”
Xue Yang swallowed hard and tried to breathe. He knew this moment was important. Had the potential to be life changing. It was the same kind of weight he’d felt when he pissed of Chang Cian, though he’d been too young at the time to recognize it. The same as when Xingchen had asked him to move in. As when Song Lan kissed him the first time. As when Xingchen handed him a deed and title to his home with Xue Yang’s name on them.
He squeezed the cold pack hard enough it threatened to pop. “No,” he said, nearly choking on the simple word.
“Good.” Mo Xuanyu smiled and straightened. “Why don’t you take a few minutes, and I’ll go speak with Xingchen. Let him know I’d like to see you twice a week and get a schedule sorted out. You’ve had a stressful day, so we can end our session early. Come join us when you’re ready.” He waited for Xue Yang’s nod before quietly leaving.
Xue Yang closed his eyes as the door swung shut, only realizing as he slumped to his side on the couch that Mo Xuanyu apparently expected him to come back. Fucker. Like hell. He’d cancel the appointment as soon as he got home.
Except as he stared at the stupid plant that had already spread its leaves open again, he knew he’d be right here again next week.
Between classes and work and therapy, Xue Yang barely had time to breathe. He only had two semesters left before he could get his damn degree, and he’d taken an extra course this semester to make sure he’d meet all the requirements by the end. The last thing he needed was to file for his diploma and find he was short by one class.
It was better this way anyway. Things were back to awkward with him and Song Lan. Whatever weird space they’d found over the holidays was gone thanks to his fuck up.
He debated bringing it up with Mo Xuanyu just to see if he had anything to say about it, but every time he stepped into that office, his brain locked everything up and it took all his energy just to tolerate being there. He hardly remembered what they even talked about since it was so inconsequential, and he wondered why the fuck anyone would pay for that.
So far, they hadn’t had any of the deep revelations or emotional breakthroughs he expected, and he was irritated enough to say so at their next session.
“Well, that’s only going to happen if you want it to.”
Xue Yang sneered. “So it’s my fault.”
Mo Xuanyu tilted his head. “Therapy isn’t a magic pill you swallow to make everything better, and I’m not a genie who grants wishes.” He held his palms up. “All I can do is give you a safe space to vent and walk through your concerns, but unless you voice them, nothing will change.”
Xue Yang looked away, grinding his teeth and pressing his thumb into his left wrist. “Voicing them makes them real.”
“Yes,” Mo Xuanyu said softly, “but that doesn’t have to give them power over you.”
Xue Yang’s lip curled with a scoff. He wasn’t buying that bullshit in the least. Talking about shit always made things worse. Except for the very rare occurrence where it didn’t. He could count on one hand the number of times it hadn’t ended in a fight or worse, and they were all in the same twenty-four hours. Even those hardly counted, considering everything leading up to them, and even the talking had hurt.
“If you’re at the point you’ve decided you can trust me not to hurt you, perhaps you’ll let me help?”
“Can you?” he asked. He meant it to sound scathing, but it only sounded desperate.
“You’ll have to work for it. It won’t be easy, and it won’t be pretty, but if you decide that building healthier coping mechanisms and relationships is worth the fight, then yes, I can help you get there.”
Xue Yang swallowed and curled his fingers into fists. He knew something had to give. Somehow, the grand gesture of the house and… whatever the fuck was happening between him and Song Lan… As much as he wanted it, all it did was shine a light and show him how small and insignificant and dark his shadow was. As much as he might say they were lucky he’d decided to stick around, deep down, he knew he didn’t deserve them. Either of them.
Sometimes he had to wonder what he’d done in a past life to be cursed in this one. He could suffer through a thousand lifetimes worse than this one and still never deserve them. But as many times as he’d tried to give them an excuse to get rid of him, they refused. “I’ll lose them if I don’t,” he said quietly, glancing up at Mo Xuanyu, “won’t I.”
“I can’t speak for them, or predict the future, but… I’ve found that even love has its limits.”
He should have reached their breaking point over a year ago. How much slack could really be left at this point? If something had to give, he knew it had to be him. His instincts might have driven him to push them away, but he didn’t want to lose them.
He swallowed, the words cutting through his chest like glass when he said, “Help me.”
