When Wenzhi woke, the first thing he felt was warmth.

It wasn’t the ambient heat of the room or a distant draft. It was close. Wrapped around him.

His eyes snapped open. He was in Xinyuan’s arms, held like something he never intended to let go of.

Sunlight filtered through the curtains, spilling softly across the room, Xinyuan’s room, and for a brief second, everything felt deceptively calm.

Then the memory hit.

The rift. The crawlers. The oxygen drop...

Wenzhi blinked hard, grounding himself, only to realize Xinyuan was still asleep.

His head rested against Wenzhi’s chest, breath slow and steady, dark hair falling across his face, glasses discarded somewhere out of sight.

This was too close. Way too close.

Wenzhi lifted a hand and smacked his forehead lightly in disbelief before his irritation snapped fully into place. "Get off me."

He didn’t wait. His leg came up sharply and shoved.

Xinyuan’s eyes snapped open. One dark, one a faded, dusty red. A flicker of confusion crossed his gaze, the look of someone still caught between dreams, but it didn’t matter.

Wenzhi pushed again, harder this time, and Xinyuan let himself be knocked off balance, dropping to the floor beside the bed with a soft thud.

"Ow..! That hurts."

Wenzhi sat up with tense shoulders, glowering at Xinyuan. He looked thoroughly insulted, as if the mere fact of their shared existence was an offense.

Xinyuan remained seated, one hand rubbing the back of his head as he looked up. His eyes were still clouded with sleep.

It was frustrating. Why did he have to be so attractive?

Wenzhi dragged a hand down his face, pressing his fingers hard against his temple before exhaling sharply. "...What happened?"

Xinyuan shifted, drawing one knee up and resting his chin against it.

"You passed out when your oxygen levels dropped," He sounded tired, his voice gravelly as he spoke. "I cleared the rift and brought you back here. So... there was no need for the facility. You were under before the corruption even hit."

Wenzhi exhaled slowly.

That was reckless. On multiple levels.

He’d almost gotten himself killed. Twice. In one fucking night.

"...And your backlash?" he asked, tone flat.

There was no real concern in his eyes. Just a cold sense of necessity.

Xinyuan watched him for a heartbeat. Then he moved. He didn’t touch him, not yet, but he shifted just enough to kill the space between them.

"It was quieter," he said. "...When I was holding you."

There it was.

Wenzhi’s eyes narrowed.

Xinyuan leaned his arm against the edge of the bed, tilting his head up just enough to meet Wenzhi’s gaze fully.

The red in his left eye deepened, growing just a shade darker. "I want more."

Wenzhi watched him, weighing the options before him.

"Fine." He gave a heavy sigh, the sound of someone giving in without giving up. "You can hold me."

Xinyuan’s eyes lit up. He rose to his feet and closed the distance in a single step, his arms wrapping around Wenzhi as he pushed him back onto the bed.

Wenzhi hit the mattress with a soft exhale, irritation already rising, but Xinyuan didn’t give him space to react. He held him tightly like letting go wasn’t an option.

Wenzhi let out a slow breath, his hands lifting before settling against Xinyuan’s bare back, his fingers pressing against warm skin as he huffed under his breath.

Xinyuan buried his face into the crook of his neck. His breath brushed warm against Wenzhi’s skin and Wenzhi’s jaw tightened.

"Before the rift appeared," Xinyuan murmured, his voice low and muffled against him, "where did you go?"

Wenzhi’s body locked up. His heart tripped over itself, a sharp jolt of surprise, but he quickly smoothed his features into a flat mask. "...Do you need to know my whereabouts now?"

Xinyuan didn’t lift his head. "It was 1 p.m."

Wenzhi’s irritation spiked instantly.

The tranquilizer. It should’ve worked. Unless....

His thoughts cut off abruptly.

...Did he know?

Wenzhi had tried to shake him awake last night, but there was no response. Yet, the moment the rift alert triggered, Xinyuan snapped back to life instantly.

Wenzhi frowned.

"I think that’s enough," He said, a chill settling into his voice. "Don’t you have somewhere to be? Your time at the Rift suppression corps starts today, doesn’t it?"

His hand pressed against Xinyuan’s shoulder, trying to push him back.

He didn’t budge.

It felt like pushing against something rooted.

"Get off." A sharp edge slipped into his voice now, annoyance bleeding through.

Xinyuan lifted his head slowly. Their faces were suddenly close. Too close. Loose strands of his hair brushed against Wenzhi’s cheek, his eyes fixed... focused in a way that wasn’t casual anymore. Not that there was ever anything casual about the way he looked at him.

He needed guiding.

Wenzhi turned his head, avoiding that gaze.

"Get off," His voice dropped, but the edge was sharper now. "I have to go too. And I’d rather you don’t pull me into your room next time. Privacy exists."

Xinyuan didn’t move. "But I—"

"This," Wenzhi cut in flatly, "is what happens when you chase after a guide who doesn’t want you."

Xinyuan didn’t react the way most people would. There was no anger, no confusion, just a steady, unblinking gaze.

"I don’t want any guide," he said. "I want you."

Wenzhi inhaled slowly, controlling the urge to roll his eyes. "Get. Off."

This time, Xinyuan moved reluctantly.

He pulled back, expression tightening faintly. There was something almost childlike in the way his brows drew together before he turned away.

He walked straight to the bathroom and slammed the door shut. Hard.

The impact echoed through the room, cracks spidering faintly along the wall from the force.

"How did I fail so miserably?" Wenzhi pushed himself upright slowly, rolling his shoulders as tension settled back into place.

He rose and stalked out, the question of his failure looping in his mind.

By the time he reached his room, he was frantic, fingers tearing through his hair. Then, his ankle slammed into the bed frame. The collision of metal and wood was deafening.

He crouched instantly, baring the electric restraint with a look of pure loathing. "This has to go."