Hospital and discoveries

"Xiao Wei wake up...Shen Wei?"

A breath of frustration, then, "Chef Shen!"

His eyes opened in panic and his head shot up, only to be grasped by strong hands, pressing gently but firmly on his chest. Pain ignited in his arm and every instinct born from years of survival, told him to fight, as that instant fear for Ye Zun's safety surged to the forefront of his very being.

"Easy Shen Wei. You were nearly robbed and murdered. No need to do yourself in too."

Zhao Yunlan.

He knew that voice better than any other. Sometimes, when the days were hard and he was alone, he would plug in his headphones and go about his day with Zhao's videos playing in his ear. His voice could center Shen Wei like nothing else, make him forget his troubles, his loneliness or the constant stress of the restaurant. He was a leader with no confidante, no deputy and the weight of all his brother had abandoned. Zhao Yulan gave him life. From all these hours of rapt listening though, he had become achingly familiar with every tone and inflection Zhao used, from bright enthusiasm to carefully hidden exhaustion and every mood in-between, because to expand his career, Zhao had needed to be as visual as possible. This meant two or three videos a week.

So, he knew from the tone that Zhao was not worried. He sounded the way he did when Da Qing was taking far too long, in setting up. Slightly agitated, but here was obviously safe, because if this really was Zhao Yunlan, not a strange dream, then he knew everything was manageable if not exactly fine. The ceiling was white and the world spun violently, nausea rising like a tidal wave, but when he moved his head to the left, where the voice was emanating from, all he could see was dark blue.

"Shh... Shen Wei. It's okay. You're in the hospital."

Hospital. He closed his eyes once more as memory returned shakily and grief so powerful it stole his breath. Yes. That was right. He had been with Zhao Yulan....Ye Zun was dead.

He moaned slightly as he tried to sit up, breathing in that enticing cologne and and the faint scent of rosin, slowly breathing out to control the fresh surge of pain, both from his heart and from his left arm. Then he opened his eyes, to see the stark white room of a hospital and looked down at the bandages, to avoid dark eyes.

When he could breathe and he had gained some form of courage, after a few seconds, those foxfire dark eyes were watching him, sharp and beautiful, as if waiting for him to speak or faint like a damsel. He moved swiftly past that and asked in as a steady a voice as he could from years of working in kitchens, "What happened?"

Zhao shifted on the edge of the second bed, his face rueful, but that perfect voice was pitched low, carefully not too loud for his aching head, "I came back out and you were being attacked by two assholes. I beat the hell out them and they ran. I told the police, but you needed medical help and so, I brought you here, to the hospital."

Zhao was always competent and never said more than he needed to really, but this was so calm, so succinct and delivered so neutrally, it made Shen wonder how many times he had needed to explain matters, to a recently conscious person in a hospital. For his own mental health, he decided to move pass the 'beat the hell out them' part as well. Clearly he hadn't been arrested and who knows what Shen Wei would have done if it had been Zhao on the ground. He flushed in embarrassment, at needing to be saved and could all too easily imagine Ye Zun's expression.

When he looked back, he saw the naked worry, which disappeared as soon as their gazes locked, becoming an easy expression that was in no way true. "A concussion?" He ventured hopefully.

Zhao nodded. "A very mild one. They said you were free to leave as soon as you woke up." He gestured to his arm, "A laceration, cleaned and stitched. Should heal in a few days."

Definitely spent time with injured, hospitalized people. The exact information and nothing else to confuse or worry, stated calmly so as not to cause panic, he presumed.

The strange thing was that it was working. Shen felt calmer knowing that Zhao was here and so touched that he had stayed when most people he knew, would have left him here without a second thought. He flexed the arm and nodded when it just twinged. You did not make it as a chef without injury and his old martial arts class had seen him take the brunt of a few accidents, which was why this incident was especially humiliating. But, if Zhao was treating it as an accident, he could too.

The last time he had been in a hospital, his brother had just died and the times before that were always when he was at his most helpless. He wanted to leave immediately, so ignoring the now receding headache and painful arm, he moved to sit fully. Zhao watched non-judgmentally, without saying a word until he turned to the side. Then a strong arm was wrapped around his waist, easing him to the edge with a worryingly practiced hand. "You could stay here for a little while. They said they would prefer to observe you."

He was not staying and that made it sound like he was bird in a cage, doing tricks, but it was hard to get angry with Zhao. "I'm fine. Thank you, Zhao Yulan for saving me."

In so many ways he was grateful for the attack as it allowed him to say those words, inadequate as they were to encompass what Zhao had done for him. Zhao shook his head and eased him upright, letting him lean on him without qualm, as the world tilted. "If I hadn't forgotten my car keys..."

Guilt he understood. It was the only part of this, that he actually understood."No lasting harm." Then a horrible thought rose to the forefront of his mind, "Your instruments!"

Zhao laughed softly and struggled to put Shen's coat back on him, as Shen fought for for enough coordination to help. "No lasting harm. I bought strong cases. Okay, let's get you out of here then."

It took half an hour to escape the hospital. Zhao declared he was taking him home and asked with sensitivity Shen Wei did not expect, if there was someone waiting at home, or someone he should call for him. Ye Zun would have pointed out the obvious, with Zhao's quick satisfied smile when Shen replied that he lived alone and was perfectly fine for work tomorrow. He didn't work it out until he was sitting in the car, ignoring Zhao's solicitous half-glances and the warm feelings they brought.

He was still mulling over the possible answers, while Zhao very kindly prepared tea in the kitchen, complimenting him on his apartment as he went.

It was so surreal. Like a dream or a particularly detailed fantasy, because one thought dominated over everything else. Zhao Yunlan was in his apartment. Filling his space with his warmth, his scent and voice, breathing life into the gray corners as he chatted happily, not seeming to care that Shen was not responding. Thank Heavens he had tidied yesterday and washed down the kitchen, after his trial run with a new take on miniature dim sum.

Tonight had certainly ended differently than what Shen Wei had hoped, but he had enjoyed every moment spent with Zhao, felt buoyed by his music and humbled by his gift. Did it matter that Zhao wanted to know if he was alone?

The clock read nine thirty. Zhao must be starving by now. He was a chef and one of the best, he should be making something for dinner, especially as Zhao suffered from stomach aches and he did have something things in the fridge. It was so rude not to offer him something and while his arm hurt, it was not a impediment really.

He would make dinner, they would talk and maybe if he was lucky, they could begin a friendship. Yes. He rose from the sofa, where Zhao had guided him and walked into the kitchen, thinking of all the things he could make. Zhao looked up, from where he stood pouring hot water into the teapot.

How could eyes so dark be so luminescent? How could he not have fallen in love with this man?

"Are you sure you're all right?" He asked, voice soft and eyes so bright.

Shen smiled shyly, shamed by his unsteady feet and lack of competency just nodding once, "The headache is almost gone now. Let me help you."

He moved forward, aiming for the fridge as Zhao moved back towards the stove. The kitchen was small, so as both moved, they collided in a tangle of legs and arms. Shen made a grab for Zhao as he twisted and nearly fell, catching him against his own chest. Surprise lit that beautiful face, then those wondrous fingers gripped Shen's arms, before sliding and stroking, his expression becoming thoughtful. "How you look at me Shen Wei..." He breathed, a hand coming up to stroke his cheek.

He should move back. His body would not respond and his eyes closed as those callused fingers skated over his cheekbone. It had been years since anyone had touched him like this.

"I..."

The fingers followed the contour of skin, brushing over his lower lip, testing and teasing. Now, would be the point an uninterested, sane man would run. Shen Wei just breathed in that scent and opened his eyes to stare into those black depths, to admiring that curving mouth.

This must be a dream.

"You look at me like I'm your world."

You are. He wanted to say it, to shape the words that were a truth born from his very soul, but his heart was pounding from the thought of Zhao hurting himself and the proximity of his Savior, the heat of him was stealing all rational thought. His own traitorous fingers lifted and touched the furnace of that sculpted chest and like a bestowed agreement, that touch, had that gorgeous poet's mouth pressed against his own, in a fleeting kiss.

His mind shut down for a few seconds. It was heat and soft lips caressing his own so skillfully, his knees that were always so strong, weakened gradually. His hands were now gripping that blue t-shirt, when he opened eyes, glued shut with pleasure to look at Zhao as his Savior and hero, stepped back slowly. Zhao didn't completely release him, those beguiling eyes strangely questioning as he licked his own lips. "Do you know how many times I've thought of kissing you Shen Wei in the last few hours? Dreamed of you?"

"Do you want me to leave?"

Leave? Zhao Yunlan had just kissed him, just given him a taste of everything he had never had. There was no way he was leaving. There was no choice but to step forward pressing Zhao's unresistant body against the countertop, seizing that glorious mouth in another kiss.

He wasn't stepping up to the cliff edge, he was happily throwing himself from the ledge. Despite knowing that this man unlike even his own twin brother, had the power to end him by word or action. In doing this, he was handing this tempestuous man his heart, his soul and the executioner's blade. If at any point Zhao decided he didn't want him, life as he had painstakingly rebuilt it with enthralling violins and solace giving cellos, would shatter permanently. Nothing would save him.

He didn't care. In these hands he would place his unworthy self, because even one night, just one more kiss might be enough to sustain him for another year, like rain in the desert. He had loved him for over eighteen months, from the concert before his world was destroyed to this very day. This was the man who shaped him, saved him and even remotely, separated by videos and countries, comforted him.

Two hours later, sated and impossibly happy, he remembered about making dinner. "Do you like dim sum?"

Zhao answer was a deep laugh, Shen had never heard before, "I love dim sum."

Zhao Yunlan's smile tasted of cherries and his arms held all the strength Shen Wei would ever need.