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Struck with a blow to the shoulder, Mizuki stumbled forward. He didn’t have time to deflect or move out of the way. Another laser shot forward, through to their backline.
He was slowing them down again. He couldn’t get to the front—he was cornered until a rush of water came forth.
“I’m here, Mizuki!!” Wuyang called, spinning his staff as he landed from the cascade. A blue stream of swirling water connected to Mizuki’s back, and suddenly he didn’t feel so fatigued. Though it didn’t relieve his anxieties.
“We have to hurry! The others are ahead and we’re still—”
A device attached to Wuyang’s hip started buzzing, and a crackling voice came through.
“We have to fall back! Fall back!”
Wuyang’s eyes went wide, grabbing the device and lifting it to his mouth. “What do you mean, Sir Reinhardt?!”
Mizuki winced a little, the stream from Wuyang’s staff having subsided and he leaned against the wall, clutching his shoulder. Honestly, the stream only took his pain away, but it would always come back. And…his curse…
Mizuki sighed, blocking out the conversation Wuyang was having with the big armored tank as his vision grew hazy. In his wandering thoughts, he remembered that Reinhardt had told Wuyang to call him “Sit Reinhardt” for whatever reason—and for whatever reason Wuyang had done so happily.
The thought was making his shoulder hurt more.
Speaking of…Wuyang’s face appeared before his vision.
“Mizuki!” he called. “Mizuki, we have to take you back.”
Mizuki grumbled through his mask, forcing himself to his feet. “No—we’re going to meet with the others. We don't have…have time. We can’t afford for the mission to fail!”
Wuyang’s staff lit up, water flowed out and Mizuki swiped it away. Though it did nothing. His hand went through it, and it was still attached to his back. The water fell to bits, but an orb of water circulated Mizuki instead.
“I know how you feel, I get it, but we really should leave. The others are—”
“Fuck.” Mizuki punched the wall with his robotic arm, rendering Wuyang speechless. “I fucked it up again,” he muttered.
It was his curse. It had to be. The demons, or whatever they might call themselves, would do anything to get him killed. No matter how many charms he had, even despite his allegiance he had…but even with that, did it matter?
Did he even want to do this anymore?
“If…” Wuyang started, carefully. “If it’s the spirits again, I could make a big wave…”
“It’s not the same!” Mizuki snapped, his breathing ragged. “You’re not helping me! And your damn staff doesn’t either!” He shot out a talisman, giving himself a burst of speed as he ran off.
Before Wuyang could say anything, he was already long gone. He could have caught up to him with his staff, but…
“I just don’t know what to do, sis,” Wuyang said desperately. He was sitting beside Anran in his room at the Overwatch headquarters. A day had already passed since the last mission, which had actually ended in a success. But at the end of it, Mizuki was nowhere to be found.
“Wuyang.” Anran put her hand on his shoulder comfortingly. “You only did what you could. And besides I think Mizuki is kind of…uh…well, you know.”
Wuyang raised an eyebrow at her. “You know…what?”
“You know—like, a bit weird?”
Wuyang frowned deeply. “Sis.”
“What?” Anran threw her arms up defensively. “I’m just saying!”
An exasperated sigh fell from Wuyang’s lips as he looked down at his hands. “I just…I really want to be his friend, Anran. I think I seriously messed it up.”
He really had, in all honesty, tried very hard to get to know him. For some reason, in Wuyang’s eyes, the stronger the walls, the more determined he was to break them. He could tell Mizuki was not the type to open up so easily, which only made him want to be around him more. Learn his most inner thoughts and get to be there for him when it mattered most. He especially really loved his hat. But now he’d ruined it, surely.
“I think you just gotta give him time, little brother,” Anran said. “He probably needs space right now, but I don’t think you messed it up.”
Wuyang looked up at her, tearing his eyes away from his lap. If his sister thought so, then maybe there was a chance. “What do you suggest I…” A thought came rushing into his mind and he slapped the edge of his bedside.
“I got it! I have an idea!” He stood up quickly, leaving the room and Anran sitting on the edge of his bed. She just chuckled, shook her head, and opened up a book that was at her side with little care.
It took a whole day, but after painstaking effort, and many times pricking his finger on a needle, he managed to craft a good luck charm. He wasn’t a superstitious type himself, but he knew Mizuki was, and the last time they spoke he was getting extra anxious about it…
Wuyang ran his thumb along the turtle design on the little cloth pouch. Smooth against his skin, he didn’t see any oddities. Only that the turtle looked a bit…silly. He’d never tried to make an omamori before, and he’d definitely just now learned of its existence.
Wuyang glanced around his desk and spotted some pieces of paper. He cut them up into little shapes and wrote words on them like, “For good luck” and “To keep the spirits away” and stuffed them into the little pouch. Of course, he was no monk, so he couldn’t truly bless the charm, but…it would still make for a nice apology gift, right?
He had one more paper left and he stared at it. Overcome with an urge, he took it and wrote one last thing, stuffed it into the pouch, and attempted to tie it up. Sealing it up neatly was the hardest part of it all. Frustratingly he kept untying it, then retying it, then untying it again—
He was losing his damn mind!
Until finally, he tied the little white string through and knotted it. Raising his hands slowly, he realized he had done it. A wide, bright smile spread across his face. He took the good luck charm in his hands and turned it over and over, seeing if he thought it was alright each time. He still couldn’t get past the goofy turtle…
Wuyang sighed a little and shook his head—it would do. Only now did he realize how late it had gotten. The moon shone through his room they had given him in the Overwatch headquarters, lighting up a silvery path onto the floor. Holding the charm in his palm, he decided to seek out Mizuki.
After an hour of asking around and getting lost in the giant Overwatch building, he arrived at Mizuki’s room door. He bounced on his heels a little anxiously before knocking with the back of his hand.
Every second he waited felt much longer, but to his surprise Mizuki opened the door rather quickly. As soon as he met Mizuki’s teal eyes, he froze a little.
“Um, Mizuki, hey, I—”
“I’m sorry, Wuyang.”
Wuyang’s lips sealed shut and he blinked. But when he heard Mizuki begin to speak beneath his mask, he immediately held up his hand.
“No no no, I came here to apologize to you.” He looked down at his hand and then held out his palm to Mizuki, the charm sitting at the center. “I’m sorry I stressed you out on our last mission. Maybe I should have kept a closer eye on you and you wouldn’t have gotten hurt…it wasn’t your fault. Uh, but I made you this!”
Mizuki stared at him, eyes a bit wide. He didn’t have his hat on, so his silvery hair was more visible. Even if he couldn’t see what expression his mouth was making, he could see the confusion and shock in his eyes.
Eventually, Mizuki stuttered out, “Why do you…do this?”
Wuyang gave him an easy smile, tilting his head a bit. “Because I see you as a friend, and I…I really think we could be close.”
Mizuki turned his head away a little, halfway into his room as if trying to step away. “Stop…” he muttered.
Wuyang hummed. “Don’t wanna.”
Those two words, simple as they may be, seemed to have struck Mizuki at a standstill. He looked exactly how his enemies did at the end of his chain—completely helpless. It made Wuyang smile wider and he slipped into Mizuki’s room, half inviting himself but also figuring Mizuki wouldn’t mind.
But then, as he stepped through the threshold, Mizuki grabbed Wuyang by his collar and held him against the wall.
Wuyang gasped in surprise, the wind knocked out of him as his back hit an unmovable solid force. The taller man leaned in, eyes narrowed so sharply the bridge of his nose scrunched up slightly.
“There’s no point,” he snapped, voice low. “Why do you keep insisting? I’ll curse you too if you don’t leave—is that what you want? Do you want spirits and demons to follow you to your grave?”
Wuyang’s hand closed in around the charm securely, while the other gripped Mizuki’s wrist. The pressure he was experiencing wasn’t too great. Wuyang could tell he wasn’t fully serious. Especially after he initially apologized first, there was no way Mizuki was trying to hurt him. He just wanted to scare him off.
It was like a test.
Wuyang held onto Mizuki’s arm and tried to pry him off in defiance.
“You’re just saying that to protect me.” He spoke in almost a whisper, tone soft.
“No shit—” Mizuki blurted, a little louder than he might have intended because he stopped himself. His eyes shifted elsewhere, attention pinned to the floor beside him. He let out a sigh and loosened his hold on Wuyang a little. He didn’t fully let go, and neither did Wuyang.
The whole time, Wuyang watched that mix of complicated emotions flooding through his teal eyes. After some time, they softened. They were no longer as sharp and scrutinizing before.
Wuyang’s smile returned slowly and carefully. “So you do care about me.” He was still speaking quietly; only someone as close to him as Mizuki could have heard.
“No—! I mean—yeah…yeah, of course but, you…” Mizuki glanced back up at Wuyang, and Wuyang was just smiling happily. Something seemed to have ticked Mizuki off because he grumbled. “You’re so annoying.”
Wuyang’s smile faltered some, his eyebrows furrowing in a sad puppy look. “Hey…”
“...Sorry,” Mizuki mumbled, deflating. “You’re not annoying.”
Wuyang’s smile returned as quickly as it had gone, and he shook his head. Mizuki was about to remove his hand from Wuyang fully now, but Wuyang’s grip wouldn’t slack.
As smooth as the waves itself, he slid his palm and fingers up Mizuki’s wrist and interlocked their fingers. Then, he turned Mizuki’s palm over, his fingers holding the back of Mizuki’s hand, and slipped the good luck charm onto his opened palm.
“I still want you to have this,” he said. He stepped forward now, away from the wall and rubbing his back.
Did he have to slam into him so hard?
Mizuki stared into his palm, closing his fingers around it and then shutting the door. It was just the two of them now—alone in Mizuki’s bedroom. For some reason, Wuyang’s heart pounded anxiously. Why was he so nervous? This was his teammate—a friend—so why…
“You can sit down.” Mizuki’s voice pierced his thoughts and he flinched, turning over his shoulder at the other man.
“Oh, haha, right—” Wuyang looked around, then decided he would sit at the edge of Mizuki’s bed. The sheets were neatly laid onto the mattress. Anyone who didn’t know him may think he was just a very organized person, but Wuyang knew it was either because he didn’t sleep much or he was concerned with the fengshui of the room.
Beside him, the bed sank just a little as Mizuki sat right beside him. Wuyang’s nerves spiked and his cheeks grew warm. He anxiously rubbed his palms on his thighs and patted them a little. He couldn’t stand the silence.
“You know, the mission still went well,” he said. “We got the objective, but you weren’t there…” Wuyang was searching Mizuki’s face, but Mizuki’s eyes were still fixed on that charm. “I, uh, what I’m saying is that it wasn’t your fault at all.”
Mizuki only nodded. “Thank you, Wuyang.”
Now that Wuyang had thought about it, he rarely saw Mizuki without his full gear on. Right now, he had on a tight black and gray turtleneck that framed his figure really well. His muscles on his chest and stomach were prominent beneath, and Wuyang felt that he stared a bit longer than intended.
His mechanical arm held the charm, while he fiddled with the fabric. Wuyang’s eyes landed on the spot on his shoulder where he had been hit.
“Are you feeling better?” he asked.
Mizuki still hadn’t looked up, but he hummed in affirmation.
Wuyang inched slightly closer so their elbows brushed. The contact made Mizuki’s eyes shift towards Wuyang curiously, only to find that Wuyang wasn’t far from his face. It made him flinch slightly.
Wuyang couldn’t explain it, but his heart raced further, urging him to take a chance on something.
“You should take off your mask,” he murmured.
Mizuki blinked, his lashes quivering slightly. “What—why?”
Wuyang shrugged. “Because it’s just us.” A pause. “You shouldn’t have to hide from me.” His words were gentle like the flap of a bird’s wings, but so certain. At this point, he didn’t want to back down. He had always wanted to keep Mizuki at his side, and he was unsure why up until now.
As he watched Mizuki give in a little and slowly detach his mask, setting it aside, a warm smile spread across Wuyang’s features. He leaned in some with his palm pressed into the bed.
What Mizuki had seen in his eyes at this moment was unknown to Wuyang. What Mizuki saw was a span of stars, flickering softly in those brown eyes, captivating him. His words were stolen, and Wuyang was the one that took them away.
“Handsome,” Wuyang whispered.
Mizuki’s face flushed immediately. His lips were pressed into a thin line—definitely shy, and unable to respond to such a compliment. So he blurted out, “What’s wrong with you?”
It probably hadn’t been what he intended to say, nor how he wanted to sound, but a sorrowful expression fell over Wuyang’s face. His lovely smile fell, and his eyes looked dejected.
It happened fast. A hand wrapped around the back of Wuyang’s head, fingers pressed carefully into his hair and pulled him forward. His head tilted up, guided, until his lips were utterly silenced from saying another word.
Wuyang’s heart rose up into his throat, beating so quickly he could even feel it in his fingertips. This man was only in a state of shock for about a moment before he kissed him back. Unsure at first, but the longer it lasted the more he wanted.
Mizuki pulled away, catching his breath and his eyes half-lidded as he watched Wuyang’s equally flushed face. Wuyang may have been in a daze, but he still got goosebumps from the way Mizuki stared at him.
He crawled over, leaning more of his bodyweight against Mizuki’s, his right arm being used as a support. Their lips brushed one another’s again as Wuyang’s gaze flickered to those lips.
They weren’t red enough.
“You’re what’s wrong with me,” Wuyang murmured. He leaned in and closed the gap once more, holding a tremendous amount of fervor behind it. Mizuki matched him, but he could tell he was inexperienced. Was this his first kiss? To have such an honor… Wuyang kissed him so roughly he forced Mizuki’s head back, and a muffled sound escaped him. He pulled away a bit, but Wuyang chased his lips.
“You…mm,, that’s…a bit dangerous, yeah?”
Wuyang smiled as he captured those soft lips again, fully crawling on top of him until Mizuki couldn’t hold both of their weight and fell backward onto the bed. He wrapped his arms around Wuyang’s neck, taking him down with him.
A soft chuckle fell from his parted lips. “I’ve never really been one to play it safe, Mizu.”
The nickname that Wuyang had given him so suddenly must have been the reason why Mizuki became like puddy in his hands. Or, one of the reasons. They were both so lost in the touchings and the kisses that, somewhere down the line, Wuyang had completely abandoned his shirt and was in the process of getting Mizuki’s off.
“Is this okay?” Wuyang asked, his breath against Mizuki’s cheek.
Something cold wrapped around Wuyang’s ankle and he flinched a little. Mizuki tugged, keeping Wuyang in place. “If I wanted you to leave…I would have stopped you by now.” Wuyang’s flushed cheeks colored his features handsomely as he blinked in surprise.
But then his urges took over him again and he helped slip Mizuki’s shirt off, revealing bare skin. This was something Wuyang never would have thought he would have the pleasure of experiencing. His fingers traced over his skin and toned muscle as he leaned in and peppered his neck and jaw in kisses and bites.
Mizuki’s breath was slightly ragged, clearly bothered by a more physical reaction his body was having. Wuyang slipped his hand down into Mizuki’s pants and ran his palm along Mizuki’s hardness. Mizuki gasped, his hold on Wuyang’s back tightened and the chains around Wuyang’s ankle loosening slightly. He kissed him, their tongues pressed firmly in Mizuki’s mouth and drawing saliva to their lips.
How much of this inside of him had been built up? How much of this desire was pent up over the course of him knowing Mizuki? Had it begun as soon as they’d met? Or their first mission?
Where Mizuki was kind but distant, Wuyang found that mysterious side so attractive. That was why he had to see him break down and become vulnerable. That was why he so badly wanted to keep him by his side—he wanted to be the one to see him so vulnerable.
Mizuki moaned into the kiss, panting and separating from the kiss again for air while Wuyang’s hand continued to work him. The sounds of Mizuki unraveling under his touch…it was too much. Wuyang groaned a little, his own length throbbing beneath his pants. His wet, reddened lips left kisses all over Mizuki as he whined.
“Mizuuu…” His breath left heat against Mizuki’s exposed skin. “I…I need…”
“Hnnag—mm ah— Wuyang,,” Mizuki bit back another low moan so he could speak. “What…do you needmm?” He closed his fingers over his chains again, wrapping them around Wuyang’s torso and pulling him close—their bare chests pressed together, leaving no room for escape or air.
At that instance, Mizuki may have felt the bulge in Wuyang’s pants pressing into his leg, which elicited a deep moan from the other man.
“You,” he gasped out, removing his hand from Mizuki’s pants now to palm the bed sheets. He bucked his hips desperately against Mizuki’s own bulge, and a sharp moan dripped out.
As much as Wuyang may have wanted to escalate it further, he was rendered immovable, only allowing him to grind helplessly against the man beneath him. A truly delicate sight.
Mizuki’s back arched slightly, his legs wrapping around Wuyang's torso. “Mmn—ah,, Wuyang, how—mngh how badly do you want me?”
“So bad,” whined Wuyang, wetness at the corners of his mouth as though he were salivating at the thought of having him.
“Beg,” Mizuki murmured.
Considering the state Wuyang was in, he didn’t think twice. Eyes half-lidded and filled with an intense, sultry gaze, on the man beneath him, he continued to grind against him. Their bodies practically close to merging, and the coldness of the chains on his flesh only made him ache more.
“Please, Mizu…hah,,,p-please…mng I want you so bad.” His voice was bordering on a whimper—and how could Mizuki refuse such a plea?
Mizuki loosened the chains, and as soon as he did, his pants were practically yanked off of him. Shaking the coldness off, Wuyang undid his own pants and kicked them away. Mizuki was in full view of all the toned musculature of Wuyang’s body, which he always found quite jarring compared to his personality.
His arms were big, shoulders broad and as he moved the muscles in his biceps twitched. All the way down to his navel and midriff, where dark hair rested just above his boxers.
In a daze, Mizuki bit his lip a little, lost in the expanse of Wuyang’s body. What was unknown to him at this moment was just how crazy Wuyang had been driven; both skin to skin, hardly anything keeping them apart now. Their cocks pressed together, wetness at the tip of their boxers, as Wuyang sloppily kissed Mizuki again. In between the kisses, a few breaths were taken, and some words. Soft, desperate moanings eating away by the other as their lips came together over and over—slotted like puzzle pieces.
“Do…you have lube…?” Wuyang asked through the fervent kissing.
Mizuki could barely get his lips parted to speak without Wuyang eating him alive, but his entire body yearned. “Y-yeah…” One of his hands slipped off of Wuyang’s back, pointing to the dresser beside his bed. “Top drawer.”
Wuyang separated from Mizuki for a moment, reluctantly, as he sat up. He climbed over Mizuki and opened the drawer, finding it easily and he smiled. A hint of mischief shimmered in his eyes when his gaze fell over Mizuki, sprawled on the bed and a flushed mess. He raised an eyebrow.
“You just…have some? I didn’t expect you to,” he said. He slipped off his boxers and his cock sprung forth without restraints, slightly red at the tip. Mizuki stared. No, maybe gawked was the right word.
Wuyang crawled on top of Mizuki now, his hand pressed into the bed sheets while his other hand laid atop Mizuki’s heart. It pounded against the cage of his body and unto Wuyang’s warm palm. “Mizu…have you done this before?”
Mizuki swallowed, his body scorching hot and his mind becoming mush. “I-I…no……well, yeah, but not with…someone…” His cool demeanor was cracking completely and he was unraveling before Wuyang like a ribbon. Wuyang liked this look on him way too much. It was what he had wanted—to see him vulnerable. Ever since they had met he wanted to tear down those walls and see into him. Peer into his soul and feel around. Now, he hadn’t exactly expected to be…feeling around him in such a way.
Not that he was complaining.
It was just what his heart ached for. What his heart started to beat for and yearn to have.
He leaned in and kissed Mizuki’s jaw and neck with a smile on his lips.
“Well,” Wuyang began, “it’s definitely much more fun this way. Let me take this off…”
“You…” Mizuki couldn’t find the words, and eventually never did as Wuyang pulled his boxers off too. Mizuki’s cock was strained and red, beads of precum accumulating at the tip. Dipping his fingers into the lube, he coated them enough and then began to push open the inside of Mizuki’s entrance.
Mizuki gasped, digging his nails into the sheets. “W-Wuyang—”
“If it hurts, tell me, please.” Wuyang’s fingers continued to work him, and Mizuki shook his head.
“N-no—mngh keep going—”
He did so, slightly faster now. His other hand lifted Mizuki’s legs just a bit in order to get better access, and Mizuki let him.
“Here.” Wuyang motioned to the lube container. “Take some on your hands…put them here—and be generous.”
Mizuki nodded and he reached for it, breath ragged, as he coated his fingers, then his entire palm and stroked Wuyang along the side of his cock. A low moan from deep inside Wuyang’s throat bubbled out, as if he was so sensitive from not being touched that he might as well burst.
“F-fuck—” he gasped out.
Mizuki grinned and though his eyes were almost glossed over, he could hear the pleasure rising from Wuyang’s lips and it gave him goosebumps. He slathered Wuyang’s cock more while Wuyang added a third finger, forcing a whine from the other man. At this point, it was a competition to see who would break first.
And as for who won—who could say?
“Mmngh—ah,,” Wuyang gasped again, moaning softly before his legs began to tremble. He couldn’t take it anymore. Tossing aside the lube, he removed his fingers swiftly and snatched Mizuki’s wrist. He pried his hand off and pinned it to the bed above Mizuki’s head in one motion, veins showing in his arms.
He lifted Mizuki’s legs more before lining himself up and pushing into him.
All of this was so sudden and quick that Mizuki couldn’t even process it until the tip was nearly in and Mizuki was gasping. His legs wrapped around Wuyang’s torso, pulling him in more, forcing him deeper.
“Ah—hhmn,, Wuyang, f–fuck—!”
Wuyang bucked his hips into him, slow at first, panting from the pleasure of it all while Mizuki was coming undone beneath him. So willingly, his name dripped from his opened mouth like honey.
“Ohh, Mizu,” Wuyang breathed out, a huskiness to it. “Baobei, how is it that…I fit so well in you? You’re—mnh not even tight at all.”
The more he spoke, the more his thrusts turned fervent. Heavy with passion and a power behind them. Mizuki was at his mercy completely, his head tilted up and back arching. His wanton moans and whines only added fuel to the fire and forced Wuyang to drive deeper into him until he could no longer.
Until his cock throbbed against his insides and stretched Mizuki so much. He felt entirely full, all the way to the hilt. So much so that with that next pull back and thrust, it struck right against his sensitive spot.
“A-Ah…!! Hahn…!! O-ohhmn—!” His arms reached for Wuyang’s back, digging his nails into those tensed muscles. Wuyang leaned forward more, pressing their bodies so close there was no longer any space between them. The look on Mizuki’s face was too hard to resist, and he captured those lips with his own. The kiss was sloppy and it was hardly easy to stay connected with such repetitive motion—their tongues grazed lips, and Mizuki panted heavily against Wuyang’s mouth.
“You are so hot—” Wuyang whispered, grunting softly.
There was no way Mizuki could even respond, his brows furrowing a little. In his eyes, he was seeing stars all over the ceiling and on Wuyang’s face. He wasn’t even sure if he was even here anymore. Had he ascended? The pleasure was so indescribable. It really was like nothing that he’d ever experienced before.
It was more fun this way.
“W-Wuyang,,” Mizuki whined, throwing his head to the side a little. “I’m—I’m close,,,”
Wuyang kissed Mizuki more, biting and leaving marks on his neck and chest. “I-it’s okay, Mizu, hah—we…can—together…”
Mizuki only nodded a little, his breaths coming in more ragged and heavy. Wuyang’s arms snaked around Mizuki’s ass and torso, holding him in place while he rammed into him. Each thrust elicited a high, whiney moan from the man under him. He couldn’t last much longer at this rate. As Mizuki came, strings of white layering on his tip and his stomach, and Wuyang pumped him full he couldn’t anymore.
They were chest to chest, and practically sticking together now. Wuyang was the first to catch his breath, and for Mizuki it took him a moment to return to this reality. Still, Wuyang clung to Mizuki, nuzzling his nose into the crook of his neck, listening to Mizuki’s panting. His skin was flush and warmed, even his mechanical arm was sort of cool on Wuyang’s back.
“You did…so well…” Wuyang mumbled, tiredly.
Mizuki’s fingers traced circles on Wuyang’s bare back, his chest heaving. His breath slowly began to mellow out and he swallowed the saliva pooling in his mouth.
“Me?” he asked, then laughed. “No…you did all the work, hah.”
Wuyang hummed, a wide smile on his lips as he peppered Mizuki with kisses.
“Let’s get cleaned up,” he said.
Mizuki fiddled with the omamori charm in his hands again, his hair freshly washed, with Wuyang in bed beside him. His teal eyes seemed to take a strong interest in that goofy tortoise he managed to create on it. Wuyang rolled over onto his side to watch Mizuki, a smile stretching all the way to his eyes.
“You know,” he began, “turtles can represent longevity and strength.” He adjusted and propped himself up onto his shoulder. “In certain stories, the turtle’s shell is supposed to be Heaven, and underneath is Earth. It represents that heaven and earth are united…or something, heh.”
Mizuki smiled, glancing at Wuyang from the corner of his eye. He chuckled and turned to face him. “How long have you known?”
“Huh? About the turtle?”
“No, dummy, about…this.”
“Ohh…” Wuyang let his arm rest now, tucked beneath the pillow as he thought. He thought about when they first met, and their very first mission. After Talon had started to become more active again, the stakes had gotten even higher, so they recruited more people. That was when Mizuki came in at the height of it all. Wuyang still felt he had more to learn about this man, but…all that he needed to know right now was that whatever they felt for each other was the same.
So he laughed a little and said: “Honestly, I wasn't totally sure until recently, but ever since I met you all I've wanted was to be beside you.”
Mizuki chuckled, clicking his tongue affectionately. “You’re like a dog.”
Wuyang blinked. “Huh?”
Mizuki set the charm down on his desk and then scooted closer, squishing Wuyang’s cheeks and furrowing his brows. He examined his eyes closely before nodding. “Yeah, you’re like a puppy. Like when a dog chooses who they want to be next to all day long, and it’s a bit annoying.” He pinched Wuyang’s nose before he let go.
“Ack!!” He rubbed his nose, his brown eyes wide in surprise. Then he grinned. “But it’s an annoying that you can…learn to like?”
Mizuki was silent for a moment, then smiled. “Yeah.”
Wuyang wrapped his arms around Mizuki, pulling him in closer. “If I’m like the annoying dumb dog, then you're a fake nonchalant cat.”
“I am not fake nonchalant!”
Wuyang nuzzled into Mizuki’s neck, closing his eyes and just humming an mhm. It didn’t take long for Wuyang to pass out, but Mizuki was still awake a moment longer. His arms were tightly embracing Wuyang, his cheek on top of his head.
“If I’m a cat…” he mumbled, mostly to himself, “I wanna be a black cat.”
“Mmkay…”
“Ah? I thought you were asleep?!”
A soft, quiet laughter before he was out like a light again.