For the make it happy prompt could do YaoYutong in some sort of criminal AU where like Zhan Yao is gang leader and Yutong is his guard? Maybe a rival takes Yutong to try and extort Zhan Yao but Yutong tells them Mouse has always made it clear that he wouldn’t come for Yutong? Sorry for the rambling mess!!
“He’s not coming for me,” Bai Yutong said from beyond the warehouse door.
His heart squeezed. If Yutong actually believed that, he had done everything wrong. The damn mouse was supposed to depend on him. He’d have to amp up his plans.
Waiting for the rest of his people to get into place, Zhan Yao’s finger protest the force with which he held his gun. Not that he noticed, all of his attention was on rescuing Bai Yutong.
He whistled. “Your boss must be an idiot. Why would the Tiger of the West End come for me? I’m just a lowly guard.”
Several grunts jumped out.
Zhan Yao kicked. The warehouse door bounced from the force of his kick. As he ran in, he shouted, “Now.”
His worry was misplaced. The groans and clatter came from a guy on the ground. Yutong glanced at him, massaging his hand. A few bruises scattered across his cheek.
Three. He noted so he knew exactly how many of the Angels people had to make an example of. They’d been a thorn in his side so a while but he couldn’t tolerate anyone threatening what was his.
He flipped his palm over.
Zhan jogged over. Giving Yutong a once-over, he passed his second gun over.
Yutong handled it with ease.
“Boss, we got to go. Their backup coming.”
Resisting the urge to pat Yutong down, he ordered everyone to move with a tilt of his hand.
The air filled with gunfire. The ten feet between them and the armored car became littered with metal. Safely inside the car, he reached for Yutong. A person appeared in his periperhy.
If I pull Yutong in, we’ll be fine. If I wait a second, I might… he weighed all of his options and the risk in a second.
He leapt out. Their bodies slammed into the concrete. Fireworks lit up behind his eyes.
The world went hazy at the edges. All he recalled before it completely it flickered out he heard Yutong cursing him out.
Hands weighed down Zhan Yao’s stomach. A pristine towel went dark with blood. Perhaps he should have been concerned, but all he could focus on was the expression on Bai Yutong.
His guard’s brow furrowed. His mouth formed a tight line, like a hundred grievances were queued up behind a locked gate. That he refused to nag said more about how shook up he was about the gun shoot than if he had cried. Zhan Yao swore he could spot a tremble of worry in his hand and count the pulse in his temple of anger. If anyone asked him to describe the safehouse he occupied, he would not for the life of him recall anything more than this expression.
“You finally learned to hold you tongue,” he remarked
He exhaled sharply. With a glare, he said, “You know what you did wrong. Che. Why waste my breath?”
“Is that anyway to talk to your boss?”
Scoffing again, he lessened his pressure. “What kind of boss jumps in front of his bodyguard?”
“Hold it.” He gave Zhan Yao no face. He dug around in a first aid kit. His hands jerky and rushed. His every action tinged with begrudging concern.
Lightly applying pressure, he cut off the quip on the tip of his tongue. Allowing the pause to linger, he took in the steady Yutong with his attention wholly focused on Zhan Yao.
One. Two. Three. He paced it out. The silence had to pool but not have flow. His statement couldn’t drown amidst the conversation.
“The kind of boss in love with his subordinate.”
The crinkling from the bag stilted.
“You got shot on purpose,” he deduced in a tone that declared no doubts.
Yutong continued gathering items as if a mafia boss had not indeed just confess to loving him. His motions smooth like he had done this too many times. He lined up the materials in a row, gesturing for Zhan Yao to take off his shirt.
Complying, Zhan Yao licked his lips. He thought, Shall I be honest?
“I saved your life, you owe me now.”
“Protected your nine lives hundreds of times now.” He clicked his tongue. Rolling gloves on, he shook his head dismissively.
Waving his hand, he tossed that way. “As is your job.”
“You owe me your life,” he stated but his tone claimed Bai Yutong. You’re mine. You are not allowed to leave my side.
His fingers prodded and examined Zhan Yao with force just shy of painful. Annoyance melded into his concern. He dabbed on the antiseptic and followed harshly with alcohol.
“Our first year of university.”
Processing that statement took Zhan Yao a moment. Perhaps having this conversation suffering from mild blood lost was a miscalculation. It clicked. Yutong had saved him from several accidents throughout that year.
“If we’re keeping track anyway…"
He swallowed, forcing his will through. “You failed your duty.”
“Zhan Yao,” he interrupted, “you crazy bastard. You don’t need to do dumb fucking mind games to do whatever the fuck you’re trying to do.”
Gesturing to card his fringe, he froze at the sight of his gloves. He sighed. Rolling his eyes, he said, “Say it and you can your dumb plans.”
“Say what?” he said, smiling.
“Damn street rat. Say it.” He bared his teeth, clearly conveying that he would never say it first.
He carefully wrapped the gauze around Zhan Yao’s stomach. His motion was thoughtful like Zhan Yao was something precious to be cared for. He scoffed to himself.
“You could have said that instead of getting shot, idiot.”
“I am not a good man,” he said in way of explanation. You’re too good for me. How else would I keep you?
“If you mean all the bullshit you did to get me fired, poach me, and then make sure everyone sure as hell kept anyone interested in me away, I know what an absolute ass you are.”
He taped the bandage in place. Pushing off his knees, he grabbed Zhan Yao by the shoulders. “You’re crazy, obsessed, fucking idiot. And I am the fucking moron who can’t help but want to take care of you.”
“Aren’t you angry?” He blinked. The real questions clogged his throat. Don’t you hate me for stealing your future? Don’t you hate me for not loving you enough to let you go? Don’t you hate me for trying to manipulate you?
“Hmpfft, do you think you were the only one playing games, kitty?”
He smirked in a wicked, mischievous way like the two were in on a joke no one understood. “So next time, you get behind me when bullets go flying.”
