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randomprose · 8 months

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“Tian, come on. You’ve been in your office the whole day.” Guan Shan appears by the doorway with a frown on his face. “I’m leaving for work and you’re still cooped up in here.”

“Cheng wants these documents tonight. I need to finish this.” He Tian runs his fingers through his temple, massaging the pain that’s been pulsating in his head for the past couple of hours. “Don’t worry about me, alright? Take care and drive safe. I’ll probably still be here when you get back,” he mumbles the last part.

“At least turn on the lights here. You’re gonna wreck your eyes working in the dark.”

“Don’t. It’s fine. I work better in the dark.”

“You’re having a headache because you’ve been staring in the screen the whole day in the dark. Why are you—”

“I said I’m fine!” He Tian shouts, head whirling to glare at Guan Shan poised to switch on the lights. The pain has now traveled to the back of his eyes. “Jesus, Guan Shan. I’ll finish sooner if you stop bugging me. Go to work already and leave me to finish mine peace.”

Guan Shan doesn’t say anything but He Tian does catch him working his jaw and the tick of his eyebrow. Telltale signs that he’s pissed. He hears more than sees him leave and on any other time, He Tian would follow him with apologies already falling out of his lips. But this is an important assignment and the sooner he finish it, the sooner he can make up to Guan Shan for being an asshole. He knows he’s only looking out for him and He Tian already feels like a massive cunt for throwing that on his face considering how rare he shows worry.

He Tian waits for the sound of the front door slamming but it never comes. Instead, Guan Shan comes back to He Tian’s office and enters it instead of just lingering in the doorway like earlier.

“Get up,” Guan Shan says, tone harsh. “Get the fuck up.”

He Tian turns to look at him, half sorry but still pissed at being interrupted. He glares, dark eyes hard like granite as he growls, “Mo Guan Shan, I swear to god—

“I said get the fuck up.”

Tonight, Guan Shan has decided he will be the one doing the coaxing.

Guan Shan hauls He Tian up by the arms and he only has time to suck in a sudden breath before next thing he knows he’s being dragged across the hallway and into the living room.

“Momo, I—”

“Shut up,” he snaps and something in his eyes flashes that makes He Tian do just that. He Tian watches as he sits on the corner of the couch, legs crossed, and fluffs one of the throw cushions. Guan Shan places it on his lap and pats it. “Sit.”

He Tian sighs. “Momo, I really don’t think—”

“Will you just do as I say?”

He Tian does and obediently obeys when Guan Shan motions for him to lie his head on his lap.

Guan Shan successfully drags He Tian on their couch, comfortable now after years of use, easily giving and molding into their weight, no longer stiff and hard as when they first bought it.

The moment his head hits the pillow, He Tian lets out a long exhausted groan. A hand automatically comes up to clutch at his head but Guan Shan gently pushes it away and replaces it with his hands instead.

“Headache turning you into a bitch and killing you?”

“Slaughtering me more like,” He Tian sighs as he feels Mo Guan Shang’s fingers carding gently through his hair, massaging his scalp. “I think it’s fully morphed into a migraine now.”

“You want some meds?”

“No, no. I—Tch. The pain is still manageable. I don’t wanna be immune to them when it gets really bad.”

Guan Shan hums and in the next second, He Tian’s nose is assaulted by the smell of mint and camphor as Vicks is rubbed on his aching head. The smell of it relaxes him enough that he doesn’t mind the sticky substance getting in his hair. Not to mention the magic Guan Shan’s fingers are currently performing that’s chasing away his migraine.

“How come you always know what to do?” He Tian rasps, eyes closing amidst Guan Shan’s ministrations.

“I don’t,” Guan Shan scoffs. “This is just simple home remedy shit.”

“You know the important things,” He Tian’s voice has quiet to a mumble, the smell of camphor and the feel of Guan Shan’s fingers slowly but surely lulling him to sleep. “You know how to handle me. You know when not to back down.”

“I’ve had years of practice with your shittiness.”

“I’m sorry for yelling at you by the way. I didn’t mean to. It’s just…this assignment Cheng sent me it’s…it’s driving me insane.”

“It’s fine. I know. The migraine is already punishment enough for you.”

“You—” He Tian groans and it peters out to a moan when Guan Shan’s hand travels down, thumbs digging at the base of his skull, down his neck, and spreading out to the top of his shoulders. “You could say that again.”

“You want me to do your back too?”

“No, no. This is fine. I really don’t wanna get up right now. I’m really comfortable.” Another sigh as Guan Shan continues to work out the knots on his shoulders before going back to his temples. “But rain check on that back massage.”

They fall into silence as Guan Shan continues his ministrations, sticking to He Tian’s temples, his neck, and whatever of his shoulders he can reach with him lying down. He Tian slips in and out of consciousness and Guan Shan just lets him. He’s effectively turned He Tian into goo at this point.

“Thanks.” He Tian groggily reaches up and holds one of Guan Shan’s wrists. “You always know how to make me feel better.”

“Like I said,“ Mo Guan Shan leans down to plant a kiss on the top of He Tian’s nose, mindful of the Vicks on his forehead. “I’ve had a lot of practice.”

He Tian wakes up to the low hum of the TV and Guan Shan’s fingers still gently carding through his hair. The apartment is dark save for the TV and the city lights reflecting from outside. The annoying pulsing pain between his eyes have dispersed. His headache is completely gone.

He smiles to himself as he indulges in Guan Shan’s nimble fingers still scratching at his scalp. Fucking miracle worker.

“I see you’re awake,” Guan Shan says, voice low matching the quietness of the living room. “How’s your head?”

“Fine now.”

Guan Shan is eating chocolate chip cookies straight out of the jar. He Tian opens his mouth for one.

“What time is it?”

“A little past 11 PM.”

“Shit!” He Tian hisses as he sits up. “Cheng’s documents. I—”

“It’s fine, doofus,” Guan Shan says shoving another cookie at He Tian’s mouth “I answered Cheng-ge’s call earlier. Told him you were knocked out. He wants the papers tomorrow by noon.”

“Fuck. How did you manage that?” The initial deadline was tonight.

Guan Shan just shrugs. “Sent him a picture of your sleeping face.”

“You—What?”

Guan Shan pulls his phone and shows He Tian the picture he took of him sleeping on his lap. His mouth is hanging open and it looks like he’s even—

“Fucking hell.” Cheng is gonna use that as ammo against him for at least months. “I’m gonna get you for that.”

“Bring it on, drooly,” Guan Shan smirks muching on another cookie.

“Wait. Aren’t you supposed to go to work? What about that VIP that’s coming tonight? Shit. I’m so sorry, babe. I completely forgot. I was too—”

“Ah, come off it. It’s fine. The restaurant is used to receiving VIPs. They can handle tonight without me.” He rubs his hands and wipes the cookie crumbs off on his sweatpants. “Besides, I don’t even like that guest.”

Guan Shan fixes the pillow on his lap and He Tian takes that as an invitation to unceremoniously slump back into it.

#19 days #tianshan #he tian #mo guan shan #writing #idk i like domestic tianshan #i think they deserve it #y'all know he cheng is sitting at his desk silently laughing at he tian's drooling sleeping face #he sends it to qiu and they have a laugh about it together #guan shan sends the pic of sleepy drooly tian on their gc and jian yi makes it their pfp #zheng xi calls he tian drooly for a week #old xian

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