Work Text:
Zho had been stressed. Either the NSC hot on his trail, raiding his hideouts one by one, or the close call if his closest associate just some days ago. When he got warned of a fireteam being sent directly to one of his hideouts, and the fact that he had agreed to leave Xinan behind, was enough to make him vomit.
On consecuence, after being in a safe hideout barely a couple hours later, he sent a fireteam of his own to back up his operator, despite the half-argumented protest of his men, telling him that it was too dangerous, too risky, to recover him, to make sure he was safe.
The excitement that coursed through his veins the moment he was told Xinan was alive was enough to make his heart beat out of his chest. Enough to make him ignore the fact that his trusted operator was practically on the verge of death, and that without the intervention of the recovery team, he'd either be dead, or as a hostage in the dirty hands of the Nusian security council.
2nd grade burns and blood loss - the APU suit had covered most of the damage, specially on his torso and right arm. They'd theorized he got directly damaged by at least 4 explosives, causing most of the wounds, as well as some bulled wounds that weren't any major. Damn Nusians and their violent nature.
He had been planning on his room. Rereading the medical report over and over again. Sketching the APU over and over to find a design that totally covered the body, that would at least avoid any direct injury, just like what had happened with Xinan. He couldn't let that happen again, to him, or to any of his men again.
Had forgotten to eat, to drink, on that lapse of two days until the doctors managed to stabilize him. The moment he knew he could pay a visit, he had to hide a scream of sheer happiness and some stupid giggles that he himself would not recognize as his.
He asked to one of his subordinates to buy exactly 6 cardinal flowers, of an exact color, no more or no less, and a porcelain vase. His associate deserved the best of the best, didn't he? That's the least he could do after such an act of loyalty - as well as a promotion. Maybe to First sergeant, to have an official right hand man.
Zho was walking down the halls of the hospital, gift grasped tightly between his hands. No one dared to question him, and maybe it was for the better. He wouldn't find the words if he was questioned.
He stopped on the designated room. L66. And that's when he noticed his sweaty hands and forehead, how warm his face was, and the dumb, almost dreamy smile plastered on his face that he quickly wore off as fast as he could.
With a trembling hand, he grabbed the door knob, opening it nervously, afraid he might be interrupting something.
He coughs.
His lungs burn, his body feels sore, and he's blinded by the dim light of the room. The constant beep of the machines surrounding his now weakened body was driving his ears mad. It's not like he can exactly recall how is he now in what seems like a hospital room, when the last thing he remembers is breathing something that made him feel stronger.
Xinan blinks slowly, pupils darting around in hopes of having an idea of where he is - Did the Nusians took him hostage? Or is he in his beloved Dominia? He reminds the information of a fireteam being sent in the hideout he was in with him. The only window shows a lonely tree that only has yellow flowers, a araguaney, blooms sweetly. They only bloom in warm areas during the start of the year, and are native from Guesa, yet some have been brought to dominia.
It's cold in the room, a tad more than he'd like to, but he's in no position or state to verbalize his complaints right now. The cold reminds him of the hideout, the cover up facility, where he was with Zho, and how he stayed at it just to waste the time of the NSC while his old friend took another hideout.
He'd begged him to run away while he simply distracted them, despite the dangers anyone with basic logic sense would identify, either the damage of his APU, or the fact that he could easily get his head shot at. And now, he's paying the price.
He numbly recalls the ringing in his ears, a tickling in his left arm and torso, and the warm trickle of blood down it. So, they're bandaged, and he also cannot move them without feeling pain.
Probably, the spice numbed the pain down while he was high on it, but now it hurts like hell.
The WCRS operator closed his eyes, trying to doze off to sleep either from boredom or to have at least some minutes of calmness of his torment. It didn't last long with someone opening the door shyly, almost afraid of waking the resting one up, but the latter didn't dare to open his eyelids, letting whoever was there be.
Nervous, slow steps, got near the hospital bed. Xinan shivered, taking a shaky breath he hope they didn't notice. A trembling hand grabbed his bandaged one, rubbing where his knuckles where supposed to be.
“Xinan...” That voice.
Zho.
It was him. It had to be him.
“I'm sorry, for everything. I... I shouldn't have let you alone,” Something was placed on the small bedside table, the sound similar to something made of glass or porcelain. “You could've died and I allowed it. I allowed having the possibility of losing you.”
Xinan felt his face heat up. It was rare this kind of vulnerability from his superior, specially now in this war. He shouldn't have been feeling this way, having his face heat up from some affectionate words from another man - He would be kicked off of White coast if they found out. But hey, it's normal, right? To be slightly flustered at words of praise from someone you care? As long as it's something friendly, non-romantical, it's alright.
A superficial kiss was then planted on his forehead, making him gulp. The GLA sanctioned murdered then left, mumbling something under his breath that the other couldn't make off of what it was.
The door closed gently, and the (ex) APU operatir let out a breath he didn't knew he was holding. His eyes opened slowly, suspiciously, and they darted towards his bedside table, blushing slightly as he realized the 'gift' Zho bought him.
Cardinal flowers, exactly six of them, placed on a delicate porcelain vase. Zho's love for flowers wasn't a top secret, to Xinan, at least. Thus, making a monumental effort, he sat up lightly taking a better look at the flowers.
They were, as aforementioned, a reddish orange. They had recently bloomed, and were also hydrated, their petals standing up pridefully and almost shining in the muted colored room, standing out like the beauty they are.
If Xinan was being honest, they greatly reminded him of his... Friend.
Oh gods above.
Zho was practically shivering on spot as he left the room and leaned against a nearby wall. Why did he kissed him on the forehead? Why did he grabbed his hand? Why did he say that... That... Those... Those words? He covered his face with his hands, trying to hide his red face.
Embarrassment.
Too much embarrassment.
He wanted to dissapear on the spot, remembering that one specific rule in the WCRS contract.
"Fraternization is prohibited."
And that made him sick, physically and mentally. He was a superior, a general, for god's sake! And he is showing this kind of affection to a subordinate!? How pitiful of him. So, so pitiful.
Yet, it didn't felt all that bad. He was 100% sure he was straight, why did he get nervous doing a simple affection gesture towards another? Maybe it was his recent lack of affection recently, how he hadn't showed any kind of care for his subordinates recently. Maybe it was that.
Or maybe not.
Maybe he really did like this. Maybe he really did like showing intimacy with another one? With another man? With someone he trusted deeply?
No.
It can't be. It simply cannot be.
What would his colleagues think? Now that his euphoria has wore down, he's thinking of how much he'd ruined his own reputation. Buying flowers for one of his subordinates, placing them on fine porcelain, being the first one to pay him a visit on the hospital.... Gods, he really is pathetic.
An infamous GLA sanctioned murderer, having a soft spot for a close associate of his? There couldn't be anything worse, apart from maybe desert, now that's something a bastard would do.
He feels like crying, screaming, of breaking something. Yet, he can't. He can't let others know of this. Not now, not with far more important matters than some identity crisis. He must take a deep breath, and recompose himself.
Because that's what leaders do, don't they? Put on a hard face while the world is falling apart to at least have the morale of their troops up?
Brushing newly born tears off his eyes, Zho walks off as fast as he can, on a pace that screamed wrath. If he was going to crash out, let it at least be on the privacy of his room, or his office, where no one can see him, where no one can hear him.
The cold air of the hospital hits him as a breeze, making him shiver slightly. Oh, how he wished for a moment of warmth, naturally, or from another.
It probably have been hours of admiration and utter appreciation from Xinan to the flowers. Maybe it was the color of them that catched his attention, or the fact that they came as a gift from someone he had an undeniable trust and affection with. Either one or both of them, he didn't seemed tired of simply staring at them.
They distracted him from his actual situation. On a bed. Hospitalized. Practically disabled for the time being. A respirator the only thing keeping his lungs going and breathing.
He can hear muffled chatting in the hallway outside the room, and he couldn't care less about what the doctors were discussing. He could only care about the beautiful flowers standing next to him. They were beautiful. He could stare at them for a day's end and he wouldn't get bored of them.
It's probably the dizziness of the spice making him feel like this. Probably. Nothing else.
Xinan has always been fond of gifts, no matter how insignificant. Whenever giving them or receiving them, it's something that brings him joy. So, having a gift from someone like Zho, that isn't fond of showing love to others is... Shocking, to say the least.
He sighs dreamily, smiling dumbly at the thought. He doesn't realize his rapidly reddening face, or the silly giggle he lets out as his thoughts wander.
Such a lover boy is he.
The small moment of calmness and even mildly acceptance got quickly shut down by a warning thought; What about his cat?
Oh gods above, he had forgotten about her. She's probably starving, shivering in the cold air of his apartment, looking for him through every corner and room, looking for food. That made him feel horrible, enough to make his face cringe in response.
His fellow operators know about her, but, have they checked on her? Taken care of her while he is bedridden, unable to get out of this cheap bed and run towards his home to see her?
Or....
His thoughts are interrupted by fast steps and someone opening the door.
No. Zho is totally not with a cat in his lap, rubbing her head as she purrs. He has totally not feed her with some tuna and bath her for the time being. Totally not.
First of all, he cannot leave his... associate's pet alone just like that. She was starving at the moment he checked on Xinan's apartment, practically running towards the door as he unlocked it. The GLA sanctioned murderer wasn't exactly fond of having pets, not with how busy he was.
However, the sight of this animal, meowing and rubbing against his leg... It made his heart melt. He took her home, obviously, either to distract himself from his identity crisis as of now, or basic empathy.
Feed her, cleaned her, and even made her a small bed for her to rest on.
Despite this, the cat is now resting on his lap as he checked on the medical reports. Xinan would have to stay on the hospital for probably a week or two, fact that made him clench his teeth - the moment he gets out of that hospital.... Those thoughts again.
Anyways, he passed to the mission reports. Seems like they have managed to distract NSC's attention to a village in Dominia, that's actually a cover up of another big project. A teleporter, and an advanced one at that. It's better than anything to have them distracted with something far more 'important' than an insurgent leader like himself.
He's thinking about visiting Xinan one more time. He should be awake by now, isn't he? It's just been around, maybe 5 hours, so...
...
Before he can't catch himself, he has tucked the cat on her bed and he's driving to the hospital. He has never been an impulsive person, so why is he being so impulsive and stubborn? This is nothing like him.
The Dominian is on automatic mode as of now and he's practically sprinting towards the room L66. He doesn't mind the weird glances of the nurses, doctors, or other patients. Is he even himself as of now?
He grabs the door knob as if his life depends on it, opening the door, stepping inside, and closing it again.
.
..
...
They exchange glances. Eyes meeting, breath picking up. Heart beating against their own chest. Sweat forming on their foreheads.
Zho closes the distance off, towering over Xinan. They grab hands, and they get closer until their foreheads are touching, breath mingling with the other's. Their faces are red, lips trembling with anticipation for an action that they doubt will ever come.
“I... I'm happy to... See you...” Zho begins, biting at his bottom lip from the nervousness of it all.
“I am, too...” Xinan replies, gulping.
They stay in a silence that isn't exactly uncomfortable, it's almost welcoming, in a way. They both know what they want. They know, but won't.
Their fingers are interlocked, their minds practically screaming for them to make the first move. It's maddening, it's desperate, yet, both of them know the consecuences.
Know how risky it is.
Know how bad things can go if they start this.
So... With reluctance, their hand's grip weakens, letting them get some distance again. Letting them yearn the warm of the other again.
“Xinan...” Zho hums, crossing his arms over his chest as he avoided glancing at the other. “I have your cat. I... Took care of her.”
How much he wanted to not speak so formally to him.
“Really?” Xinan began, smiling as he felt that weight lift off his shoulders.
“I was worried that she was alone, starving...” He added as he tried to sit straight, wincing as he did.
“Tsk, tsk, as if I would leave an animal starving. I'm not that cruel, you know?”
“I know.”