Work Text:
It was strange.
From a statistical stand point, there was nothing wrong with the hotel he was staying at. The service was excellent, the staff accommodating, and the food exquisite. His room was lush and inviting, near the top floor with a wide open view to the foreign city below, a grand bed in the center that had silk sheets cool to the touch.
He couldn’t even complain about the connecting bathroom, with its deep floor-set tub and perfect water pressure. The design was eye catching, leaving one to feel as if they were bathing in a private onsen than a hotel bathroom.
Yet, Yao couldn’t say he was satisfied.
If he was truthful with himself, he knew the reason. As the night waned on, and the city lights dimmed enough that the sky sparkled more clearly, he couldn’t deny himself anymore. With a heavy sigh he rolled over for the umpteenth time, turning to face the ceiling, the bed swallowing up his lone body. Most would find that luxurious, but to him it just outlined what he was lacking on either side of himself.
Yao could almost hear them, distant voices of what wasn’t there. Could hear the smooth tone of the General by the window, awe in his voice at the beautiful view below. He was childlike in a way, easily inspired by the simple beauty around him. It was heartening to see that war had not spoiled the purer aspect of the General. It always left him feeling charmed.
Yao could also almost hear the deep grumble that would follow after, his fellow researcher dropping his bag near the right side of the bed, as he preferred the window to the door, grouching about something unrelated to the topic at hand. Yao felt himself smile as he pictured their lighthearted bickering, the flash of crimson eyes that would have looked toward him in conspiracy.
Yao knew his fellowman loved to rile up the General. Regarded it as easy sport and always sent Yao a sleek grin when inevitably a heavy sigh would pull deep from the General’s chest. Mortefi would consider it a win, a neat tally next to a long list of others of how many times he’s caused Jiyan to lose his patience. On the other hand, Jiyan also had a tally book on how many times he’s caused Mortefi to fluster, face bright red and eyes narrowed in indignation.
Yao was unsure who was winning at this point, but his bet was on Jiyan. Though he would never tell Mortefi that.
Rolling again, Yao pulled the covers up closer, staring blankly at his pangu terminal resting temptingly on the side table. He knew they were just a call away. He could easily connect with them, have a quick chat, calm his mind so he could sleep for tomorrow’s brutal set of conferences. It was early enough where his lovers were. Yao knew he wouldn’t be bothering them.
He felt weak though. It wasn’t the first time he’s been away from them for days on end. He was always invited to various conferences outside Huanglong. It wasn’t an odd occurrence every few weeks for him to be off somewhere abroad, Mortefi griping at him for leaving them with sensitive work as he helped Yao pack for his trips.
Yao would just smile and leave a gentle kiss on his cheek, muttering that he trusted Mortefi to finish them all on time. He would get a huff in return, but Yao always saw the small curl of a smile at the firm confidence he had in him.
Sitting up abruptly Yao reached out for his terminal, pulling it onto the soft covers of his bed. Tucking his feet in he rested the gourd on his lap, fingers lightly tapping on the sides in indecision.
The root cause was that Yao had been away from them too long. Jiyan was only gone after every three weeks for two weeks, part of the Midnight Rangers rotations. It was a set pattern that all three of them were used to. Mortefi and himself tried to make sure they were available more often than not whenever Jiyan had his three weeks in Jinzhou.
Mortefi was never gone. He refused to do any sort of conference that couldn’t be done over his terminal. On the rare occasion he did have to go to one, Mortefi only stayed for a few days, and didn’t care one bit if he seemed rude and abrasive for leaving early. “They only need to learn about my breakthroughs,” he had said once. “They do not need to know me personally. I refuse to sit and bump elbows with investors who do not care a genuine bit about my person. My work will speak for me.”
Yao, on the other hand, did not have set routines or the ability to dodge his responsibilities. Though he tried to plan his days accordingly, being the Principle Investigator made him have to be more flexible in nature. More often than not he was working later than he liked, last minute lab work keeping him full of caffeine. Other times he was pulled into back to back meetings that always ran later than they were scheduled. There were even instances that he had to assist in runaway projects or hunting down tacet discords.
Yao never deemed any of it a burden. It was his responsibility to assist in whatever capacity he could. The only issue was, the moment he started dating his two lovers, Yao suddenly noticed how crammed his schedule was. He had to rework the whole thing in order to provide himself ample opportunities to see both Jiyan and Mortefi on an individual basis and as a group.
It just didn’t line up nicely this time around, and it was weighing heavily on his heart.
Yao never contemplated that he would be the more needy one out of the three. When they first started dating, he assumed it would be Mortefi, who was more sensitive than he appeared. There was a vague thought that the self-assured General was more insecure than he seemed in personal relations, but Yao scrapped that idea.
If anything, Jiyan was the one who had the best balance of work-home life. He was the one who kept consistent contact with his two overworked researchers, doing late night calls when on rotations to check how they were doing. Always offering gentle advice or a listening ear. “I know it’s hard, the distance, but I’m always here if you need me. I’m just a call away. Please don’t hesitate to reach out even on the most mundane things. Besides, it brightens my day to hear from the two of you.”
Mortefi was also more considerate than expected. Yao already knew how kind he was beneath all the grumble, but it expanded ten fold the moment they were dating. He always made sure that Yao kept his midafternoon tea time, scaring away any unwanted solicitors so his space stayed quiet and empty to help clear his mind. Mortefi also always made sure he ate a hearty dinner. Yao admitted sometimes he would skimp on it, too tired to focus on a balanced diet. Mortefi refused to continue letting him be a “heathen of the highest degree” and “processed garbage is not food Xiangli”. Sufficed to say Mortefi took over dinner duties. Which was fine by Yao as he took care of breakfast.
Neither of them allowed Jiyan near the kitchen, much to his cringe.
Forcing himself out of his musings Yao refocused on his current dilemma: was going almost a month now of only sparse texts with his lovers truly a reason to feel as down as he was? He saw neither of them before he left, Jiyan still on rotation and Mortefi coming back the day after Yao was gone from his own set of conferences.
Did this make him clingy? Was he unable to deal with loneliness anymore? Was he considered spoiled now?
His results were inconclusive.
Sighing Yao decided he wouldn’t reach out to them. If it still weighed on him tomorrow he would call then. He could last another day. Turning, he attempted to tuck his terminal back on the side table, but his arm got caught in the sheets. As it tumbled to the floor Yao winced, hoping the neighbors below didn’t hear the loud thump.
“Yao?”
Flinching he almost tumbled off the bed in his haste to grab the runaway gourd. Fumbling it out from underneath the bed Yao squinted his eyes as the light from the hologram brightened the space suddenly. The hologram was only partially picking up Mortefi, as if his own terminal was hastily propped up against something with no concern about the lens.
He was in Jiyan’s tiny kitchen, sitting at the small table shoved into the corner for eating. If Yao was to bet, what was blocking half the hologram were the drapes covering the small window that looked out into a narrow alleyway. Mortefi was always disgruntled about how, as he described, microscopic Jiyan’s apartment was. Jiyan wanted to hear nothing of it, claiming the space was perfectly fine for one person.
Yao kept his opinions to himself.
“Finally designed to call us, hm?” came the taunt.
Yao couldn’t help the smile that took over his face. “I wasn’t sure if either of you were awake. It is rather late over there.”
Mortefi huffed, reaching out belatedly to correct his terminal so it rested properly on the table, finally giving Yao a clear view of him. Mortefi’s glasses were nowhere to be found, hair flowing around his shoulders. He was dressed in his sleep clothes, a loose cotton shirt and matching pants. Yao knew when he finally went to sleep the shirt would come off. Mortefi couldn’t stand how stifling it got under the covers, his forte keeping him warmer naturally.
“Rather late he says even though it’s later still over there. Did they keep you up with useless pleasantries? You know you don’t have to go to all the causal meet-ups after.”
Yao shook his head in the negative, still unable to curve his smile as he stared at his boyfriend. He looked tired, more than usual. “Have you been sleeping alright?” he asked cautiously, a frown slowly replacing the euphoria he felt. “Did the project keep-“
“No,” Mortefi interrupted gruffly. He rubbed at his eyes. “I finished that yesterday. Hardly anything to sweat about.”
“Then why do you…?” Yao did an aborted gesture, smiling innocently when he got a glare in return.
“What exactly are you implying Xiangli Yao?”
“It was nothing. You look as handsome as ever Mortefi.”
“Inane sweet talker. Come on, split it out.”
“Enough Mortefi,” came a soothing chuckle. Yao cracked another smile as Jiyan came into view. He also donned his sleepwear, hair pulled into a lose braid over his shoulder. After a quick wave in greeting Jiyan disappeared for a moment; Yao could hear distantly a scrapping sound, then Jiyan reappeared pulling a chair over, forcefully scooting Mortefi to the right so he could fit into the hologram view. “He hardly slept. Was helping Encore with a project for the festival coming up. Something to do with the children’s play.”
“They think I’m a miracle worker,” Mortefi hissed, rubbing his eyes again. “Hardly misplaced judgment, but not exactly what I wanted to do after pulling a long shift to finish the academy’s last minute project left by our oh so wonderful Principle Investigator.”
“And you know I appreciate everything you do for me Mortefi. Truly,” Yao laughed. He knew it was all a farce. His boyfriend was hardly as peeved as he was trying to appear to be. There was no minute downward tick of his mouth, the squint of an eye, a flare of his nostril. He was relaxed, his legs angled in such a way Yao knew they were bumped up against Jiyan’s in a sprawl. Mortefi yawned lazily, leaning his head against the wall as he stared softly back at Yao.
“How was your day?” Jiyan chimed in. His eyes were equally as soft as he leaned forward, resting his arms on the table. “Did you learn more about that theory?”
Sighing Yao shook his head. “Not as much as I wanted. There are some promising leads though.” Reaching over he placed his terminal back on his side table. Fluffing the pillows he leant against the headboard, angled toward the terminal, blankets tucked around his legs.
“Tell me about it,” Jiyan prompted.
Yao found himself unable to stop himself from talking once he started. Jiyan nodded along, pipping up when he could and asking well thought out questions. Ones that always got Yao looking at the problem differently. Occasionally Mortefi would chime in, stirring the conversation back to the point at hand.
It was always like that between the three of them. Different perspectives leading to different, but equally as important, conclusions. It was addicting to him. To have so much knowledge and understanding between them. It’s what he missed the most when he was away. The ability to reach out to either of them. He didn’t know why he waited so long to hologram call. The hastily sent texts over the last month seemed silly when he knew they would always answer if he called.
Sometimes Yao wondered why he wanted to give that up. Human connection. Knowledge was truly only enjoyable when it was shared.
As the night waned on, Yao noticed that Mortefi at some point knocked out. He leant heavily against the wall, arms crossed loosely, body sprawled even more in his chair.
“Was it truly just the extra project? He seems more tired than usual.” A frown pulled once more at his lips as he stared worriedly at their slumbering boyfriend.
Jiyan looked off to the side.
“Jiyan?”
Yao couldn’t help the fissure of panic that laced through his system. It must have shown on his face when Jiyan looked back at him, as he stumbled out, “No, no, it’s nothing bad Yao. He just hasn’t been sleeping well is all.”
“Is there a particular reason for that?“
“He misses you,” he muttered quietly, stealing a quick glance at the slumbering researcher. Yao blinked, dumbfounded, as Jiyan continued, “You know he won’t admit it. You two are usually at his place when I’m gone, and then we’re at yours when I’m back. I know it’s not just my cramped bed that’s making it hard for him to sleep.”
Chuckling softly Jiyan trained his eyes back on Yao. The gold in them were muted over the hologram, but no less captivating. “Truthfully, we both miss you. I never noticed how quiet it is when you two aren’t tinkering on something in your home office. Reminds me of the barracks when I’m out at the Highlands. Always something going on. Even I’ve had trouble sleeping this past week.”
In all his calculations, Yao never contemplated that what he was feeling would correlate precisely with his significant others. He still had a lot to learn it seemed.
“Since we’re on the subject of truth, I have a confession as well: I have also missed you both greatly. I forgot how cold at night it gets.”
Jiyan laughed. “It seems we’re all a little hopeless.”
“Indeed. We should have anticipated this,” Yao stated, nodding his head in faux seriousness. “We cannot predict the next time this will happen, other than that it will, in all likelihood, come around again, so I propose we make some ground rules. Top of the list should be more hologram calls.”
There was a deep grumble to the right, Mortefi stretching his legs out more as he sunk deeper down his chair. Jiyan reached out, slipping an arm underneath his thighs to stabilize him better, fearing that Mortefi would slip off the chair the longer he dozed. “I will agree to more calls. If I knew all it would take was hearing your voice to knock him out I would have called sooner. We weren’t sure between the time difference and the amount of conferences how available your schedule was.”
“I would like to restate something a dear General has said before: ‘Please don’t hesitate to reach out even on the most mundane things’. I will make time if it’s you two calling.”
“I’ll remind Mortefi of that in the morning. In the meantime…” With a grimace, body hunched over more to levee Mortefi’s up, Jiyan couldn’t stop the look of helplessness on his face. “I think I better get him to bed before he does fall off. Somehow I know I’ll be to blame if that happens.”
Yao couldn’t stop the laugh that slipped out. “Of course. Last thing we want is for Jinzhou to lose her honorable General. I’ll reach out again tomorrow. As part of our new guidelines. Until then.”
Switching off his pangu terminal Yao resituated himself for bed. Sinking back beneath the covers he couldn’t help the contented sigh that pulled deep from within.
As he drifted off to sleep, his body warmed by a profound contentment, his last thought was that the bed didn’t feel quite as large, or cold, anymore.