Jongdae is wrong – which is surprising, but true – the man does come back. Yixing surmises that he must be newly rich, because no man with the backing of decades – or even centuries – of wealth – would ever dare to sully themselves with a low-ranking zinnia. He knows that the men and women of their little corner of the floating world are curious – just what is keeping this man so close?

Yixing doesn’t need to be curious. He knows that Chen might not be as beautiful, as bright as the shining stars of the higher-ranking zinnia establishments, but he has a special shine all his own. He’s witty, he’s funny – and he’s clever. He knows when to show that tiny hint of flesh, when to be bawdy – when to make the joke that might be a little too crass in the wrong moment, but is all too funny in the right one.

So yes, he understands why this man keeps on coming back, but he can’t quite help but worry – what if he buys Jongdae out of his contract? What if he frees Jongdae, only to enslave him more in the confines of a relationship he never asked for?

What if – just if – he leaves Yixing?

***

He’s right to be afraid. Because one morning – a month or so later – mama-san is in a tizz, and the whole house is in uproar because Chen’s fancy new donor has requested a meeting with both mama-san and Chen himself in the cold light of day.

Jongdae – who had previously been sleeping, Yixing ensconced in his arms as he usually is – is wrenched awake by a surly maid who would really rather be asleep, like the rest of them. They dress him up in the finest silks they have – take so much care over his makeup that Yixing doesn’t quite recognise his beloved Jongdae, even as Chen – and are careful to push in all the hairpins his sponsor has gifted him with over the past month.

He’s a gaudy, sparkling ideal of beauty – and Yixing just stands there, his thin under-robe untied over a pale, skinny chest – because this feels like loss and he doesn’t know why.

Once the maid has left and mama-san is screeching Jongdae’s name like a peculiarly specific banshee, Jongdae is quick to kiss Yixing three times for luck, his grip on the sleeves of Yixing’s robe loosening only when mama-san starts using expletives.

He leaves the room as Chen – that perfectly charming smile in place, and the glint of mischief safely hidden in the back of his eyes.

And Yixing finds that he misses Jongdae already.

***

They’re all listening in, fighting for the places with the best acoustics; Yixing is lying halfway between the door and a table in the hallway, concentrating fiercely on what’s being said because this is Jongdae – and anything that concerns Jongdae concerns him by default.

He can hear Chen’s tinkling laugh; it’s fake, but then the client doesn’t need to know that – Yixing counts himself lucky to hear Jongdae’s full-blown chuckle, but mama-san declared it too pedestrian for a zinnia. It means that Jongdae is uncomfortable; that he laughs because there’s nothing else to say – and Yixing can only find this worrisome.

Everyone goes quiet when the client begins to speak. He has a measured, quiet sort of a voice – the kind that’s lost if the wind blows too strongly. “I have a proposition for you, regarding Chen,” he begins, and they can almost hear mama-san’s excitement. No doubt she thinks that he is about to request more of Chen’s time – become the more permanent kind of donor.

“Then I shall do my very best to accommodate it,” she says smoothly; there is the gentle sound of tea being poured, the tiniest scrape as the teacup is handed over. Jongdae chuckles nervously once more.

“Ah, you are very kind.” Yixing would snort if he wasn’t trying to be deathly quiet – no one who knows mama-san would ever call her kind. It’s just not part of her genetic makeup. “Well then – let me get straight to it. I would like to place Chen in a higher-ranking establishment – one more…suited to a man in my position – and terminate his contract with you.” There’s a chink as the teacup is set down, but Yixing hears nothing over the blood rushing in his ears. “You’ll be well compensated for it, of course.”

His gut runs cold at those words because this man has the money to do it – this rich stranger has more of a right to Chen than he ever will, but if Chen goes, then so does Jongdae.

And that loss would be more than he could bear.

***

The conversation does not end there, of course – there’s haggling to be done, agreements to be made – but Yixing leaves before he can hear anymore. He’s shaking, fingers digging into his palm and a tightening in his chest because the thought of losing Jongdae makes it hard to breathe.

He wants to leave – to pace up and down in a place that doesn’t contain grasping mama-sans or entitled rich men who don’t understand – but where could he go? He’s not even dressed – his under-robe is plain blue cotton, unrefined – ugly even – and mama-san would throw a fit if he disappeared. He goes nowhere unless he is accompanied by a paying customer – and what kind of man wants to parade around with a disgusting foreigner on his arm?

But his head is buzzing and his heart is cracking because he needs Jongdae – because the other man is the only light in a life that is miserable at best. Lay shines only in Chen’s afterglow; Yixing knows he is not enough to sustain such a pretty deception.

He is able to get up and serve customers because Jongdae is always there to hold him when he falls; because Jongdae cares for him when no one else does – and when he can’t find the energy to smile, it’s Jongdae’s touch that makes him soar.

Pathetic? Perhaps – but Yixing is far too afraid to live without the only man who has ever looked past the ever-present moniker of foreigner, and yet found the will to love him.

Yixing is far too selfish to lose so bright a light.

***

Mama-san says yes, despite the fact that Chen is her highest earner – she’d be stupid not to, because the price paid for his freedom is far more than he’s worth. She cannot contain her glee once the transaction is completed, eyes wide as she thinks of all she can do with so much money. But Chen begs a moment alone – asks to gather his things and say goodbye to the people he has lived with for so much of his life.

He says it all with a self-depreciating smile, but the word goodbye is like a knife in his heart. His knees are buckling inside the swathes of silk; if his hands weren’t clutched together tightly, they’d be shaking so hard that mama-san would think him sick.

The client nods, assumes he’s in shock and so grateful that he needs to process everything – he doesn’t notice that Chen has neglected to thank him; instead, he agrees, tells him he will be waiting.

Chen smiles in response, although he’d rather vomit.

***

He makes it out the door with some semblance of grace, but any elegance is lost, for he is soon clattering through the ageya in search of Yixing. His room is empty; but Jongdae never really expected to find him there.

Yixing likes run away when he’s upset – and the only place one can really run away to in the ageya is the courtyard. It’s nothing more than a tiny garden – meant to appease mama-san’s desire for sophistication – but it’s outside, and it’s quiet.

He finds his lover standing in the shadow of a lone tree, shoulders slumped and eyes downcast; he’s still in nothing but that plain blue under-robe, his hair undone and falling in an untidy waterfall down his back. He looks beautiful; so much so that Jongdae’s breath catches in his throat and he wishes – more than anything – that he could just capture this moment in time forever.

But that’s just a childish dream; an unattainable reality, and the spell breaks as soon as Yixing turns around. His eyes are wet, but he wipes at them angrily as soon as Jongdae meets his eyes, in a heavy breath. “You’re leaving.” He says quietly; there’s a hint of accusation in his words, but any sting his tone could have given Jongdae is lost when his face crumples. “He’s taking you away from me.”

Jongdae wants to cry; wants to sweep Yixing into his arms and declare that he’s never going to leave him – but both of those things are impossible; he can’t ruin his makeup, and he’s helpless to stop this chain of events from unfolding. He stumbles over anyway, throat aching with unshed tears; Yixing doesn’t resist when he pulls him close, but he doesn’t relax into the touch. “I can’t do this without you,” he murmurs, and Jongdae wishes he didn’t understand. “Jongdae, I – “

He kisses him because he has to; because there has to be a way to affirm his love without crying, and damn his perfectly-painted lips because Yixing is more important. “I love you,” he chokes, his throat closing and his eyes stinging because he’s desperate to cry and yet – he can’t.

Yixing lets out a sob, and suddenly Jongdae’s heart is shattering because Yixing is the only thing that matters and how can he leave him so defenceless? “They’ll kill me.” Yixing shudders, fingers clutching, creasing the expensive silk of a robe that’s worth more than the both of them put together. “Without you here, they’ll kill me. They’ll go too far, and I’ll just give up and let them – “ There’s a fire in his eyes that Jongdae rarely sees; the words sound like a threat, but they’re more of a desperate plea.

He clings to him even harder. “Don’t say that.” He tells him angrily, shutting his eyes to force the tears back. “Don’t you dare – “

“I love you.” The words are said with such heart-wrenching sincerity that Jongdae feels his own words of love could never match up. “I love you, and you’re all I’ve got. Please – “ He begs, because he has nothing to entice Jongdae to stay with and the last dregs of pride he had were beaten out of him years ago. “Please, you can’t – “

“I’ll come back for you.” Jongdae’s breathing is ragged, but he doesn’t care. “I promise – I’ll come back for you somehow, even if I have to run away.” He’s pressing kisses all over Yixing’s face before he can stop himself, the tears tracking trails through his makeup even though he swore he wouldn’t cry. “I’ll find a way to save us because I never break my promises, remember?” There’s a possessed kind of conviction to his tone that makes the words seem almost plausible.

And Yixing nods because hope is all they have left.