The Gauche in the Machine (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
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fan_flashworks2025-05-29 10:23 am
china_shop) wrote in fan_flashworks2025-05-29 10:23 am
Entry tags:
Guardian: fanfic: softening
Title: softening
Fandom: Guardian (TV)
Rating: G-rated
Length: 1176 words
Notes: Many thanks totrobadora for beta. <3
Tags: Da Qing & Shen Wei, Shen Wei & Ye Zun, background Shen Wei/Zhao Yunlan, Post-Canon, Alternate Universe – Everyone Lives, Aftermath, Feelings, Cat Tribe Best Tribe
Summary: Da Qing curls up and assesses. He likes this lap, with its faint aroma of dark energy and its feeling of safety, but the thighs reveal a thrumming tension. If Da Qing doesn’t mend Shen Wei’s mood, his nap will surely be cut short.
Full of fish, Da Qing prowls (not ‘waddles’, no matter what Lao Zhao claims) the SID in search of a suitable napping spot. In the lab, most of the team are talking to Cong Bo and Ye Huo, boisterously describing yesterday’s events: the dramatic showdown with Ye Zun, and how the Hallows had encased him in a new pillar right there in the middle of the Dijun’s throne room. Da Qing walks on.
Lao Zhao’s office door is closed. His meeting with Minister Guo has already lasted three hours.
Wang Zheng and Sang Zan, released during the pillaring, are bound to be celebrating privately (and not at all restfully) upstairs.
The main room is empty but for one person. Shen Wei is frowning at the map on the evidence board when Da Qing pads in. He’s back in his precise professor clothes—white shirt, pale slacks, and blue checked waistcoat—as if nothing happened. As if he and Lao Zhao weren’t tortured for hours. As if he didn’t fuse his most precious possessions (the Envoy’s blade and his special pendant) into a wick for the Guardian lantern.
Shen Wei sighs silently, strides around the table as far as Zhu Hong’s desk, nearly to the door, then veers back and goes to sit stiffly on the couch. If Da Qing is any judge, he’ll be up again in a minute or two.
The preternaturally calm and stoic Black-Cloaked Envoy has been restless as a hungry kitten all day. Under normal circumstances, he can be as patient as a mouser; he’ll sit and work cases with the team, read scientific papers, or just watch Lao Zhao, and his body will radiate calm.
But the big compound case with Zhu Jiu and then Ye Zun and all their lackeys that’s plagued them for months and nearly ended the world is over. There’s plenty to be done in the aftermath, Upstairs and Down, but the Envoy can’t proceed until An Bai assents to his proposal. And Dixing’s Ambassador isn’t allowed to sit in on today’s meeting between the SID chief and the Inspectorate’s Head Minister. Lao Zhao had fought this prohibition, declaring he’ll spill every bean there is when he and Shen Wei get home anyway. But apparently protocol matters.
Lao Zhao also confided to Da Qing, this morning, that last night Shen Wei healed himself of his recent energy problem. But he’s still pale, his lips ashen, his glasses somehow too big for his face. And he can’t stay still.
The ancient Black-Cloaked Envoy has lived thousands of years, through war and peacetimes. He’s a glowing success by Haixing standards and a literal legend in Dixing. Some would say he knows all there is to know. But no one’s so wise they can’t learn something from a cat.
Besides, those pale slacks are begging for a befurring.
As predicted, just then, Shen Wei’s muscles visibly bunch: about to stand, probably to pace again. Da Qing jumps onto the couch arm and flows down to shove determinedly onto Shen Wei’s lap before he can rise.
“Da Qing,” says Shen Wei, sitting back in surprise. A good start.
Da Qing curls up and assesses. He likes this lap, with its faint aroma of dark energy and its feeling of safety, but the thighs reveal a thrumming tension. If Da Qing doesn’t mend Shen Wei’s mood, his nap will surely be cut short.
He starts by purring. This naturally prompts Shen Wei to stroke him, and the gentle-firm pressure suffuses Da Qing’s senses, making him happy and sleepy in waves.
It stops too soon. “Da Qing, would you excuse—”
“Ye Zun is your brother,” says Da Qing, without moving. “Why didn’t you tell us?”
It’s not an accusation. He really wants to know, and Shen Wei obviously needs to talk about it. His fingers twitch, and his exhalation tickles Da Qing’s ears. “How could I?” he says, in a low, earnest voice. “If you’d known, how could you have trusted me?”
“Because you might have taken his side? We know you better than that, Hei Pao Shi.” Da Qing thinks letting Lao Zhao take Shen Wei into their home is proof enough of his confidence. And now he’s even sitting in Shen Wei’s lap.
But Shen Wei’s hand lifts away entirely. “Because you might think I’m like him. We are twins.”
Da Qing has already answered this, too. We know you better than that. He turns his head to nuzzle Shen Wei’s hand, and the stroking starts again, but abstractedly. And the thighs are like rocks. He tries, “It must have been a hard secret to keep.”
“Yes.” Shen Wei pats Da Qing lightly on the rear. “I need to—”
“I’m comfy now,” Da Qing tells him. “Just a few more minutes.”
Shen Wei’s muscles are gathered to propel him upright. Da Qing uncurls and twists a little, inviting a tummy stroke, but Shen Wei doesn’t RSVP. He does cup Da Qing’s spine to stop him sliding off entirely, but that could be reflexive.
Time for more words, then. Da Qing considers twins and tribes, and the bruises that had coloured Lao Zhao’s face yesterday (already healed). He lets himself think about what happened before he went to Dixing. He says, quietly, “Da Ji was a mess. She was violent, and she wouldn’t listen when I said I wouldn’t go with her. She even strangled Lao Zhao. But I still miss her.”
He sits up. This isn’t a time for tummy strokes. The truth of his grief shudders through him.
Shen Wei’s hand lands on his back like a warm blanket. “Da Qing.”
“She was my tribe. Now it’s just me.” His claws flex, despite himself. He almost doesn’t feel sleepy at all, remembering Da Ji’s selflessness yesterday and her death. Whatever she did in the past, she was the only other member of the Cat Tribe. Now she’s gone.
Shen Wei gently unhooks Da Qing’s claws from his trousers and starts stroking him again. It helps. He says, “Didi was different when we were children. He was funny and curious and kind. We shared everything.”
“Something must have happened to him.” It’s an inane thing to say, but when Da Qing looks up, Shen Wei doesn’t flick his ear. He nods.
“The law of entropy states that what is broken cannot be unbroken,” he says, but his thighs are softening. Just talking about it is helping. After a moment he adds, “I don’t even know why it broke.”
There’s a touch of the professor to the observation as if, now the threat is neutralised, the Envoy can step back and let Professor Shen, with his instinct for enquiry, for knowing, contemplate the problem.
Da Qing yawns, lies down again and closes his eyes. His fish snack is catching up with him after all. Time enough to grieve and plan later, when he’s rested. “Only one person knows why it broke,” he says. “Maybe now he’ll tell you.”
It comes out a mumble. If Shen Wei replies, Da Qing doesn’t hear.
END
Fandom: Guardian (TV)
Rating: G-rated
Length: 1176 words
Notes: Many thanks to
trobadora for beta. <3Tags: Da Qing & Shen Wei, Shen Wei & Ye Zun, background Shen Wei/Zhao Yunlan, Post-Canon, Alternate Universe – Everyone Lives, Aftermath, Feelings, Cat Tribe Best Tribe
Summary: Da Qing curls up and assesses. He likes this lap, with its faint aroma of dark energy and its feeling of safety, but the thighs reveal a thrumming tension. If Da Qing doesn’t mend Shen Wei’s mood, his nap will surely be cut short.
Full of fish, Da Qing prowls (not ‘waddles’, no matter what Lao Zhao claims) the SID in search of a suitable napping spot. In the lab, most of the team are talking to Cong Bo and Ye Huo, boisterously describing yesterday’s events: the dramatic showdown with Ye Zun, and how the Hallows had encased him in a new pillar right there in the middle of the Dijun’s throne room. Da Qing walks on.
Lao Zhao’s office door is closed. His meeting with Minister Guo has already lasted three hours.
Wang Zheng and Sang Zan, released during the pillaring, are bound to be celebrating privately (and not at all restfully) upstairs.
The main room is empty but for one person. Shen Wei is frowning at the map on the evidence board when Da Qing pads in. He’s back in his precise professor clothes—white shirt, pale slacks, and blue checked waistcoat—as if nothing happened. As if he and Lao Zhao weren’t tortured for hours. As if he didn’t fuse his most precious possessions (the Envoy’s blade and his special pendant) into a wick for the Guardian lantern.
Shen Wei sighs silently, strides around the table as far as Zhu Hong’s desk, nearly to the door, then veers back and goes to sit stiffly on the couch. If Da Qing is any judge, he’ll be up again in a minute or two.
The preternaturally calm and stoic Black-Cloaked Envoy has been restless as a hungry kitten all day. Under normal circumstances, he can be as patient as a mouser; he’ll sit and work cases with the team, read scientific papers, or just watch Lao Zhao, and his body will radiate calm.
But the big compound case with Zhu Jiu and then Ye Zun and all their lackeys that’s plagued them for months and nearly ended the world is over. There’s plenty to be done in the aftermath, Upstairs and Down, but the Envoy can’t proceed until An Bai assents to his proposal. And Dixing’s Ambassador isn’t allowed to sit in on today’s meeting between the SID chief and the Inspectorate’s Head Minister. Lao Zhao had fought this prohibition, declaring he’ll spill every bean there is when he and Shen Wei get home anyway. But apparently protocol matters.
Lao Zhao also confided to Da Qing, this morning, that last night Shen Wei healed himself of his recent energy problem. But he’s still pale, his lips ashen, his glasses somehow too big for his face. And he can’t stay still.
The ancient Black-Cloaked Envoy has lived thousands of years, through war and peacetimes. He’s a glowing success by Haixing standards and a literal legend in Dixing. Some would say he knows all there is to know. But no one’s so wise they can’t learn something from a cat.
Besides, those pale slacks are begging for a befurring.
As predicted, just then, Shen Wei’s muscles visibly bunch: about to stand, probably to pace again. Da Qing jumps onto the couch arm and flows down to shove determinedly onto Shen Wei’s lap before he can rise.
“Da Qing,” says Shen Wei, sitting back in surprise. A good start.
Da Qing curls up and assesses. He likes this lap, with its faint aroma of dark energy and its feeling of safety, but the thighs reveal a thrumming tension. If Da Qing doesn’t mend Shen Wei’s mood, his nap will surely be cut short.
He starts by purring. This naturally prompts Shen Wei to stroke him, and the gentle-firm pressure suffuses Da Qing’s senses, making him happy and sleepy in waves.
It stops too soon. “Da Qing, would you excuse—”
“Ye Zun is your brother,” says Da Qing, without moving. “Why didn’t you tell us?”
It’s not an accusation. He really wants to know, and Shen Wei obviously needs to talk about it. His fingers twitch, and his exhalation tickles Da Qing’s ears. “How could I?” he says, in a low, earnest voice. “If you’d known, how could you have trusted me?”
“Because you might have taken his side? We know you better than that, Hei Pao Shi.” Da Qing thinks letting Lao Zhao take Shen Wei into their home is proof enough of his confidence. And now he’s even sitting in Shen Wei’s lap.
But Shen Wei’s hand lifts away entirely. “Because you might think I’m like him. We are twins.”
Da Qing has already answered this, too. We know you better than that. He turns his head to nuzzle Shen Wei’s hand, and the stroking starts again, but abstractedly. And the thighs are like rocks. He tries, “It must have been a hard secret to keep.”
“Yes.” Shen Wei pats Da Qing lightly on the rear. “I need to—”
“I’m comfy now,” Da Qing tells him. “Just a few more minutes.”
Shen Wei’s muscles are gathered to propel him upright. Da Qing uncurls and twists a little, inviting a tummy stroke, but Shen Wei doesn’t RSVP. He does cup Da Qing’s spine to stop him sliding off entirely, but that could be reflexive.
Time for more words, then. Da Qing considers twins and tribes, and the bruises that had coloured Lao Zhao’s face yesterday (already healed). He lets himself think about what happened before he went to Dixing. He says, quietly, “Da Ji was a mess. She was violent, and she wouldn’t listen when I said I wouldn’t go with her. She even strangled Lao Zhao. But I still miss her.”
He sits up. This isn’t a time for tummy strokes. The truth of his grief shudders through him.
Shen Wei’s hand lands on his back like a warm blanket. “Da Qing.”
“She was my tribe. Now it’s just me.” His claws flex, despite himself. He almost doesn’t feel sleepy at all, remembering Da Ji’s selflessness yesterday and her death. Whatever she did in the past, she was the only other member of the Cat Tribe. Now she’s gone.
Shen Wei gently unhooks Da Qing’s claws from his trousers and starts stroking him again. It helps. He says, “Didi was different when we were children. He was funny and curious and kind. We shared everything.”
“Something must have happened to him.” It’s an inane thing to say, but when Da Qing looks up, Shen Wei doesn’t flick his ear. He nods.
“The law of entropy states that what is broken cannot be unbroken,” he says, but his thighs are softening. Just talking about it is helping. After a moment he adds, “I don’t even know why it broke.”
There’s a touch of the professor to the observation as if, now the threat is neutralised, the Envoy can step back and let Professor Shen, with his instinct for enquiry, for knowing, contemplate the problem.
Da Qing yawns, lies down again and closes his eyes. His fish snack is catching up with him after all. Time enough to grieve and plan later, when he’s rested. “Only one person knows why it broke,” he says. “Maybe now he’ll tell you.”
It comes out a mumble. If Shen Wei replies, Da Qing doesn’t hear.
END
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Aww, thanks for reading, you. <3 <3 <3
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beams So happy it worked for you -- thanks so much! <3
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Plus Da Qing's POV - his perspective on characters and events past and present - felt absolutely right. *hearts and hearts*
no subject
Ahh, thanks so much, you! So glad this worked so well for you, especially Da Qing's POV -- yay! *beams and skritches him*