<blockquote>“Nice,” Drunk Man says, into the crook of his neck, and does nothing else. Wei Ying slowly relaxes, allows himself to pat Drunk Man between the shoulder blades, and sighs.
“Okay,” he says. “Glad you think so.”
Drunk Man does not respond. Wei Ying wonders if he went back to sleep, and then takes a further moment to wonder why this always happens to him, why he’s always the one helping a heartbroken twink sober up after a terrible night out or sitting on the curb with a sobbing teenager with a fake ID while they wait for her parents to come pick her up. If only he was as shitty a person as White Mike, he could be home asleep right now and this beautiful man would be passed out in a gutter and probably mugged. Wei Ying looks down at the drunk man on his shoulder, thinks about leaving him to fend for himself, and sighs. Nope. Not on his watch.
Or: A meet-cute at two in the morning.</blockquote>
