Work Text:
At first, he does it because he can. Every time it’s just the both of them — because Heaven forfend Yuanzhi Didi and his territorial tendencies from catching wind of him doing it — Ziyu does not hesitate to drop the comforting lilt of a warm and honeyed, “Gege” just to see Shangjue’s eye flash with something fond and the corners of his tightly pursed lips twitch.
More than that, Ziyu thinks it is adorable how soft Shangjue gets after he calls him Gege.
Then, with time, it becomes something much more settled. The weight of respect and familiarity that builds with each open conversation coming through in the shape of the, “Gege” that he speaks into the air between them.
He takes pleasure in it, this little game of Gege. Takes no small measure of pride when Shangjue gets more and more comfortable with being called Gege, draws his triumphs when he starts being invited to meals and is fed only second to Yuanzhi Didi.
“Thank you, Gege,” He says, not a little stunned when Yuanzhi scoffs, but says nothing else about it.
It then blooms and blossoms into seeing him off at the gates when he has business in the jianghu with Yuanzhi next to him, silent and stoic, but unmistakably breaking on the inside.
“Be careful and take care of yourself,” Ziyu says.
“Is that an order, Zhiren?”
“I could never make our Gege do anything he doesn’t want to,” Ziyu replies sweetly, catching the almost smile that threatens to spill on Yuanzhi’s face.
Shangjue, for his part, merely ducks his head, nodding quickly with the tips of his ears turning a pretty shade of pink. “Good that you know that.”
Afterwards, in the quiet of a rainy afternoon, Yuanzhi and him hatch a plan to get Gege to turn that shade of pink more often.
Ziyu is going to enjoy this.