As Wei Ying dropped a tangle of fresh noodles into the boiling water, he scrolled one-handed through dating profiles on his phone, hip pressed hard against the stove as steam warmed his cheeks and threatened to fog the screen. Anyone who posted pictures? The easiest to discard. Used their real name? Ruthlessly culled. They wouldn’t suit his purposes, these people with names and faces to go along with their profiles, foolish, romantic hopefuls searching for their perfect partner. Wei Ying could never be that to them, nor they his in return. It wasn’t fair to pretend otherwise.
Finding the one wasn’t all it was cracked up to be. Wei Ying knew this well already.
At his most melodramatic, he saw himself as the thick layer of baleen in the mouth of a blue whale, mindlessly filtering an entire sea of nobodies in search of the six-tons of krill that would keep him alive until the next time that itch at the base of his neck returned, an annoying reminder that he had human needs, too, and couldn’t just ignore the part of himself that still wanted… something like this. A face, a name. A perfect partner.
Tonight, his luck wasn’t very good. Too little new blood in Shanghai this month. Boring, boring, boring. He refused to do repeats, no matter that he still got DMs from some who wanted a second crack at him.
And then.
In truth, there was no reason Wei Ying should have clicked on this profile versus any of the others currently sporting a round, pixelated avatar. If the pickings were better, he might not have looked at it at all. It was entirely unremarkable except for the warning—or was it meant to be an enticement?—that he would only be in Shanghai temporarily, neither a native nor a permanent transplant. Temporary was good. Temporary meant Wei Ying could go in clean and cut dry at the end of it. No lingering DMs to awkwardly ignore.
Once he scrolled through the entirety of it, he was even more certain he’d struck gold.
This gloriously concise, no-nonsense man offered his preferences and a list of kinks so comprehensive that even Wei Ying was impressed. No cheeky humor, no elaboration, no shame. In other words: ideal. Not something he came across every day.
Three simple letters made up the handle he’d set for himself. hgj. Wei Ying had no idea what it meant. He found that intriguing.
Opening up a DM request, he tapped out his usual spiel. Only when he neared the end of it did he pause, considering. This hgj, he decided, deserved better than what he gave to everyone else. After deleting the scattering of sentences he’d learned through trial and error would usually net him what he wanted, he navigated to his own profile.
Was there anything here that might pique hgj’s interest in return?
Maybe a new profile pic was in order. It’d been a while since he’d updated it. hgj struck him as the sort of person who might prefer a tasteful thirst trap to the deliberately boring shot of him hanging off a bike, helmet tipped insouciantly as he grinned at his phone, fingers raised in a v, a tediously picturesque view of Sheshan National Forest Park behind him.
Would it be worth the inevitable flood of junk DMs for the chance to flash his abs in hgj’s direction?
While he finished boiling the noodles, mixed oil and vinegar, combined chili powder and garlic and scallions, and wilted ma lan tou, his mind turned to what hgj might do to him if given the right enticement.
Deleting junk DMs, he decided, would be a small price to pay.
In the end, he flicked through his photo album and found the best of the bunch, a shot of him lounging beside a pool, water glistening on his skin. A weekend fling had taken the shot for him, a photographer who hadn’t let up about photographing him until he’d lazed for a good half an hour in front of the camera, and was kind enough to send a few back after he’d processed them.
Dinner ready, he sat at the small dining table tucked into the corner of his kitchen and continued perusing hgj’s scanty profile, hoping to divine more from so little. By the time he brought his chopsticks to his mouth, he found his noodles had grown cold, the vinegar and oil separated into greasy pools on the surface of the broth. Jiejie would be ashamed of him for putting a hookup before a decent meal, but if he was being honest, it was what he deserved, this congealed mess before him.
Worth it though. Because even he could’ve wept at the borderline indecent jut of his hip bones, the tease of his fingernails over the waistband of his swim trunks, the suggestive shadow that crossed his lap, a miracle of timing and excellent light. It was a good shot.
Besides, jiejie wasn’t here.
Wei Ying chewed each bite of food mechanically, barely tasting any of it, as fantasies drove him far enough off course that, by the time he was startled from them by a trilling notification, he was mentally jerking off to the last time he and Lan Zhan were together. Never a good sign, that. Lan Zhan. Thirteen years ago and still the best lay he ever had. If he didn’t stop himself, he’d imagine the first time they’d had sex and the myriad times between, those halcyon days during which Wei Ying had known he’d found the man he wanted to spend his entire life with.
Wasn’t reciprocated. Now he knew better.
Snorting, Wei Ying shoved aside the bowl and swiped the notification, surprised and pleased to discover hgj had messaged him first. Unlike his perfect ability to recall the shape of Lan Zhan’s dick inside him, this was a good sign. Wei Ying definitely liked initiative in a potential conquest. It happened so rarely.
Lan Zhan got shoved into a cage in the back of Wei Ying’s mind, left there until the next time his brain got the better of him and let him back out.
I believe we may share compatible interests, hgj wrote. Would you be interested in meeting?
The champagne fizz of anticipation bubbled within him. Throwing his earlier caution to the wind, he typed the first thing that came to mind. If that meeting involves us pretending you’re taking my virginity from me, I might be interested.
It normally paid to play a bit coy, but hgj was different. He believed that much deep in his heart.
Within seconds, hgj rewarded his faith. Didn’t even have to think about it, it seemed. Didn’t hesitate.
Do you value it very much, hgj asked, your virginity?
Within him, arousal unfurled its sticky limbs. Oh, this was going to be fun. hgj was fun. I’m saving myself for my husband. Delighted, he pressed the heel of his palm to his crotch, savoring the bloom of pleasure such simple pressure stoked to life. It was rare that it was so easy. He deserves a pure and dutiful spouse, whenever I find him.
hgj: Then it would be a pity if you were ruined before you were wed.
yllz: I’m sure I would cry.
hgj: I, too, am sure of that.
“Who are you?” A semi pressing against his fly as he breathed through the sudden spike of his need, dizzying. He shoved his hand inside, the head of his dick nudging against his palm through the silky, stretchy fabric of his boxer briefs. An innocent such as himself definitely wouldn’t go so far as to masturbate in the middle of negotiations, would he?
No, best to savor it.
Wei Ying withdrew his hand and forced himself to be serious, laid his master plan out in detail: Wei Ying will remain blindfolded the whole time; hgj won’t speak; he has Wei Ying’s blanket consent to do anything that isn’t one of his few limits, listed on his profile already; here’s my safeword. I don’t intend to use it.
hgj: This is acceptable to me.
Because he was a gentleman, he asked hgj what he wanted and expected in return. Wei Ying’s lungs squeezed as he waited for the answer. There was a short, flattering pause and then—
hgj: You’re mine for the day.
For one brainless minute, Wei Ying wished hgj did live in Shanghai, that what they were to share together could be more than what Wei Ying was willing to allow.
This was the sort of man you didn’t let go of. And yet, let go of him, he must. That was one of the rules. In matters of sex, he no longer played for keeps.
Wei Ying checked into the hotel they’d agreed on, a discreet distance from Wei Ying’s home and work, and placed the do not disturb placard on the door handle. While he waited for hgj to arrive, he studied the room for signs of tampering, cameras, microphones, the like. The chances of such a thing happening were slim, but one could never know. Except for his own bags and a box sitting in the center of the bed, he found nothing out of the ordinary.
While he waited, he drew a hot bath, impressed by the arrangement hgj had made for him. He dumped a scoop of bath salts into the water—not branded like the hotel’s offerings were, he noted, perhaps a special delivery from hgj, still sealed—and scrubbed himself clean. The scent of cedar and sandalwood enveloped him, relaxing. He remained until his fingertips pruned.
When he was done, he readied himself according to hgj’s specifications. They were few enough. He was expected to be nude, of course, except for the contents of the box still waiting for him on the bed.
A thick crimson ribbon strangled the length and width of it. Impatiently, he pulled it free and shoved aside the top.
Inside, an innocent pair of panties sat on a layer of silver tissue. White, lacy, demure, the kind of thing an inexperienced young thing might consider thrilling as they readied themselves for bed. So hgj really did want to follow through on the idea that Wei Ying was a blushing ingénue, huh? Wei Ying could work with that.
He slipped into them, impressed for a second time. From just a few pictures—Wei Ying might have offered a handful more as enticement, something he’d never done with another hook up—hgj had guessed his size correctly. They fit perfectly, shaping themselves to his ass in a way even he found compelling.
Whistling a jaunty nonsense tune, he arranged his own contributions in a neat row on the desk, fitted his blindfold over his eyes, and climbed onto the bed. His heart beat out a brisk tempo against his sternum as he posed himself in the parody of a restful position, one leg hitched up, sheets artfully arranged around his thighs and calves. Were anyone other than hgj to walk into the room, they’d be in for a rather interesting tableaux.
Wei Ying drew in a deep breath, released it. All he could do now was wait.
He’d never been very good at it, but after a time, he lulled himself into something that could almost be called rest.
A faint, cheery beep sounded from the doorway, startling him awake. Metal clicked against metal. The door handle turned. Footsteps approached, deliberate and careful, shoes no different than the myriad that wandered the halls outside. A mouth drew an audible breath.
Wei Ying imagined plush lips, a gentle downward slope at the corner. He didn’t tense, but he waited for hgj to break the most important rule. It happened sometimes, men coming on too strong, getting ahead of themselves—it was always the men, somehow, not the few women who’d allowed themselves to be so courted by him for a night, those rare nights he was capable of pretending this wasn’t about him at all, that it was merely an expression of Wei Ying’s natural predilections for being pushed around instead of damage control.
It would be such a waste if hgj was one of those men.
These days, it was already nearly impossible to maintain the fantasy anyway. Though the stretch of years might have faded even the brightest of his memories, he still knew when the hands weren’t big enough, the shoulders, too broad or not broad at all, the fall of hair, never the right length.
hgj’s hand dragged down his back, a scalding line of heat to contrast the chill in the room.
And then he retreated while Wei Ying trembled in anticipation.
The faint scent of shower gel clung to the air in his absence, the same cedar and sandalwood scent adorning Wei Ying’s body. Radiating from hgj’s, it smelled different. Though Wei Ying’s mind sought to catalog it, he couldn’t tell precisely what it was that made it different, something a little sweet and citrus bright, ephemeral and unpretentious, not at all cloying the way it could sometimes be with the more nervous of his marks who doused themselves in cologne to make up for some perceived deficiency.
hgj’s shoes creaked as he stepped toward the desk.
What conclusions would he draw about Wei Ying from the assortment of toys Wei Ying had left for him? What did Wei Ying want him to think?
Should a devoted man such as yourself own such things? Your husband will think you’re insatiable, a demon. He’ll realize you’ll fuck anyone who’ll have you if he knows you use them. Shameless.
Metal thunked against wood—a cufflink? A watch band? Something else—and was dragged down the length of it, clattering. Silicone, plastic, and leather, they all thudded to the floor. Pieces bounced audibly against the carpet. There wasn’t a single hint of hesitation in the action. Wei Ying’s heart pounded in surprise.
So this was how it was going to be.
The room fell silent again. Wei Ying’s pulse beat loudly in his skull and his body throbbed in perfect time with that beat. This was new, what hgj did. This, Wei Ying didn’t quite know what to do with. Even the most daring of his partners didn’t toss aside every toy he had, proclaiming them worthless without saying a word, expressing his rough intent so elegantly.
This, Wei Ying liked.
Within the span of two heartbeats, he knew: it would truly be a shame to let hgj go.
To keep up his side of the bargain, he stirred from his ‘rest,’ tensing his body as hgj tore away the sheet and yanked at his ankle, dragging him bodily down the bed, half-hard cock pressing against the mattress. Unbearable pleasure clawed through him as hgj tore at his underwear. Were they somewhere more private, somewhere like Wei Ying’s apartment, where he’d had to learn the subtle art of soundproofing a room that didn’t belong to him, he might have shouted abuse at hgj, but even in a hotel room with thick walls, he didn’t dare. Instead, he offered a low, urgent, “No,” and an insincere struggle. The one bad thing about the blindfold? He couldn’t fight back as hard as he used to. When he and Lan Zhan did this, he learned how to properly kick out so he wouldn’t hurt him, knew where and how to shove and push and pull his punches.
As instructed, hgj didn’t acknowledge him at all. His focus remained entirely on dragging the underwear down Wei Ying’s legs. The lace scratched gently over his skin. Shivering, he wriggled and reached for the fabric, trying to pull it back up as he pushed at hgj’s muscled forearms. “Don’t you—”
hgj’s trimmed nails raked down Wei Ying’s flanks and calves. A trail of hot, throbbing welts rose in their wake.
Deft fingers quickly and quietly tore open a condom wrapper, which was then flung at Wei Ying’s back, scraping his shoulder and leaving behind a delicious drip of embarrassment as it tumbled down his spine, prickly, and came to rest in the dip of his lower back. When he shook it off, hgj slapped his hip, a warning: do not move.
Wei Ying grabbed the bedding and pulled himself up, warning be damned.
Before Wei Ying could get away, hgj flipped him, his hand gripping Wei Ying’s waist so tightly it was sure to bruise. Pain radiated from each point of contact, mutating into pleasure as Wei Ying’s dick bobbed helplessly against his abdomen.
The bed dipped, squeaking lightly as hgj knee walked himself between Wei Ying’s spread thighs and leaned over him. His hand, broad, spanned the width of Wei Ying’s jaw, palm curved around his chin. His nose brushed Wei Ying’s nose. Their breath mingled, warm and moist. Wei Ying made token protests, no, don’t, you’re a brute. hgj cut him off with a kiss, driving his tongue into Wei Ying’s mouth, taking it as brutally as Wei Ying expected to be taken, too. Though vicious, it was one of the better kisses Wei Ying had received in his lifetime, just shy of too much, too hard, too fast. Wei Ying moaned against hgj’s plush, soft lips and cried out as hgj lined himself up. So much for token protests.
When he drove into Wei Ying’s body, the only lubricant offered to him was what came on the condom.
His mind supplied the perfect soundtrack. You’d give it up for anyone, wouldn’t you? Look how loose you are. You don’t even need to be prepped. You’d just take anything that was thrust between your legs. Doesn’t matter what it might be.
If the voice sounded like it belonged to Lan Zhan, well. It couldn’t be helped. At this late date, nothing would. Everything he did now was triage, a bandage slapped over an open wound. hgj spared him more of the usual ache than most. Every thought of Lan Zhan was driven from his mind as hgj thrust into him again and again. A mercy.
When he gasped, hgj pressed his hand over Wei Ying’s mouth.
He ignored Wei Ying’s dick entirely.
Wei Ying clutched at the bedding. Even just that small hint of movement must have drawn hgj’s attention—with the blindfold, it was sometimes easy forget he could still be seen—because he took Wei Ying’s wrists in hand and brought them together, yanking them above his head. Having pinned him, he stretched himself over Wei Ying’s body and took it even more fiercely.
A flare of arousal burned itself to cinders within Wei Ying. Lan Zhan used to do this, too. Others tried it on occasion, but their hands were never big enough. They didn’t dare.
The change in angle forced the breath from Wei Ying’s lungs as hgj’s pace built to a crescendo, not enough to get Wei Ying off yet, but enough to get hgj off. He huffed against Wei Ying’s neck, body tensing up as he shook, hips jerking artlessly. If he wasn’t wearing a condom, he’d be spilling directly into Wei Ying’s body. For the first time in a long time, he wanted to be marked in such a way.
Apprehension raked itself down his spine as hgj remained buried within him, softening. Then, he remembered, You’re mine for the day.
“Let go,” he demanded, keeping up the artifice anyway. “Let me go. Please.”
hgj pulled out, vicious, as he squeezed Wei Ying’s wrists in one hand and his hip in the other. Wei Ying clenched around nothing, almost came from the sudden emptiness, the renewed pricks of pain as hgj’s fingers dug into his skin.
The bed dipped as hgj rolled away, squeaked as he rose to his feet. His steps stopped somewhere halfway across the room and then resumed, heading toward the bathroom. For a long time, water splashed into the sink. Something hit the bottom of the trash can with a gentle thunk. He returned, dripping cool water onto Wei Ying’s skin, startling a moan from him as droplets landed on his dick.
His fingers, damp, wormed between Wei Ying’s legs and pried him open. Before Wei Ying, aching, could do more than sigh at this fresh intrusion, he shoved one of Wei Ying’s plugs into him, the largest one he’d brought, only lightly lubricated, and strapped a vibrating wand to his thigh, settling the head right next to his balls. It, too, was the biggest one Wei Ying had thought to bring.
Next time, he wasn’t going to let his ambitions get the better of him.
Next time, ha. There couldn’t be a next time. The whole point was to avoid getting attached. He couldn’t forget that just because this guy played his body a little better than the rest.
Wei Ying squirmed as he adjusted to the bulbous feel of the plug, and ground out a moan as the vibrator hummed to life on the highest setting. He felt the intensity of hgj’s gaze on his body, an almost physical touch all on its own.
The vibrator remained on until Wei Ying was sobbing, stimulation in all the wrong places, but close enough to the right ones to drive him to the brink again.
Then it stopped.
Panting, Wei Ying strained to hear anything through the rush of blood in his ears. hgj’s footsteps approached again, the sound of metal clanking in accompaniment. Without the slightest hint of hesitation, hgj took Wei Ying’s hands and pressed the soft, silicone cuffs around his wrists, chained together by a quick release lock.
hgj’s thumb stroked over his palm and squeezed once before raising Wei Ying’s hands and placing them behind his head, trapping him without truly being trapping him.
Then hgj’s hands skimmed down Wei Ying’s body, pinching and twisting and scratching at Wei Ying’s skin until Wei Ying felt hot all over, nerves exposed, and imagined himself as a canvas of red, trailing marks and broken capillaries. He ran his thumbs roughly over the small, tight nubs of Wei Ying’s nipples until they were raw. Even that wasn’t enough for Wei Ying, who arched into the touch, whimpering, needing more than what hgj was willing to give him, needing everything that could be taken from him.
Precome dripped onto his abdomen and was immediately rubbed into his skin, the back of his hand never quite brushing the head of Wei Ying’s cock. Wei Ying took several shaky breaths as hgj stroked between his legs, pressed his knuckles to Wei Ying’s tightly drawn balls, adjusted the wand until it was pressed directly against him. If Wei Ying rolled his hips—
hgj pinned him in place with his forearm.
—but if Wei Ying could only roll his hips, even that small hint of stimulation might have been enough. If he turned it back on…?
hgj didn’t turn it on, of course, though the threat was there. Instead, he again knelt between Wei Ying’s legs, leaned close enough that the warmth of his breath ghosted over his thighs. His fingers teased at the flared base of the plug, pushed it one way and then the other. As Wei Ying shamelessly moaned, still unable to move well, hgj finally tugged at the plug, pulling it out slowly as Wei Ying hissed only to shove it back in with ruthless abandon.
Wei Ying rarely came from anal stimulation alone, a rather distressing fact he’d discovered after Lan Zhan ditched him for greener pastures. Only Lan Zhan ever managed to make him come untouched even though he loved nothing quite as much as that. It looked like hgj was going to do his best to make it happen, too. More surprising, he might succeed.
He wasn’t above begging for it, though, not with this guy who’d earned more than a few pleas out of Wei Ying, but there was a serious, intimate quality to hgj’s silence that made him want to keep it, too. He wasn’t just abiding by Wei Ying’s ridiculous and, frankly, unreasonable rule, he was the perfect embodiment of it.
hgj built pleasure within him brick by slowly, carefully placed brick, nurturing it until Wei Ying was brought as gently to the brink as he’d ever experienced. With a sigh, he melted into the sensations, floating almost, as sure of hgj’s care as he was of anything.
Muscles trembling, he dug his heels into the bed, tightened his hands into fists, pushed up into hgj’s hold on him. “Lan Zhan, please,” he mumbled, punch drunk, too low to properly hear. Even he didn’t notice what he’d said. If he did, he might have been mortified. “Please.”
Cruelly yanking the plug from within him, hgj slapped at his abdomen, light, more shocking than hurtful. The sound snapped him from his reverie. Words were unnecessary to convey his meaning. No.
Tears squeezed from the corner of his eyes and soaked into the blindfold. If he wasn’t half out of it with need, he might have been embarrassed, but he couldn’t deny it to himself, drawing deep, gulping breaths. He could only hope hgj wasn’t able to tell from the awkward hitch in his breathing.
It was a long time before it steadied, but hgj was a patient man.
Once Wei Ying calmed down enough, hgj started again, pushing the plug into him slowly until he was full again, turning it, pulling it out, shifting the angle. He did this to Wei Ying repeatedly, giving this to him and taking it away again, until even just the touch of hgj’s hand to his shoulder—his shoulder, not even anywhere near his lower body, just his shoulder, a gentle caress and a squeeze, if that—was enough to nearly push him over the edge into release.
His entire body became one over-sized erogenous zone, embarrassing.
When hgj took the plug away from Wei Ying one final time, not bothering to replace it, he shuddered and whined in the back of his throat, kicking out in frustration.
hgj climbed back onto the bed.
“Please,” Wei Ying whispered into hgj’s hair as hgj sucked a mark into his collarbone. He surged against the hold hgj had on his body. Both of his hands wrapped around his biceps and his bulk pinning the rest of him, thighs clamped around Wei Ying’s to fully incapacitate him. “Please, I need—” His whole body jolted as hgj lapped over his throat. He worked his arms out from under his head and collared hgj with them. His fingers tightened in hgj’s hair, long and loose around his shoulders, lank with sweat.
Oh.
Tears again prickled, blessedly hidden by the blindfold.
Lan Zhan had long hair back when he knew him, as sleek and smooth as hgj’s. He’d liked it when Wei Ying tugged on it and Wei Ying had liked that Lan Zhan liked it. Using what little self control he still had, he refrained from taking hold of it and yanking, curving his hand around hgj’s neck instead. With a sigh, hgj pulled back, dragging another cry from deep within Wei Ying’s body. He shifted around until his thighs were between Wei Ying’s, hiking Wei Ying’s legs up to settle on them. His saliva cooled on Wei Ying’s skin. “Fuck, please. Please, I can’t…”
Wei Ying was so close; even rolling his hips against nothing felt incredible, muscle memory filling in what genuine stimulus couldn’t.
He wanted hgj to press him into this bed and never let him up, the pair of them bonded together as one. But hgj wasn’t listening to him, leaving Wei Ying bereft. Wei Ying fought him, mindless, needing to be taken.
This time, he did gather hgj’s hair in his hand and pulled. hgj hissed.
Wei Ying cried, upset as hgj ducked his head and removed Wei Ying’s hands from his hair, upset as he pressed Wei Ying’s cuffed hands to his chest, upset as Wei Ying tried to smother the utterly mortifying sounds falling from his mouth. When he tried to crawl away, hgj grabbed him. When he tried to reach for himself, hgj slapped his hands aside. The sound was more startling than the pleasure-pain of the act, already subsiding, but it shocked Wei Ying into silence.
Trembling, he went limp, signaling his acceptance of what was happening. hgj would do whatever hgj wanted to do. Wei Ying had no choice but to comply unless he wanted to stop playing entirely.
He didn’t want to stop playing, he just wanted hgj back.
With his capitulation, he earned a condescending pat on his cheek, then a gentle caress, then hgj working him over.
hgj took him apart with each kiss, each pinch, each scraping touch of his fingers over his body. Every centimeter of his skin was explored and every time Wei Ying got close, hgj stopped what he was doing, sat back and waited. Once or twice, he took the time to jerk off, breathing harshly as his come spattered Wei Ying’s chest and neck, resuming only after he was satisfied it wouldn’t set Wei Ying off.
He felt used, barely more than an instrument for hgj to play upon and tease. Wei Ying could only bite his knuckles bloody to keep the inhuman keening muffled until even that was useless.
His entire body ceased obeying him, twitching and jerking with every sweep of hgj’s palm. He was a fire blazing too bright, sure to explode at the slightest provocation, taking everything in the conflagration.
The back of hgj’s hand grazed the sensitive patch of skin behind Wei Ying’s balls, igniting that inferno. Surely this wasn’t what hgj intended, getting Wei Ying off like it was an accident, but Wei Ying’s body gave him no choice in the matter. If hgj was an asshole, he’d have pulled away immediately, ruining the most spectacularly torturous orgasm of his life on a whim. Instead, he quickly speared Wei Ying on his fingers and grabbed his dick, stroking smoothly, way eased by the flood of precome coating it. Wei Ying flew apart at the seams, muscles tensing and releasing. Warmth splashed across his stomach and chest.
His orgasm cascaded over him endlessly as hgj took him for everything he had, pressing again and again against his prostate, relentless, merciless. It scoured him from the inside out.
In the moments that followed, his mind settled into a quiet he hadn’t experienced in years.
He breathed deeply, feeling light, clean, free. hgj gave him the space to enjoy it, two or three minutes where he faded into the background, noiseless, motionless. When Wei Ying came back to himself, his muscles ached, but only in the best possible way.
Surely this counted as a whole day, right? Wei Ying didn’t know how much time had passed, but he was out for the count now.
Which meant… it meant this was it. The moment he loathed and loved in equal measure. He laughed, giddy and sweaty and gross, fussing with the lock on the cuffs before finally tossing them aside. Throwing his arms out, he panted. He didn’t think he’d ever get it up again, broken under hgj’s ministrations.
He waited for hgj to gather his things and go so he could fully enjoy the haze of his afterglow, buoy himself up against the useless feelings that would follow. That was how these things usually went. It felt good now. It always felt good now. It was later when he’d wonder if this was the right thing to do.
He always concluded it was—what else was there, when every real attempt merely proved he was broken, built solely for Lan Zhan’s pleasure, a piece of him smashed to bits—and started again. But.
Well.
hgj blew that theory to pieces, doing everything Lan Zhan did and then some. So maybe… maybe it had been the right thing to do.
And that meant he couldn’t let hgj go like this. If there was even one other person out there who could remind him that Lan Zhan was not the only one for him, how he could he not take the chance?
He could say what needed to be said. His heart twisted with fear and his pulse was through the roof, but. He could.
“Um.” His throat, aching and dry, caught on that single syllable. Coughing, he tried again, uncharacteristically unsure of himself as hgj rose. In the bathroom, hgj ran water into the sink. He raised his voice, hoping he was heard. He didn’t think he’d have the courage to say it again or wait until hgj returned to say it. “I know this kind of goes against our agreement, but…”
The sound of water striking porcelain faded. Footsteps approached the bed. A glass of tepid water was pressed to his lips, a glass that clunked against the bed stand when he’d drunk his fill. A warm, damp cloth was pressed to his cheek. hgj’s touch was soft as he pushed Wei Ying’s hair back.
“You don’t have to do that,” Wei Ying insisted, shielding himself with his hand. Again, hgj slapped it aside, but gently this time, and continued to scrub at Wei Ying’s face. Wei Ying snapped the blindfold’s elastic band. “But, ah. May I take this off? I’d like to see you.”
hgj offered a hum of acquiescence. His voice was deep, sonorous. Wei Ying could drug himself on the sound of it.
Wei Ying’s hands shook as he fought every instinct he’d cultivated over the last few years. When Wei Ying failed to get the blindfold off himself, hgj hooked his fingers beneath the band and tugged. Caught by surprise, Wei Ying screwed his eyes shut and blew out a breath, heart caught in his throat. Who would he see? How could he care for them when they weren’t—?
He opened his eyes.
They weren’t—
What he saw was impossible. It was—
It just wasn’t possible.
But in Wei Ying’s life, few things seemed possible. His life with Lan Zhan had been impossible.
A chance encounter between two lonely transplants becoming something more? It was too cheesy to countenance. Even Wei Ying’s stomach revolted at the taste of those early, saccharine days they shared. Night after night, they’d learned one another’s bodies and minds. By mutual agreement, they’d kept their relationship to themselves. It was no loss to Wei Ying, who found it a waste when there were better things to do with his time, like tease Lan Zhan until he pinned Wei Ying to the bed.
Any possible link between them existed within their bedrooms alone, was known only by the delivery drivers who sometimes brought their meals to them just before closing, when Lan Zhan, spent, finally remembered they hadn’t eaten dinner, could only exist in the text message conversations Wei Ying periodically deleted.
They never traded emails and social media wasn’t like it was now. Weibo wasn’t even a thing until three months after Lan Zhan left him and Wei Ying hadn’t had a good reason to search him out in the years since.
The sex had been spectacular. Wei Ying still knew it to be love, what he’d felt. He’d trusted that Lan Zhan felt the same way. They never had to talk about it. What was there to talk about when their bodies spoke so eloquently in their stead? If they’d still been together when the legislation changed to allow any adult to be appointed legal guardian for another, he’d have signed it in a heartbeat.
Back then, he’d still believed there was plenty of time to say the words, make the proper commitment to one another. They could work their way up to telling their friends and family.
And then one day, Lan Zhan stopped answering his messages. He didn’t take Wei Ying’s calls. Wei Ying was certain something had happened to him—he was too good to leave Wei Ying hanging like that—but he’d harassed the staff at every hospital in Shanghai to no avail. Lan Zhan was just gone.
Slowly, Wei Ying grew to accept it. That Lan Zhan was that kind of person. That had seemed impossible, too.
“Lan Zhan?”
Fury replaced Wei Ying’s shock. He’d never in his life felt violated by the things he’d chosen to do, not until now, not when Lan Zhan knew all along and he’d—he’d started to believe he wasn’t beholden to faded memories and naïve dreams. Fuck, he really was broken. Why couldn’t he find someone else? Anyone else.
“Are you out of your mind?” Wei Ying shouted, afterglow incinerated in the heat of his despair. He shoved at Lan Zhan’s shoulder, kicked out at him, heel glancing off his hip. He didn’t pull his punch as he struck Lan Zhan’s arm. The cloth fell from his hand and landed in Wei Ying’s lap with a wet thwack. Wei Ying picked it up and threw it in Lan Zhan’s face, reflexive. He hadn’t even known he was going to do it until he did it. “Fuck off. Fuck you. I can’t believe—!”
In thirteen years, this was the only thing he’d ever wanted and now that he’d had it again, he could only feel disgust toward himself and toward Lan Zhan for taking advantage of him.
Lan Zhan’s face drained of color, ashen. He’d done nothing to avoid Wei Ying’s blows and he wouldn’t meet Wei Ying’s eyes. There was something diminished in Lan Zhan now. His shoulders curled protectively, hands cradling the cloth. Good. Let him be upset, too! Let him…
Wei Ying narrowed his eyes.
Lan Zhan breathed, slow and rattling, like he was trying to piece himself together after a shock. But Lan Zhan knew what he was doing. Surely he hadn’t thought he’d escape without Wei Ying ever knowing?
Except… except that would have happened. Or should have. They could have gone their separate ways and Wei Ying would never have realized. And why would he alert Wei Ying to the fact when he could have said no and gone? He was the one who let Wei Ying take the blindfold off. Why act surprised?
This wasn’t the Lan Zhan he knew.
“What the fuck made you think you could do this? Why didn’t you tell me? I might have…”
Beneath the betrayal that pierced Wei Ying’s hard-won acceptance—if this could be called acceptance, surely it wasn’t that, not when presented with the truth—of the circumstances that existed between them, Wei Ying couldn’t dredge up any satisfaction in this victory.
If Lan Zhan had messaged him out of the blue, he might have…
“It’s you, isn’t it?” Lan Zhan whispered, voice entirely devoid of emotion. It was the most beloved voice he’d ever known and he almost didn’t recognize it.
“What?”
“I don’t know you,” Lan Zhan said. Lifting his head, he looked Wei Ying in the eye. They were so wide, so wild, brimming with regret. A tear rolled down his cheek, dashed aside with a careless flick of his knuckles. “I saw your profile and I… I wanted to know you. You were beautiful. You’re still… you’re beautiful. I don’t know you, but I should, shouldn’t I?”
What—what the fuck did that even mean? How could he not know Wei Ying? Surely he wasn’t that forgettable? Surely…
This wasn’t the Lan Zhan he knew.
A horrified thought crossed his mind, impossible, unbelievable. Entirely plausible given the context of their relationship as it stood back then, a secret they’d kept so jealously for such a short time. Even like this, Lan Zhan looked so honest, so virtuous. Never in a million years would he take advantage of Wei Ying this way.
Wei Ying studied Lan Zhan’s face, older, but so much the same in so many ways. It would have been easy to miss the thin, silvered scar along his temple. His hairline became a broken coastline where a scar snaked through his scalp near his ear. When he reached out to touch it, Lan Zhan flinched and then leaned into it.
Wei Ying choked on a laugh, on his tears, on Lan Zhan’s shitty fucking luck. “Something happened to you.” He’d always known; he just hadn’t had faith. He laughed again, brushed at his wet cheeks. He should have tried harder back then. Fuck. Fuck. “Thirteen years ago?”
Lan Zhan nodded jerkily.
“An accident?” Wei Ying hazarded.
Another nod. Wei Ying had seen dramas less trite than this.
He swore under his breath. “You lost your memories?”
“The six months or so prior to the accident.” They’d only known one another for four. “I don’t remember my time in Shanghai well. My phone and laptop were destroyed. When I was able to leave the hospital, my family took me home to Suzhou to recover.” He studied his hands. “My brother collected my things from my apartment. Mixed in were a few items I knew couldn’t be mine. I felt sure… I knew they belonged to someone I cared about, but he insisted I’d never mentioned being with anyone.” His gaze was so clear, so certain. It frightened Wei Ying, that clarity. “It was you?”
This time, it was Wei Ying who could only nod, words failing him. His anger didn’t dissipate, of course it couldn’t, but he turned it inward as he watched Lan Zhan struggle. He should have turned Shanghai upside down to find Lan Zhan. Even if he didn’t remember Wei Ying, Wei Ying could have been there. He would have pretended they were only friends if that was necessary. Anything to stay by Lan Zhan’s side.
“Why would I… I don’t understand. I couldn’t find anything, not in my notebooks, not in my email. There were no pictures backed up anywhere. It was like you didn’t exist.”
If it didn’t hurt so much, he would have wailed. “We didn’t tell anyone.”
“My uncle and brother didn’t know then?”
“We didn’t want to tell them.”
“We were secretive with each other, too? My coworkers at the time knew nothing about it.”
“I didn’t even know where you worked.” Wei Ying touched Lan Zhan’s cheek again, heart filling with hope and wonder as Lan Zhan leaned into the touch fully, not flinching at all. “I can’t tell you what you felt about it. We never really talked about it. But I think we… I think as long as we kept as much of the rest of the world out of it as possible, we thought it would be easy. And that one day we would have been together long enough to start telling others. At least I felt that way. Which was stupid because—”
“Because?”
“Ah, Lan Zhan. Do you really want to dredge this up? You’ve been doing fine for thirteen—”
Lan Zhan’s expression collapsed in on itself. “I would not say that.”
“Lan Zhan?”
“I wear your t-shirts to bed sometimes to feel closer to you. I’ve missed you even when I didn’t know it was you I was missing. I have not been well without you. I’m sorry I wasn’t.”
“Lan Zhan, I held a stupid torch for you this whole time. I set up this whole stupid roleplay in the hopes of recreating what we had. Over and over again.” Affection, warm and brutal in its strength, expanded within Wei Ying’s chest, threatening to burst. He was absolutely forced to throw himself into Lan Zhan’s arms and squeeze the life out of him. He couldn’t not. It might have been too much, but it didn’t matter. He had to. “When we played this way, it was always my favorite. I missed you so much.”
Lan Zhan’s thumb skimmed over his cheek. His other hand tipped Wei Ying’s chin up. “We did this back then?”
“We were filthy. The first time we fucked, I had so many noise complaints against me. I had to soundproof my room. We—” A giddy flush rose, burning, in his cheeks. “We did a lot of things together.”
“Did we date?”
Wei Ying grimaced. “Does takeout count?”
Lan Zhan searched his face, frowning. “I wouldn’t wish to burden you against your wishes,” he said, careful, “but I would like to… I would like to get to know you again if that was at all possible.”
Wei Ying’s heart was going to burst within his chest. Happiness like this, imperfect as it was? He couldn’t have imagined it before now. They could start again. Wei Ying would do it right this time.
“May I take you on a date?” Lan Zhan asked, while Wei Ying’s world found its proper axis again.
“Ah?”
“I would like to do so now if you’re amenable.”
“Right now?”
“You did promise to be mine for the day.”
A date with Lan Zhan. “I did. I will be.”
Lan Zhan’s gaze dipped to Wei Ying’s lap. “Perhaps we should bathe and dress first.”
“And then go on a date?”
Lan Zhan’s lips tipped into a small, shy smile. Remarkable for a guy who’d knocked all his toys to the floor and then took him apart for hours at a time. “Yes.”
That was what he loved best about Lan Zhan, always so certain once he’d made a decision. “I’d like that, Lan Zhan.”
They showered. They dressed. They made it halfway through dinner before Wei Ying was impatiently dragged back to the hotel after having pressed the sole of his shoe to Lan Zhan’s fly until he was shifting in his seat, a blush crawling up his earlobes the whole time. Laughing, Wei Ying sniped the bill on the way out. The first time around, they’d been so circumspect. Wei Ying had thirteen years of shamelessness to catch up on.
Lan Zhan didn’t seem to mind. Maybe it was weird, but he didn’t seem uncomfortable. And neither did Wei Ying as he grasped this opportunity between both hands.
They fucked—how either of them got it up again, Wei Ying couldn’t say, but they did and being able to look up into Lan Zhan’s pretty eyes made it so much better—and clung to one another afterward. Lan Zhan asked to be shown pictures of their time together, pictures Wei Ying still had, of course, carefully filed away and moved from phone to phone to phone with every upgrade. Though the resolution was low, bad even by the standards set back then, each of them shot on a crappy two megapixel camera phone that had been high-end a few years before they met.
Lan Zhan asked a dizzying array of questions and Wei Ying answered them all to the best of his ability. Lan Zhan’s focus was something akin to a man in the desert falling upon an oasis. He studied each picture in detail, trying to zoom in for a better look. It only succeeded in making the images blurry, but it was better than nothing.
They’ll take clearer pictures going forward.
Maybe being together will help him clarify those memories. Maybe it won’t. Even if Lan Zhan never remembered, it didn’t matter to Wei Ying. Lan Zhan was still the same Lan Zhan to him. They’ll make it work.
“How long are you in Shanghai?” Wei Ying asked when Lan Zhan had exhausted his supply of pictures. Dusting kisses across Lan Zhan’s too tempting chest, he mentally rearranged his schedule to allow himself as much time with Lan Zhan as possible before he had to leave.
“A few weeks.”
So much time!
“Not long enough,” Lan Zhan continued.
Lan Zhan!
“You’re just back in Suzhou, aren’t you? It’s only a few hours away. I’ll take the train down as often as you’d like. I don’t mind.” Hell, he’d commute if that was what was needed to keep Lan Zhan in his life. This hotel room felt more comfortable to him than his own apartment. Shanghai wasn’t home to him even after thirteen years spent living here. Who cared where he was now that he could pursue this instead?
Lan Zhan’s arms tightened around him. “Too far.”
“Lan Zhan,” Wei Ying scolded. “Be reasonable.”
“I am reasonable.”
“You’re not,” Wei Ying said, fond. Everything about Lan Zhan was the same as before. Wei Ying still loved everything about this man. “We’ll figure it out, okay?”
Though Lan Zhan hummed in agreement, Wei Ying got the feeling Lan Zhan was doing his own mental arithmetic. Wei Ying was fine with it. Anything Lan Zhan wanted to do with him, he was fine with.
As long as they tried to find a way forward together, that was what mattered. Maybe it wouldn’t work out long term, maybe it would, Wei Ying was just grateful for the chance to find out. He let himself have a good feeling about it anyway.
After a few more minutes spent lounging, Lan Zhan shifted and grabbed his phone from the bed stand. He shoved it in front of Wei Ying, showing off his Wechat QR code. “Just in case,” Lan Zhan said.
Without hesitation, Wei Ying accepted it.
Next, a Weibo request.
This, too, Wei Ying accepted.
More notifications dinged. Lan Zhan was quite the social butterfly. Oasis, xiaohongshu, QQ, others. Apps Wei Ying didn’t even use. Wei Ying downloaded and accepted requests on all of them.
Within three minutes, Lan Zhan’s phone rang, proving Lan Zhan’s point back then. “Ge,” Lan Zhan said. On Wei Ying’s exposed thigh, Lan Zhan drew out a handful of characters. Can I tell him? Though his nerves sang—this was so new, so different from what he was used to—he offered a thumbs up. Without missing a beat, he squeezed Wei Ying’s hand, spoke again. “Yes, there is someone I want to introduce you and uncle to.”
Though he didn’t say it outright, Wei Ying knew what he meant.
They wouldn’t lose track of one another again.