By Zephyria The fireworks burned out.
The alley corner was once again shrouded in heavy darkness, the deep blue night obscuring the slanting moon, neither dispersing nor fading away.
As the light extinguished, the courage Jing Mian had mustered with great effort came to an abrupt halt.
Because the air fell into silence.
Courage often requires certain moments, like their separate journeys before meeting at the corner, like the fact that only one minute remained before Mr. Ren’s birthday ended, like the fireworks he happened to have in his backpack.
And when those moments vanished, everything returned to normal. Jing Mian finally snapped out of his impulsive state, completely sobered up, and realized what he had just done.
He—
had just—
kissed Mr. Ren.
……
?!
He had also said other things, that his answer was in that letter, that he had his own selfish desires… and that he wanted to fall passionately in love with his husband.
The young man was utterly extinguished.
The heat had already spread to his neck and the tips of his ears in an instant. If not for the dim lighting, his current state would have been fully captured by Mr. Ren without missing a single detail.
Jing Mian awkwardly lowered his hand, his voice dry as he forced himself not to stutter: “It’s past midnight. Should we go home?”
…
“No.”
The man’s voice was low and brief.
Jing Mian’s wrist was grasped.
As Mr. Ren’s footsteps sounded, Jing Mian was forced to follow. The surrounding temperature was cold, yet the air inexplicably burned.
They entered the stairwell of the residential complex. Jing Mian saw the stubborn advertisements on the walls that couldn’t be scraped off, the three households on each floor with their worn-out door couplets, the gray concrete steps, and the motion-sensor lights flickering on with each step… Everything seemed utterly incompatible with Mr. Ren.
Amidst the sound of their footsteps, they finally stopped on the fourth floor.
Jing Mian looked bewildered, his Adam’s apple bobbing slightly.
Why had they come to the rental apartment?
Weren’t they going home?
“Where’s the key?”
Jing Mian’s thoughts were sluggish as he lowered his gaze to answer, “In my jacket pocket—”
…In my jacket pocket.
He didn’t get to finish the sentence.
His back pressed against the security door with a dull thud, abruptly awakening the motion sensor light on this floor.
Jing Mian’s lips were captured in a kiss.
The unfinished words were swallowed as he was swiftly overwhelmed by the invading kiss. A familiar taste engulfed his lips and teeth, while a broad hand gripped his waist, lifting him slightly.
The other man’s knee pressed against the security door, and Jing Mian’s body softened, trapped in the confined space like molten lava.
It was more intense than any kiss before, scorching away every trace of breath.
It felt like it had been so long since he’d last kissed his husband.
Even just kissing felt this good, how had they managed to abstain for the past two months?
…
So restrained.
Jing Mian noticed Mr. Ren pause slightly, loosening his hold to look down at him.
The motion-sensor light had already turned off, plunging the surroundings into darkness. Jing Mian faintly glimpsed the man’s eyes, now tinged with a deep, fragmented glow. In a daze, he realized he might have unconsciously murmured those last three words aloud.
Soon, Jing Mian’s ear was bitten.
He couldn’t suppress a startled gasp, a soft moan escaping him.
His eyelashes fluttered uncontrollably.
“Were you talking about me?”
Mr. Ren’s voice by his ear sounded unchanged: “So you knew all along.”
“Little fox.”
Jing Mian’s entire face flushed crimson in an instant.
His ears burned just as fiercely.
They rarely indulged in such intimacy, nor had they ever flirted so closely and consciously while sober. Jing Mian melted under the teasing, his mind hazy and dizzy.
Mr. Ren kissed him relentlessly, chasing his lips, nipping at them, while his hand reached around Jing Mian’s side to retrieve the key. With only faint light to guide him, he quickly found the lock.
The metallic sound of the key turning brought Jing Mian slightly back to his senses.
“Brother, I went to Yancheng,” Jing Mian managed to say between breaths.
At this moment, Jing Mian suddenly wanted to tell him, that he had also prepared a surprise for Mr. Ren. It was romantic, grand, witnessed by crowds on the beach and the square. Though the one who should have seen it most had missed it, his husband ought to know.
Know that his little one could be romantic too.
Mr. Ren indeed paused. “When?”
“Yesterday morning,” Jing Mian said. “I booked a hotel and just got back tonight.”
“Alone?”
Jing Mian nodded, then after a thought, shook his head. “Not entirely. Yu Nian and Chen Ke helped me along the way.”
The arm around the young man’s waist tightened slightly. “Why Yancheng?”
Jing Mian answered honestly, “For your birthday.”
“I reserved the big screen at Yantan Square, and fireworks,” Jing Mian said, meeting the man’s gaze. “At around five in the evening.”
Mr. Ren: “A birthday surprise?”
Jing Mian: “Mm.”
“Lots of people took photos and videos, probably thinking I was just a fan of Actor Ren.” Jing Mian pressed his lips together. Strangely, saying it now, in this situation, felt entirely different, his mood lifting from the suffocating gloom, his voice softening. “Only you didn’t see it.”
Mr. Ren was silent for a few seconds before saying earnestly, “I’m sorry.”
The man kissed his brow, and Jing Mian squinted slightly from the ticklish sensation. He heard his husband say, “At that time, I was desperate to see you too.”
Jing Mian’s breath hitched.
Every cell in his body screamed; his heart pounded wildly.
All regrets vanished in that instant.
They had missed each other while longing to meet, only to reunite at the corner of a rundown rental.
Could anything be more romantic than this?
Jing Mian reached into his coat pocket and pulled something out.
Under the dim light, he fastened a bracelet around Mr. Ren’s wrist.
This was a scene he had dreamed of countless nights, only, in each dream, the other’s face had been blurred. He had refused to dwell on the past, tried to sever ties with it.
Everything seemed frozen twelve years ago. Jing Mian hadn’t known what his brother had grown into, let alone imagined they would one day become lifelong partners.
Guilt had shadowed his childhood and youth, making this undelivered gift unbearably heavy.
But today, he could finally wipe away the dust and truly give this long-cherished gift to its rightful owner.
It felt like bidding farewell to the past.
And embracing a new beginning.
The blue star pendant dangled. Jing Mian’s thumb brushed over its slightly hard edge, glimmering brightly. When he spoke again, the words no longer stuck in his throat. The young man said,
“A birthday gift from twelve years ago.”
“Starting today, celebrate your birthday every year, okay?”
“Okay.”
Mr. Ren lowered his gaze slightly and murmured, “On one condition, you’re there for every one of them.”
Jing Mian swallowed.
He agreed, “Okay.”
Mr. Ren also reached into his coat and retrieved something. When Jing Mian saw it clearly, he realized it was a lone key, glinting faintly.
The key to the third drawer.
The key was pressed into his palm, its metallic surface slightly hard, warmed by human touch. Mr. Ren’s voice was deep: “It was originally mine.”
Jing Mian froze slightly.
He was referring to the birthday gift.
When the kisses resumed, they were gentle yet domineering, deepening with each press until Jing Mian’s legs grew weak beneath him.
He heard his husband say:
“You’ve always been mine.”
It sounded like he wasn’t talking about the birthday gift anymore.
With the final turn of the key, a soft click echoed.
The door opened.
Their movements were quiet despite the intensity, the motion-sensor light dimming as Mr. Ren’s arm tightened around his waist. With just a slight exertion of strength, Jing Mian’s feet left the ground.
Inside, the temperature rose noticeably, making their heavy coats unnecessary, especially when the air between them had grown so scorching. The atmosphere hinted at what was to come.
It had been too long since their last time. Jing Mian wondered if he’d get any sleep tonight, with club renovations finished and training scheduled for tomorrow… Lost in thought, he noticed Mr. Ren kissing him while simultaneously loosening his black tie with one hand.
“……”
Jing Mian’s heart raced wildly.
This might have been the first time he truly, viscerally recognized how handsome his husband was.
“What are you thinking about?”
Even this brief distraction didn’t escape notice.
Jing Mian paused before answering, “About this time last year.”
“We were kissing then too.”
Mr. Ren stilled.
“During your first visit to my place?”
“Mn.”
Back then, the first snow had just fallen, blanketing Maple Leaf Community in white. Mr. Ren’s car had been the only one in sight, its headlights cutting through the snowy haze as it carried him toward their new home.
It felt both recent and distant all at once.
Jing Mian murmured, “Husband initiated it.”
Mr. Ren’s expression softened, the faintest smile appearing. “I did.”
They gazed at each other in silence.
Then Mr. Ren said, “Kiss me.”
Heat exploded across Jing Mian’s face, staining even his joints pink. Tilting his head slightly, he leaned in. As their lips met, the moonlight behind the thick fog dimmed perfectly in sync.
His kiss was light, barely there.
His husband’s response was anything but, claiming, conquering.
When the lack of air left him dizzy, Mr. Ren spoke against his lips: “Repeat what you just said.”
“?”
Jing Mian blinked. “Which part?”
Mr. Ren kissed him. “All of it.”
Every inch of Jing Mian’s face burned. Forcing himself to recall, he managed fragments: “Husband belongs to me first.”
Encouraged, words that had been too embarrassing to voice now spilled out:
“I’m selfish when it comes to Husband.”
…
“I want us to fall deeply in love.”
After a pause, he added:
“Happy birthday.”
A gentle nip at his throat made him shiver. “Heard you,” Mr. Ren murmured before soothing the spot with his tongue.
Jing Mian swallowed hard.
His husband was too good at this.
Leaving him dazed and overheated.
With ears fully red and kissed skin damp, his breaths uneven, Jing Mian quietly added one last confession:
“I love Husband.”
The figure above him stilled.
Mr. Ren looked down, fingers tightening at his nape as if trying to knead the words into his very flesh, voice altered:
“You’ve never said that before.”
“I haven’t?”
“First time.”
Jing Mian smiled faintly: “I might have forgotten it.”
“You can’t forget.” Mr. Ren’s voice was gentle yet firm as he said, “Say it again.”
Jing Mian’s entire body grew warm.
His hand rested loosely on the other’s shoulder, both exhilarated and dazed.
“I like Husband.”
“Not enough.”
Jing Mian’s Adam’s apple bobbed, intoxicated and pliant as if steeped in wine.
The next second, his voice became feather-light, as though he didn’t want Husband to catch it.
He tightened his arms around the man’s neck, hiding his expression as he whispered into Mr. Ren’s ear:
“I love Husband.”
……
He should have said it long ago. Suddenly Jing Mian felt his eyes grow hot, his blood turning scalding. He could hear Husband’s breathing, sense his reticence and silence, a wordless roiling clamor.
They’d missed each other for too long.
Making this moment choked and burning.
The world was a kaleidoscope of strangeness,
But they were each other’s antidote.
The bedframe creaked.
Jing Mian was burning up yet his limbs felt weak.
Tilting his head back, he opened his eyes dazedly, “What are we doing?”
Mr. Ren said, “Unwrapping the birthday present.”