The gentleman says: form is emptiness, emptiness is form.
White steam filled the bathroom as Xie Qi emptied his mind and took a shower. In those short twenty minutes, his thoughts wandered to many profound life debates—like where the line lay between flirtation and respect, or how to measure the difference between a “sleazy, desperate creep” and a “man who knows when to seize the moment.”
Such tough questions.
Xie Qi watched the last bits of foam swirl down the drain with the water, catching a faint lavender scent lingering in the air. Then he remembered: it was the aroma from the bath bomb Wen Jiang had just used.
Fuck.
His debate screeched to a halt. He wiped his face, shut off the water, toweled his hair dry, and weighed his options for two seconds. In the end, he didn’t pull off the Summer Carbonated Apple Romance protagonist’s move of striding out with just a towel around his waist—Wen Jiang clearly wouldn’t blush, squeeze his eyes shut, and squeal. Xie Qi dressed properly in pajamas, opened the bathroom door, and found Wen Jiang no longer in the chair.
It was bedtime anyway; why sit there? During Xie Qi’s shower, Wen Jiang had already shifted his reading spot to the bed. Hearing the sound, he looked up, his gaze meeting Xie Qi’s.
It was hard to describe the feeling of emerging from a shower to find his lover waiting on the bed. Xie Qi kept his expression neutral.
Wen Jiang blinked, suddenly realizing what that faint sense of déjà vu was. Sharing a room with another guy, syncing sleep schedules, hoping neither snored or ground their teeth—this was just like the summer camp dorms from middle school.
Except they’d booked the cheaper king-size room.
Though the room’s quality was at least on par with a presidential suite in a five-star hotel. Ignoring Xie Qi’s gaze—which felt almost tangible—Wen Jiang asked, “Ready for bed?”
Xie Qi said, “Yeah.”
The reply came so fast. To be safe, Wen Jiang asked, “Anything else you need to do?”
…This was clearly just asking if he wanted to read more or scroll on his phone—some “opportunity” that hadn’t really existed anyway slipped away. Xie Qi said, “Nope.”
His tone sounded so heavy. Wen Jiang nodded, closed his book, set it aside, turned on the bedside reading lamp, and said, “Then lights out.”
Xie Qi switched off the main light, leaving only the small lamp by Wen Jiang glowing. He climbed into bed, lifted the covers, and slipped under. Wen Jiang then extinguished that lamp too. The bedroom plunged into darkness and silence. Xie Qi lay flat on his back, staring at the ceiling, aware that his shoulder was about a handspan from Wen Jiang’s.
He lay there quietly, feeling… something. Satisfaction, mixed with a hollow sense of extravagantly wasting something precious.
They had the amusement park tomorrow. Wen Jiang began brewing sleepiness beside him. After a moment, Xie Qi spoke up: “…You settling in okay?”
Wen Jiang hummed affirmatively, then heard another question: “Can we do this again next time?”
Wen Jiang said, “Sure.” He could tell Xie Qi perked up. A beat later: “You sleepy yet?”
The scene felt straight out of a manga—those late-night talks about stars, dreams, and futures. “Not yet,” Wen Jiang said, opening his eyes. He didn’t mind pre-sleep chatter. He turned his head slightly; his dark-adapted eyes caught Xie Qi staring earnestly at the ceiling as he raved about how good the bread had been.
That was my carefully crafted masterpiece, Wen Jiang thought, pleased. “I thought so too.”
He turned his head back, but keenly caught a hint of something off. He glanced over again and saw Xie Qi still fixed on the ceiling, praising him.
“…”
Chit-chat wandered freely—from bread to dinner, dinner to video games, games to homework. Xie Qi’s tone was normal, his pace steady, his gaze locked straight overhead like some monk deep in meditation. Wen Jiang watched for a moment, then quietly rolled onto his side, facing him.
He spoke up suddenly: “Xie Qi, look to your left.”
Xie Qi, interrupted, instinctively glanced left—only darkness, the wall, and nightstand. Nothing there. He blinked, then heard Wen Jiang say flatly, “Now look right.”
Playing a game? Xie Qi turned his head, and his eyes met Wen Jiang’s face, inches away.
Nightfall draped a thin veil over him, softening his inherent sharpness. Wen Jiang’s hand rested on his pillow in a lazy, relaxed pose—soft and comfortable. Those ink-black eyes gazed steadily at Xie Qi, lashes fluttering like butterfly wings. Xie Qi’s breath hitched, his heartbeat thundering in his ears. In his daze, he swore he smelled lavender again.
Wen Jiang had definitely noticed his daze. Xie Qi heard a soft laugh—lower than usual, the ending drawn out like a gentle scratch against his heart, leaving it tingling and itchy. Xie Qi rolled to face him, reached out, and cupped Wen Jiang’s cheek. His thumb brushed gently twice, then his hand slid down to grip his waist, pulling Wen Jiang into his arms.
Wen Jiang heard the thump-thump of Xie Qi’s heart. Xie Qi’s hand lingered on his side for seconds before slipping under his clothes.
Skin-to-skin contact was far more intimate and silky than through fabric. Xie Qi stroked back and forth a couple times. For the first time, no rejection came. It felt dreamlike, like being conked on the head by a pie from the sky—dizzying. His throat bobbed, and he muttered softly, “Fuck.”
His hand ventured lower, tracing the smooth curve of Wen Jiang’s back until it found the two shallow dimples at the base of his spine. His mind blanked again. “Damn.”
Wen Jiang: …
Boyfriend, you touch me and curse at the same time?
When Xie Qi had pulled him in, the force angled downward, creating a height difference on the bed. Only half of Wen Jiang’s face cleared Xie Qi’s shoulder. Curious what he’d do next, Wen Jiang simply let him continue stroking.
Then he felt…
…a bit sleepy.
In a comfortable, safe space where he could fully relax, Wen Jiang turned extra lazy. The embrace was warm, the scent familiar, the strokes gentle—and nothing too sensitive was being touched. Plus, they were in bed, late at night; timing and place conspired perfectly. Wen Jiang felt no arousal from the caresses, just a cozy drowsiness, like curling into his nest.
The sleepiness wasn’t overwhelming—not yet. He reminded Xie Qi, “Keep this up, and I’ll fall asleep.”
Xie Qi’s hand stilled awkwardly. “Oh.”
Wen Jiang shifted lightly, and Xie Qi loosened his hold enough for him to pull back from the tight embrace.
But Xie Qi still loosely encircled him, hand staying under the clothes—like he wouldn’t move unless told.
Wen Jiang didn’t speak, just looked up at him. Xie Qi felt his soul get sucked into those abyss-like eyes.
Wen Jiang was utterly at ease in his arms—more than with anyone else.
Wen Jiang tolerated him, permitted him, didn’t reject him, even welcomed closeness. Every embrace revealed more sweetness the better he knew him. Xie Qi always craved more, convinced he could have it.
An embrace, then…
More solemn than any past probe, Xie Qi lowered his head, gazing at Wen Jiang as he slowly leaned in.
Wen Jiang lowered his lashes, feeling the breath draw near. This time, no dodging.
This is what couples do—no need to dodge.
His heart surged hot. Lips brushed lightly, parted briefly, then met again.
Xie Qi thought, Wen Jiang’s lips really are soft.
After the clumsy first kiss, the next grew more lingering, heated. At first, it felt like kissing flower petals blooming under a snowy mountain, dusted with cool frost. Soon, his own heat warmed them, turning it to sugar-dusted pastry. Friction flushed Wen Jiang’s lips crimson. Xie Qi caught a tiny gasp, pulled back, voice husky: “Open your mouth… okay?”
Wen Jiang understood. “Okay.”
Xie Qi’s lips returned, tongue slipping through the parted seam. Zero practical experience, but plenty of absorbed theory. He probed deeper, growing adept with tries, greedily seeking more. Wen Jiang indulged him, tilting his head back slightly. Xie Qi’s aggression swelled—obvious—and Wen Jiang wasn’t surprised.
Xie Qi was always like this: meticulous at first, then carried away. But his boldness had limits, set by Wen Jiang. As Xie Qi’s hand grew bolder, dipping into his waistband, Wen Jiang lightly touched his arm during a breath: “Early morning tomorrow.”
Given the hour and Xie Qi’s prior energy, continuing meant no sleep.
Proof that foreplay can’t drag too long.
The hand on Wen Jiang paused, then withdrew reluctantly yet obediently. Noses touching, Xie Qi wheedled for a reward: “…A few more kisses, okay?”
The words begged, but his tone held heated certainty—lost on no S-Grade esper’s ears. Wen Jiang blinked, meeting the eager gaze with flat words: “Too slow.”
Too long from command to hand withdrawal.
“…”
Xie Qi had to muster effort to say, “Oh.” Harder than any past “hold back.”
Can’t negotiate more? He wrestled internally, then heard Wen Jiang pivot calmly: “But okay.”
Teasing him how many times tonight!
Xie Qi tightened his arms and kissed Wen Jiang fiercely again.
