We Can’t Go Back 43

Chapter 43

“Gege, what’s your favorite weather?”

“Rainy days.”

“Why do you like rainy days?”

“Because of the fog.”

“Gege, then morning, noon, or night, which one do you like?”

“Morning.”

“Why?”

“Morning fog.”

…

City B, located in the south, always had foggy weather during the spring and autumn rainy seasons.

On a rainy weekend, the bus stop was deserted, only the red and yellow fallen leaves from the roadside trees rustled on the ground.

Song Shuci had ranked first in the city’s mid-term exams during the first semester of his senior year, so he shamelessly pestered Jian Wu for a reward every day.

They weren’t together yet at that time, still in the stage where Song Shuci repeatedly confessed, and he repeatedly rejected him. Song Shuci brought an instant camera from home, saying he wanted to take photos of him. This reward wasn’t excessive, so Jian Wu naturally couldn’t refuse.

Song Shuci, who loved taking photos of him, actually wasn’t very skilled, but he was excellent at providing emotional validation. No matter how the photos turned out, he would always sincerely praise them.

Jian Wu once suspected that Song Shuci’s photography skills hadn’t improved because his adolescent emotions blinded him, making him unable to distinguish good from bad.

But regardless of the reason, he still served as Song Shuci’s model time and time again.

Song Shuci said he wanted to take photos of the bus stop and the maple leaves, so he sat on the bench at the bus stop patiently, letting him take photos. He finished a whole bottle of drink, and Song Shuci was still not satisfied.

More than ten years ago, City B’s urban development was still quite average, and this area hadn’t been well-developed, with barely any convenience stores around. He was parched, and his water was gone. Song Shuci, seeing his thirst, handed him his own water.

Actually, based on their relationship, sharing a cup was quite common before Song Shuci’s confession, but with the added layer of Song Shuci’s unrequited feelings, this gesture seemed somewhat ambiguous.

Jian Wu looked at the cup hesitantly. Drinking without touching the rim would seem like he was being squeamish, but drinking directly would seem like he was giving a certain implication. After thinking about it, he chose the latter.

After putting down the cup, to ease the awkwardness, he took the initiative to look at the photos Song Shuci had taken.

He was shocked by what he saw. He used the instant film like it was free. In just twenty minutes at the bus stop, he had used at least two hundred yuan worth of film.

But it was raining, and the fog was thick, so all the photos were blurry and of poor quality.

Although their families had similar financial backgrounds, their upbringing led to vastly different spending habits. Song Shuci, raised as a young master, spent money lavishly, while Jian Wu, taught to be frugal since childhood, felt his heart ache looking at the wasted film.

He hurriedly advised: “Stop taking photos, the weather isn’t good today, the fog is too thick, it’s not suitable for taking photos.”

But Song Shuci, holding the instant camera, said to him: “I like the fog.”

Jian Wu was no longer the twelve or thirteen-year-old junior high student who would chase after Song Shuci and ask him why he liked rainy days and mornings.

He knew which “fog” Song Shuci was referring to.

But Song Shuci insisted on talking about the weather: “Don’t you think foggy days are interesting?”

“With such thick fog, no one will see what we’re doing.”

He put his hand, holding the camera, on Jian Wu’s leg and looked at the teenager’s clear features in the hazy fog.

“…Which means we can do anything.”

Song Shuci’s voice was naturally deep and low. He would sing any high-pitched song off-key, but this voice, when saying certain things, had a unique charm.

Jian Wu felt he must have been bewitched by his voice, which was why he didn’t immediately dodge when Song Shuci kissed him. It wasn’t until his hand accidentally hit the camera that he snapped out of it and pulled away.

Song Shuci lost his grip, and he happened to hit the shutter button. The poor instant camera, after flipping in the air, landed with a thud, only managing to spit out one last photo before dying.

And Jian Wu, usually polite, forgot to even apologize. Flustered and red-eared, he stepped onto a bus that happened to stop nearby, leaving Song Shuci at the bus stop.

Song Shuci’s lips were thin, making one think of cold sculptures, but their actual touch was soft and warm, slightly warmer than other parts of his body.

In fact, Jian Wu thought, he realized he liked Song Shuci from that first kiss.

He rode the bus from the starting station to the terminal, then back again, circling City B, the rain stopped, the fog cleared, but he still couldn’t forget the trembling in his heart at that moment.

Compared to “rekindling old feelings,” “rekindling old desires” seemed to be more common between exes.

Seven years, kissing Song Shuci had almost become Jian Wu’s instinct.

So, when Song Shuci kissed him this time, his brain hadn’t even had time to process the information before his lips instinctively responded.

Song Shuci, who had been planning this, didn’t give him a chance to back down and immediately bit his lower lip. He prevented him from escaping while gently kissing him, soft and lingering like the fog, moist and clingy.

He didn’t seem satisfied with just a light taste. After a while, Song Shuci lifted Jian Wu’s chin with one hand and deepened the kiss.

His hand also slid down, his fingers slipping into the space between Jian Wu’s neck and the massage chair, gripping the back of his neck, his thumb pressing against his jawbone, preventing him from closing his mouth, forcing him to accept the invasion.

Jian Wu, his head tilted back, his vision blocked, curled his fingers restlessly.

He couldn’t help but let out a soft moan, and Song Shuci pressed down on his chin, making him open his mouth wider, forcing all the sounds to escape without reservation.

The entanglement of their tongues was warm and ambiguous, their heavy breaths mingling.

They were always in sync when it came to kissing, needing no words to cooperate seamlessly.

When Jian Wu’s face was flushed and he was out of breath, Song Shuci would let go, allowing him to catch his breath. Then he would kiss him again, continuing his lingering assault.

Again and again, again and again.

Song Shuci’s kisses deepened, his breaths becoming hotter. As if his emotions were too strong to express, even holding the back of his neck wasn’t enough, so he cupped the back of his head, deepening the kiss.

The massage chair behind him continued its diligent work. Jian Wu felt his entire body burning, sensitive, even tears welled up in his eyes, so much so that he didn’t even notice the mechanisms on his arms and legs loosening several times.

By the time Song Shuci let go, Jian Wu’s limbs were weak.

He leaned back, panting, a telltale blush lingering on his cheeks.

A tear from his left eye, about to fall onto the mole on his cheek, was caught by Song Shuci’s finger and smeared across his face.

The room was so quiet you could hear a pin drop. Jian Wu could almost hear the sound of Song Shuci’s fingertip against his skin.

He looked at Song Shuci’s long fingers on his face and finally couldn’t help but ask: “Are you drunk?”

Besides this possibility, he couldn’t understand Song Shuci’s behavior.

Song Shuci stood up, picked up his empty water cup, his gaze fixed on Jian Wu’s glistening lips: “Did you taste any alcohol?”

He hadn’t fully calmed down from the kiss either. His ears were red, his nose slightly sweaty from the heat, his hair messy, a few damp strands falling onto his forehead, his eyes still carrying a lingering haze, and a suppressed yet intense desire.

Jian Wu looked at him, then quickly averted his gaze.

“Does Professor Song always like to kiss people before establishing a relationship?”

He tried to use the formal address to diffuse the overly intimate atmosphere, but Song Shuci didn’t take the bait.

The man’s voice, still hoarse from the kiss, was like a small, charged brush, sending shivers down Jian Wu’s spine.

“So you’re saying…” Song Shuci looked deeply into his eyes, “We should establish a relationship now?”

Jian Wu fell silent.

He suspected Song Shuci’s eyes had some kind of magic, how else could his mind go blank, like floating on clouds, whenever Song Shuci spoke?

He looked at Song Shuci, and Song Shuci looked back at him. In the dim light, neither of them spoke, only their heavy breaths could be heard.

After a moment, Jian Wu’s eyelashes trembled slightly.

—Song Shuci reached out and unbuttoned the first button of his shirt.

“What kind of man are you, what kind of man are you…”

The sudden ringtone was like an outsider almost interrupting the scene. Jian Wu’s expression changed instantly.

At the same time, Song Shuci’s fingers also paused. He retracted his hand from Jian Wu’s button, looked away, and gestured with his chin at Jian Wu’s pocket: “Answer the phone first.”

The mechanism on the massage chair’s armrest had tightened again. Jian Wu bit his lip: “I can’t reach my phone.”

“If you don’t mind,” Song Shuci glanced at his waist and said politely, “I can get it for you?”

Jian Wu muttered in a low voice, “You just kissed me for so long, and now you’re pretending to be innocent?”

Song Shuci readily reached behind him and took the phone from his back pocket. Seeing the caller ID, Song Shuci frowned.

“It’s my mom,” he suggested, “Should I hang up?”

“…” Jian Wu said, “You answer it.”

Just as Song Shuci was about to answer, Jian Wu stopped him: “Wait.”

He calmed his breathing, cleared his throat, and looked at Song Shuci with a slightly guilty expression: “Is my voice okay now?”

Song Shuci nodded, and Jian Wu took a deep breath before letting him answer the call.

“Xiao Wu,” Xu Xiu’s voice came through the phone, “Are you free next Friday? Come over to our place if you are, like we agreed last time.”

Song Shuci held the phone to his ear, his fingertips occasionally brushing against his cheek. Jian Wu glared at him, and Song Shuci, thinking it was about the gathering, whispered: “It wasn’t me who suggested it.”

“Eh? Xiao Wu, is there someone there with you?” Xu Xiu heard a faint sound, “Sounds like Shuci?”

“No, no,” Jian Wu said hurriedly, “You misheard.”

“The gathering… next Friday… okay… alright… bye.”

Jian Wu’s current mental state wasn’t really suitable for long conversations. He quickly agreed and ended the call.

As soon as the call ended, Jian Wu felt the mechanism on his arm loosen. He quickly pulled his hands and legs out and got off the massage chair.

Song Shuci put his phone aside and, turning around, noticed Jian Wu buttoning his shirt. His expression changed slightly, then he looked at Jian Wu’s face: “I’ll pick you up next Friday?”

Jian Wu refused to meet his gaze: “No need.”

Song Shuci said: “There’s no such thing as letting someone go home alone right after confessing.”

Jian Wu clutched his collar, looked down at the floor, and said irritably: “What confession?”

Song Shuci followed his gaze, walked to his left, half-squatted down, and looked up into his eyes.

“About the question I just asked you…”

—Should we establish a relationship now?

“I think we should.”

He smiled: “What about you?”