Ten minutes later, Xu Miao’s car drove out of the parking lot.
The temperature inside the car was just right, the music was soothing and pleasant, and the person he loved was close by. Xie Ge hummed along with the car’s audio, openly radiating his happiness to Xu Miao.
When they neared home, Xu Miao stopped the car by the roadside. Xie Ge turned his head to look at Xu Miao inquisitively, as if asking why he had stopped.
“Buying something,” Xu Miao said.
“What?” Xie Ge asked.
Xu Miao didn’t answer immediately. He stared at Xie Ge’s curious eyes for a moment, then couldn’t help squinting his eyes slightly in a smile, and silently mouthed a few words.
He spoke deliberately slowly, and Xie Ge’s attention shifted from Xu Miao’s fluttering eyelashes to his moving lips. Xie Ge immediately understood the words, and a few seconds later, Xu Miao saw Xie Ge’s face flush all the way down to his neck.
Like a perfectly ripe persimmon.
Xu Miao was very satisfied with Xie Ge’s reaction, yet he still pretended to be hesitant, saying in a mock regretful tone, “You don’t want it? If not, I won’t buy it.”
“Buy it,” Xie Ge said immediately, afraid Xu Miao might change his mind. “Buy it! I don’t not want it. Buy it, Xu Miao, buy it, buy it, buy it!”
Xie Ge became a repeat machine again, saying it over and over, afraid his hesitation would sway Xu Miao’s decision.
In those few seconds, he shouldn’t have been silent. He should have nodded. When Xu Miao mouthed those few words, he should have nodded immediately and wholeheartedly.
“Never mind then, I won’t force it,” Xu Miao said.
He didn’t wait for Xie Ge to respond, and restarted the car.
For the rest of the journey, Xie Ge didn’t hum along. The red in his face gradually faded, the flush on his neck disappeared as well, and he returned to his usual self.
He kept his head down, looking listless, no longer happy.
When he got out of the car, Xie Ge felt a chill. Perhaps the wind was strong tonight, or perhaps his heart just happened to have a little hole in it.
Even while going upstairs, Xie Ge was still mad at himself, blaming himself for missing the chance, watching it slip away, failing even to hold onto it.
But Xu Miao kissed him. They hadn’t even changed their shoes yet, just closed the door.
Xu Miao kissed him lightly, the same soft kiss as in the car a while ago, nose brushing against his skin, lips soft against his own. Xie Ge smelled the same sweet, soft scent as on the shirt of Xu Miao he had taken with him, stirring desire.
Their shoes were piled messily at the entryway, coats dropped on the floor, and with a flurry of steps, they collapsed onto the sofa together.
Xie Ge pressed down on Xu Miao like a giant, thick, oversized sofa pillow. Perhaps the little hole in his heart had been mended by Xu Miao, because he no longer felt cold; his skin grew warm, even a little hot.
They kissed again under each other’s focused, tender gaze.
This kiss was different from the previous two—wetter, deeper, more intimate.
Xu Miao wrapped his arms around Xie Ge’s neck, wrists crossed behind the back of his neck. At inappropriate moments, he would still think Xie Ge had an innocent cuteness, even though what they were doing now was anything but innocent.
They shared a long, wet kiss.
Xu Miao slid his hand inside Xie Ge’s shirt, teasingly brushing against his lower stomach, only to have Xie Ge grip his wrist tightly, leaving it immobilized.
Xie Ge’s voice was muffled and low: “What if we don’t buy it?”
Xu Miao whispered: “Then we can do it inside today.”
……
In the early hours of the morning, after everything had ended, Xu Miao was held tightly in Xie Ge’s arms like a giant stuffed toy—warm, but not free; some parts of his body even felt sore and achy.
He escaped from Xie Ge’s embrace, bent down, and fished a cigarette from the coffee table drawer, lighting it.
The orange-red spark flickered in the dim room. Xu Miao only took one puff before two strong arms wrapped around his waist.
Xie Ge held him tightly from behind, his cheek pressed tenderly against Xu Miao’s shoulder, and whispered into his ear: “They say you only smoke afterward if you weren’t satisfied, to heighten the feeling. Am I really that bad?”
Xie Ge’s voice was low, a little hoarse, and Xu Miao even detected a hint of grievance and hurt.
The hand holding the cigarette froze in place. Time passed until the smoke nearly burned itself out before Xu Miao asked, “Who says that?”
“Everyone online,” Xie Ge admitted honestly. “I’ve been learning a lot lately. I don’t want you to be dissatisfied. After all, the first time, you weren’t satisfied—you left me while I was asleep and didn’t want to take responsibility at all.”
He couldn’t help but confirm with Xu Miao: “We’ll get married, right? I’ll improve. I won’t make you wait too long.”
Xu Miao often felt like he and Xie Ge were using entirely different networks; the answers Xie Ge found were always negative, wrong, and never aligned with Xu Miao’s intentions, so Xu Miao constantly had to correct him.
He explained the reason for smoking again and, on a whim, tried to tempt Xie Ge into trying it—but Xie Ge refused.
Xu Miao didn’t push it. He prepared to finish the remaining cigarette, but before it even touched his lips, Xie Ge stopped him, looking at him imploringly: “Please, quit smoking, okay?”
Seeing Xu Miao silent, Xie Ge compromised: “Or at least only smoke in front of me, not in front of others.”
Still no reply. Xie Ge tried again: “Then don’t share it with anyone halfway through, okay? I don’t think that’s very hygienic.”
A long silence followed. Finally, the last spark at the end of the cigarette died out completely.
Xu Miao guessed Xie Ge was hinting that he didn’t like something Xu Miao had just done. He tossed the rejected cigarette into the trash, expression subtle: “Even you, who’s worse about hygiene, have tried it. And now you’re complaining about my saliva?”
Xie Ge flushed red, immediately saying: “I’m not like anyone else.”
He sounded very upset: “I answered your call at noon.”
A sentence without context, but Xu Miao understood. He turned his face toward Xie Ge: “So that’s why you suddenly sent me money?”
“I definitely have more money than him,” Xie Ge said. “But why don’t you want my money?”
“What would I want your money for?”
“Afraid you’ll turn bad,” Xie Ge said, then quickly corrected himself, “Afraid I’ll turn bad. Didn’t you say it before? That men go bad when they have money—you need to watch me so I don’t go bad.”
Xie Ge added at the end: “I’ll also make sure you don’t turn bad.”
Author note:
“Hetang Tangtang
What to buy… so hard to guess.”
