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The night in Seoul was cold, the kind of cold that seeped through coats and made fingers tremble. Xiaojun pulled the hood of his jacket over part of his face as he stepped into the convenience store not far from his apartment. It was late, nearly midnight, and all he wanted was to grab something quick to eat before crawling into bed and trying to forget the weight of another day without him.
Eight months. Eight months since he and Hendery had ended things. The fight still echoed in his mind like a song he couldn’t stop hearing: Hendery talking about wanting to travel, explore the world, live untethered; Xiaojun insisting he needed stability, a home, something solid. Harsh words were exchanged, doors were slammed, and then… silence. Neither of them tried to fix it. Pride, maybe. Fear, definitely.
Xiaojun grabbed a pack of instant ramen from the shelf, his eyes scanning the label without really reading it. His still-cold fingers brushed the leather bracelet on his left wrist; a simple, hand-braided cord with a small wooden bead at its center. Hendery had made it for him on a lazy afternoon, laughing as he struggled with the knots. “It’s cheesy, but it’s yours,” he’d said, with that smile that made Xiaojun’s chest feel warm. Even after the breakup, Xiaojun never took the bracelet off. Throwing it away would feel like erasing what they’d had.
He was so lost in thought that he didn’t notice the figure entering the store until he heard a low, familiar laugh, chatting with the cashier. Xiaojun’s heart stopped. He knew that voice. He knew the way it lilted at the end, as if always on the verge of telling a joke. Slowly, he turned his head.
Hendery was there, just a few meters away, paying for a can of beer. He wore an oversized black hoodie, his now-longer hair falling messily over his forehead, and he looked… the same. The same, but different. Maybe a little thinner, the dark circles under his eyes more pronounced. Still, it was Hendery. The same Hendery who used to steal the blanket on cold nights, who sang silly songs in the shower, who made Xiaojun laugh until his stomach hurt.
Xiaojun should’ve looked away, pretended he hadn’t seen, left before it was too late. But his feet felt glued to the floor, and his traitorous eyes stayed fixed on him. As if sensing the weight of his gaze, Hendery turned his head. Their eyes met, and for a moment, the world stopped.
“Xiaojun?” Hendery’s voice came out hesitant, almost like he couldn’t believe what he was seeing.
Xiaojun swallowed hard, the ramen pack still in his hands. “Hendery,” was all he managed, his voice faint, almost drowned out by the hum of the store’s air conditioning.
Hendery took a step forward, the cashier forgotten, the beer can still in his hand. His eyes scanned Xiaojun from head to toe, as if trying to confirm he was real. Then, he saw the bracelet. Xiaojun noticed the exact moment Hendery spotted it. His eyes widened slightly, and his lips parted, as if he wanted to say something but didn’t know what.
“You… still wear that?” Hendery asked, pointing at Xiaojun’s wrist. His voice held a mix of surprise and something deeper, something that twisted Xiaojun’s stomach into knots.
“I…” Xiaojun hesitated, feeling his face heat up. He could lie, say it was an accident, that he forgot to take it off. But that wasn’t true. “Yeah. I still wear it.”
The silence that followed was deafening. Hendery seemed to wrestle with a thousand thoughts, his fingers gripping the beer can tighter. Xiaojun wanted to say something, anything, but the words were stuck in his throat. All he could think about was how much he missed that look, that presence.
“Why?” Hendery finally asked, his voice low, almost a whisper. “After everything… why do you still wear it?”
Xiaojun opened his mouth, but nothing came out. He didn’t know how to explain. How could he say that the bracelet was the only thing that made him feel like Hendery was still a part of him? That, even after months, he still dreamed of Hendery’s arms around him, his laughter, the way he made him feel whole?
“I don’t know,” Xiaojun mumbled, staring at the floor. “I just… couldn’t take it off.”
Hendery took another step forward, and now he was too close. Close enough for Xiaojun to catch the faint scent of his cologne, the same one he always wore. Close enough to see the small scar on his cheek, the one Xiaojun used to trace with his fingers on quiet nights.
“Xiao,” Hendery said, using the nickname he always saved for their most intimate moments. “Can we… talk? Not here. Somewhere more… ours.”
Xiaojun knew he should say no. Knew that opening that door again was dangerous, that it could hurt them both. But the longing was stronger. The emptiness of the past months was heavier. And Hendery’s voice, so familiar, so full of something that felt like hope, was impossible to ignore.
“Okay,” Xiaojun replied, almost without thinking. “Where?”
Hendery hesitated, as if he hadn’t expected Xiaojun to agree so quickly. Then, he gave a half-smile, the one that always made Xiaojun melt. “My place, or yours… whatever you prefer.”
Xiaojun’s heart raced. Hendery’s place. Or his. It was an invitation for more than just a conversation, and they both knew it. Still, he didn’t back down.
“My place,” Xiaojun said, his voice steady despite the nerves. “It’s closer.”
—
The walk to Xiaojun’s apartment was quiet, but the air between them crackled with electricity. They walked side by side, their shoulders almost brushing, but neither dared to break the invisible barrier separating them. Xiaojun clutched the ramen pack like an anchor, something to keep his hands busy and his mind focused on anything but Hendery beside him. Hendery, meanwhile, kept his hands in his pockets, the beer can swinging in a plastic bag, his eyes fixed on the ground as if afraid to look at Xiaojun for too long.
When they reached the building, the elevator felt too small to contain everything left unsaid. Xiaojun’s heart pounded, Hendery’s proximity almost suffocating. He still wore the same cologne, a mix of citrus and wood that Xiaojun associated with nights curled up on the couch, with slow kisses upon waking. The scent hit him like a punch, dragging up memories he’d tried to bury.
Inside the apartment, Xiaojun flicked on the light, revealing the small but cozy space. It was the same place where he and Hendery had spent so many nights together, laughing, fighting, loving. The dining table where they shared makeshift meals. The couch where Hendery insisted on lying with his head in Xiaojun’s lap while watching bad movies. Everything screamed his absence.
“Want… something to drink?” Xiaojun asked, more out of reflex than necessity, as he set the ramen on the kitchen counter.
“I brought this,” Hendery replied, holding up the beer can with a shy smile. “But… water’s fine.”
Xiaojun nodded, grabbing two glasses of water and trying to ignore how his hands trembled. They sat on the couch, but there was an awkward space between them, as if neither knew how to act. The silence was heavy, filled with months of pain and longing.
“So…” Hendery started, twirling the glass in his hands. “You doing okay?”
Xiaojun laughed, but it was a bitter, humorless sound. “Okay? I don’t know. You?”
Hendery hesitated, his eyes fixed on the glass. “Not really,” he admitted, his voice low. “I thought… you know, that it’d get easier with time. But it hasn’t.”
The words hit Xiaojun like an arrow. He wanted to pretend he was fine, that he’d moved on, but the truth was that every day without Hendery felt emptier than the last. He looked at the bracelet on his wrist, his fingers brushing the wooden bead instinctively.
“Why are you here, Hendery?” Xiaojun asked, more direct than he’d intended. “Why did you want to talk? After everything… why?”
Hendery lifted his gaze, and there was something raw, almost desperate, in his eyes. “Because I saw you wearing that,” he said, pointing at the bracelet. “I thought you’d thrown it away, that you’d erased me from your life. But you didn’t. And that… that gave me hope.”
“Hope?” Xiaojun repeated, his voice shaking. “Hope for what? That we can just forget everything? The fights, the things we said… you said I was holding you back, Hendery. That I was a burden.”
Hendery flinched, as if Xiaojun’s words were a physical blow. “I didn’t mean that,” he murmured, running his hands through his hair. “I was angry, Xiao. Angry at myself, at the pressure, at everything. But I never, never thought you were a burden. You were… you were everything.”
Xiaojun felt his eyes sting, but he refused to cry. “Then why didn’t you try to fix it? Why did you let me go?”
“Because I’m an idiot,” Hendery said, his voice breaking. He leaned forward, elbows on his knees, his face buried in his hands. “Because I thought you deserved someone better. Someone who wouldn’t make you choose between what you want and… and me.”
“I didn’t want to choose,” Xiaojun said, his voice softer now. “I just wanted you. But you made it feel like I wasn’t enough.”
Hendery lifted his head, his eyes shimmering with tears he wouldn’t let fall. “You were always more than enough,” he said, almost fiercely. “I was the problem, Xiao. I was lost, trying to prove something to myself, and I hurt you in the process. But not a day goes by that I don’t regret it.”
Xiaojun felt something inside him give way, like a dam about to break. He wanted to stay angry, to hold onto the hurt, but the truth was that he loved Hendery. Always had. And hearing those words, seeing the pain in his eyes, made the longing speak louder than the pride.
“Have you ever thought about me?” Xiaojun asked, his voice barely a whisper. “Really?”
Hendery laughed, a sound both sad and warm. “Do I think about you? Xiao, you’re in everything. In the songs I write, the places I go, the silence in my house. I see you in everything.”
And then, as if pulled by a greater force, Hendery reached out, hesitant, and touched the bracelet on Xiaojun’s wrist. His fingers were warm, and the touch, however light, made Xiaojun shiver. They stayed like that for a moment, eyes locked, breaths uneven.
“I miss you,” Hendery confessed, his voice hoarse. “Every day, Xiao. Every damn day.”
Xiaojun didn’t think. He just acted. He leaned forward, closing the distance between them, and his lips found Hendery’s in a kiss that was more need than choice. It was clumsy at first, full of urgency and longing, but it soon deepened into something almost painful. Hendery’s hands rose to Xiaojun’s face, holding him as if afraid he’d vanish. Xiaojun gripped Hendery’s shirt, pulling him closer, as if he could erase the months of absence with that single touch.
When they pulled apart, they were breathless, their faces inches apart. “Do you mean it?” Xiaojun asked, his voice trembling, but his eyes burning with desire.
“More than anything,” Hendery replied, and then he kissed him again, harder, hungrier.
When they pulled apart again, Xiaojun’s lips were swollen, his eyes gleaming with a mix of desire and hope. He looked at Hendery, really looked, and for the first time noticed the changes more clearly. Hendery’s hair was longer, falling in messy waves over his forehead, almost covering his eyes. He’d always had a slightly disheveled look, but now it seemed intentional, like he was trying to hide behind those strands. And he was thinner. Not drastically, but enough for Xiaojun to notice the sharper lines of his jaw, the way his shirt seemed a little too big on his shoulders. It was as if the past months had left visible marks, a reminder that Hendery had suffered too.
“You look different,” Xiaojun murmured, his voice hoarse, his fingers hesitantly reaching to touch a strand of Hendery’s hair. “Your hair… it’s longer. And you… you’re thinner.”
Hendery smiled, but it was a sad, almost broken smile. “Haven’t exactly been taking care of myself,” he admitted, his eyes locked on Xiaojun’s. “And you… Xiao, you’re…” He hesitated, as if searching for the right words. “You’re quieter. I don’t know. Your eyes… they’re heavier.”
Xiaojun felt a pang in his chest. He knew Hendery was right. The past months had been a struggle to keep up the facade that everything was fine, but the truth was that he missed Hendery in every corner of his life. His eyes, which used to shine so easily, now carried a weight he couldn’t hide. And there was something else. A small, almost imperceptible scar at the base of his neck, from a silly kitchen accident months ago. Hendery didn’t know about it, but Xiaojun wondered if he’d notice, if he still cared enough to see.
“I’m not the same,” Xiaojun said, his voice low. “You’re not either. But… you’re still you. Still the Hendery I…” He stopped, the words I love caught in his throat, too heavy to say so soon.
Hendery didn’t need to hear the rest. He leaned in again, but this time the kiss was slower, more deliberate, as if he was trying to memorize every detail of Xiaojun. His hands slid from Xiaojun’s face to his neck, and he paused, his fingers brushing the small scar. “This is new,” he murmured against Xiaojun’s lips, his voice full of concern. “What happened?”
“Just an accident,” Xiaojun replied, trying to sound casual, but Hendery’s touch was so gentle, so careful, that his eyes stung. “It’s nothing.”
“It was definitely something,” Hendery said, and then he kissed the scar, his lips warm against the sensitive skin. “I wish I’d been here. I wish… I could’ve taken care of you.”
The words broke something in Xiaojun. He pulled Hendery to him, his arms wrapping around his neck, and kissed him with a hunger he didn’t know he still carried. They leaned back, the couch no longer enough, and somehow between clumsy kisses and desperate touches, they stumbled to Xiaojun’s bedroom. The bed was still the same, with the dark blue sheets Hendery always said matched Xiaojun. The familiarity of the space only heightened the longing, as if every corner of the room screamed memories of them together.
Hendery gently pushed Xiaojun onto the bed, his dark eyes gleaming with a mix of desire and hesitation. He hovered above him, his arms braced on either side of Xiaojun’s head, his long hair falling over his forehead, nearly brushing Xiaojun’s skin. “Xiao,” he whispered, his voice hoarse, heavy with something that made Xiaojun’s heart race. “Are you sure? I don’t… I don’t want to hurt you again.”
Xiaojun looked at him, his entire body humming with the closeness, Hendery’s warmth so familiar yet devastatingly new. He reached up, his fingers tracing the line of Hendery’s jaw, feeling the faint roughness of unshaven stubble. “I want you,” he said, his voice steady but trembling with the intensity of what he felt. “I want to feel you again.”
That was all Hendery needed to hear. He leaned down, capturing Xiaojun’s lips in a kiss that was slow, almost reverent, but laced with a hunger that grew with every second. His hands found the hem of Xiaojun’s shirt, pulling it up with deliberate slowness, as if savoring every inch of skin revealed. When the shirt hit the floor, Hendery paused, his eyes roaming over Xiaojun’s torso with an adoration that made him shiver. “You’re so beautiful,” he murmured, his voice low, thick with raw desire. “How did I ever let you go?”
His fingers traced Xiaojun’s chest, brushing warm skin, lingering on the small scar at his neck before sliding to his waist, where the sensitivity made Xiaojun arch, a low moan escaping his lips. Hendery leaned down, his lips finding Xiaojun’s collarbone, nibbling gently before trailing kisses down his chest. He sucked the skin just above a nipple, his teeth grazing lightly, leaving a red mark that pulsed with the heat of the moment. “You’re mine,” Hendery whispered against his skin, his voice hoarse, almost possessive. “And I’m yours. Always will be.”
Xiaojun gripped Hendery’s shoulders, his nails digging in slightly as the pleasure began to build, hot and overwhelming. He pulled Hendery into another kiss, their lips crashing together with urgency, their tongues dancing in a rhythm both familiar and new. His hands slid to Hendery’s hoodie, yanking it off with a haste that betrayed his need. The fabric fell away, revealing Hendery’s leaner torso, his ribs faintly visible under bronzed skin. Xiaojun touched his chest, his fingers tracing the contours of his muscles, feeling Hendery’s heart racing beneath his palm. “You’re not taking care of yourself,” he said, his voice laced with concern and desire. “Promise you will.”
Hendery caught Xiaojun’s hand, kissing his palm with a tenderness that contrasted with the hunger in his eyes. “Only if you promise to stay with me to remind me,” he replied, his lips curving into a crooked smile before he leaned in for another kiss, deeper, more desperate. Their bodies pressed together, skin against skin, the heat between them almost unbearable.
The rest of their clothes came off with a certain urgency. Xiaojun unbuttoned Hendery’s jeans, his hands trembling as he pulled the fabric down, revealing strong thighs and the clear evidence of his desire. Hendery, in turn, removed Xiaojun’s pants with torturous slowness, his fingers brushing the insides of his thighs, his eyes never leaving Xiaojun’s. When they were finally bare, Hendery paused, his gaze fixed on Xiaojun as if he wanted to memorize every detail—the curve of his hips, the softness of his skin, the way his chest rose and fell with uneven breaths. “I dreamed of you,” he confessed, his voice low, as he leaned to kiss the inside of Xiaojun’s thigh, his stubble grazing sensitive skin, making him shudder. “Dreamed of your body, your scent, your sounds. Every night, Xiao.”
Xiaojun clutched the sheets, his body taut with anticipation, heat pooling in his core. “Then touch me,” he begged, his voice hoarse, almost broken. “Make me remember why I never forgot you.”
Hendery didn’t need more encouragement. His hands slid up Xiaojun’s thighs, his thumbs tracing circles on the skin before he leaned down to kiss him there, his mouth warm and deliberate. He started with soft, almost teasing kisses on the inner thighs, sucking the skin until he left small red marks that pulsed with heat. Xiaojun moaned, his head falling back, his fingers tangling in Hendery’s hair, now long enough to grip tightly. Hendery smiled against his skin, the sound of his low chuckle vibrating against Xiaojun before his mouth found his length. He started slowly, his tongue tracing long, deliberate lines, his eyes fixed on Xiaojun’s face, watching every moan, every reaction. “Always so sensitive,” Hendery murmured, his voice deep, before taking him deeper, his mouth hot and wet, enveloping him with a precision that made Xiaojun lose control.
“Hen…dery,” Xiaojun gasped, his hips moving instinctively, seeking more. Hendery held his thighs, his fingers firm, keeping him in place as he alternated between sucking hard and licking slowly, drawing out every sensation until Xiaojun was trembling, his moans loud in the room. He was so close to the edge, the pleasure almost unbearable, but Hendery stopped abruptly, climbing up to kiss him, the taste of Xiaojun still on his lips. “Not yet,” he whispered against Xiaojun’s swollen lips, his eyes gleaming. “I want all of you. I want to feel your heat, Xiao.”
Xiaojun moaned, pulling Hendery into another kiss, his hands exploring his body, feeling the tension in his muscles, the warmth of his skin. “Then give me that,” he said, his voice thick with desire. “I want you inside me. Now.”
Hendery grabbed the bottle of lube from the nightstand, the same one they used to use, still kept as a reminder of the past. He warmed the gel in his hands, his eyes never leaving Xiaojun’s as he began to prepare him. His fingers were gentle but firm, moving with torturous slowness as he watched every reaction: the sighs, the shudders, the way Xiaojun bit his lower lip to stifle moans. “You okay?” Hendery asked, his voice soft, his eyes full of care. Xiaojun nodded, his legs trembling, his body opening to him as Hendery worked. First one finger, then two, his movements precise, finding that spot that made Xiaojun arch and cry out his name.
“You’re so perfect,” Hendery murmured, kissing Xiaojun’s neck as his fingers moved, his other hand stroking Xiaojun’s length in a slow rhythm, keeping him on the edge without letting him cross it. “I missed you so much. Every curve, every sound, every piece of you.” He bit Xiaojun’s collarbone gently, sucking the skin until he left another mark, the desire in his eyes almost feral, yet tempered by a love that made every touch sacred.
Xiaojun was lost, the pleasure consuming him, Hendery’s words igniting something deep within. “Please,” he begged, his voice broken, his body trembling with need. “I want you now, Hen. I can’t wait anymore.”
Hendery withdrew his fingers, wiping his hands quickly before positioning himself. He aligned their bodies, his eyes meeting Xiaojun’s, and there was an almost unbearable intensity in that moment, as if the entire world had narrowed to just them. “I love you,” Hendery said, the words spilling out like a confession, raw and undeniable. “I haven’t stopped loving you for a single day.”
Xiaojun felt his chest tighten, tears threatening to fall, but he just pulled Hendery closer, his legs wrapping around his waist, his heels pressing into his back. “Then show me,” he whispered, his eyes shining with desire and love. “Show me it’s true.”
Hendery nodded, his face tight with emotion, and entered him slowly, inch by inch, both of them moaning in unison at the sensation. It was intense, almost overwhelming, the heat and pressure perfect, as if their bodies were made to fit like this. Hendery paused when he was fully inside, his muscles taut with the effort of holding back, his lips kissing Xiaojun’s face, neck, shoulders, whispering words of love and care. “You okay?” he asked, his voice trembling, his body shaking with the need to move.
“More than okay,” Xiaojun replied, his hands reaching to tug Hendery’s hair, his hips shifting slightly, a silent invitation. “You can move. I want to feel you.”
Hendery began to move, his thrusts slow and deep at first, each one pulling low moans from Xiaojun. He held Xiaojun’s thighs, keeping them spread, his thumbs brushing sensitive skin as his eyes stayed fixed on Xiaojun’s face, drinking in every expression of pleasure. Xiaojun clung to Hendery’s shoulders, his nails digging into skin, marking him as their bodies found a rhythm. Slow at first, but growing more urgent.
Hendery’s movements intensified, his hips snapping against Xiaojun’s with a force that made the bed creak, the sounds of their bodies mingling with the moans and gasps filling the room. Hendery alternated between deep kisses, their tongues tangling, and light bites on Xiaojun’s neck, his teeth leaving marks that pulsed with heat. His hand slid down, wrapping around Xiaojun’s length, stroking in sync with his thrusts, the rhythm sometimes fast, sometimes torturously slow, as if he wanted to prolong every second. “Tell me you feel the same as I do,” Hendery pleaded, his voice hoarse, his eyes shining with a mix of passion and vulnerability. “Tell me there’s still hope.”
“I feel it,” Xiaojun gasped, his eyes half-lidded, the pleasure pushing him to the edge. “There’s always hope, Hen. I love you… I love you so much.”
The words seemed to ignite Hendery. He quickened his pace, his hips moving with an urgency that was both passion and desperation, each thrust deeper, more possessive. Xiaojun arched into him, meeting every movement, his moans turning to muffled cries as the pleasure consumed him. Hendery shifted, changing the angle, hitting that spot inside Xiaojun that made him shudder violently, his eyes rolling back in ecstasy. “Hen… please,” Xiaojun begged, his hands tugging Hendery’s hair, his body trembling. “Don’t stop… don’t stop.”
“I won’t stop,” Hendery promised, his voice low, almost a growl. He gripped Xiaojun’s hips, lifting them slightly to go even deeper, his movements now relentless yet filled with a tenderness that made it all the more intense. He leaned down, kissing Xiaojun with a hunger that seemed to want to devour him, their lips swollen, his teeth grazing Xiaojun’s lower lip. His hand continued working Xiaojun’s length, his fingers tightening with just the right pressure, pushing him closer and closer to the edge.
The pleasure built, hot and overwhelming, until Xiaojun couldn’t hold on any longer. He came with a hoarse cry, Hendery’s name spilling from his lips as his body shook, the pleasure crashing over him in waves that seemed endless. The tightening of Xiaojun around him was what pushed Hendery over the edge. He groaned, a deep, guttural sound, as he gave in, his hips shuddering with the force of his own release, his body collapsing against Xiaojun’s, both of them panting, sweaty, completely entwined.
For a moment, they just lay there, their hearts racing, their breaths ragged. The room was wrapped in a soft silence, broken only by the sound of their uneven breathing. Their bodies remained tangled, their warm, sweaty skin pressed together, the echo of pleasure still pulsing between them. Hendery lay atop Xiaojun, his face nestled in the curve of his neck. Xiaojun traced slow circles on Hendery’s back, his fingers feeling the faint marks his nails had left, his heart pounding with a mix of relief and fear. Relief at having him there, fear that this might be just a fleeting moment.
Slowly, Hendery lifted his head, his brown eyes meeting Xiaojun’s. There was an intensity in them, a vulnerability that seemed to bare his soul. He reached out, his fingers tracing the line of Xiaojun’s jaw, as if needing to confirm he was real. “Xiao,” he whispered, his voice hoarse, heavy with the pain the months apart had carved into him. “I spent all this time trying to convince myself I could leave you behind, that you’d be better off without me. But every day felt like… like I’d lost the best part of me. You’re what makes me whole, and I was a coward for not fighting for it.”
Xiaojun felt his chest tighten, Hendery’s words echoing the emptiness he’d carried since the breakup. He raised his hand, his fingers sliding through Hendery’s now-longer, sweat-damp hair, and down to his nape, where he could feel the warmth of his skin. “You think I moved on?” Xiaojun asked, his voice trembling, his eyes shimmering with tears he fought to hold back. “I wore this bracelet like it was an anchor, like it could hold me together while everything fell apart. You’re in everything I do, in every corner of this apartment. I love you so much that I hated you for leaving me, but… but I could never erase you.”
Hendery closed his eyes for a moment, as if he needed to absorb Xiaojun’s confession. When he opened them, there was a fierce determination in them, mixed with a love that seemed unbreakable. He leaned in, his lips brushing Xiaojun’s in a kiss that was more a vow than a gesture. “I don’t deserve you,” he murmured, his voice nearly breaking. “But I’ll spend every day of my life trying to.”
Xiaojun felt the tears slip free, silent, tracing warm paths down his temples. He cupped Hendery’s face with both hands, his thumbs stroking his soft skin. “Then promise me you’ll stay,” he said, his voice steady despite the emotion. “I don’t want just words, Hen. I want you. With your insecurities, your crazy plans, your everything. But you have to choose this, choose us, even when it’s hard.”
Hendery smiled, a small smile, but so full of hope it seemed to warm the room. He pressed his forehead to Xiaojun’s, their noses touching, their breaths mingling. “I choose you,” he said, the words heavy with absolute certainty. “I choose us, Xiao. And I’ll fight for this, for us, until there’s nothing left in me to give.”
For a moment, they stayed like that, wrapped in each other, their bodies pressed close, the silence now a refuge where they could find one another. Then, Hendery lifted his head, a mischievous glint crossing his eyes, a light contrast to the intensity of moments before. “But, you know,” he said, his voice taking on a playful tone, “before I start this epic battle for your heart, I think I need to clean you up first. You’re a complete mess, and I’m definitely to blame for that.” He chuckled, the crooked smile that always made Xiaojun want to roll his eyes and hug him at the same time.
Xiaojun laughed, the sound light and genuine, like a breeze after a storm. He gave Hendery’s shoulder a playful shove, feigning indignation. “Look who’s talking, Mr. ‘I haven’t taken care of myself in months.’ If you’re gonna clean me up, you’ll have to carry me to the shower, because my legs are not working after that.”
Hendery laughed loudly, the sound filling the room, and leaned in to nip playfully at Xiaojun’s earlobe. “Challenge accepted,” he said, a grin spreading across his face.
They laughed together, the sound blending with the warmth of the moment, and for an instant, the weight of the past months seemed to dissolve, leaving only the certainty of a new beginning. Messy and imperfect, but theirs.