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Zheng Bei doesn’t really get the appeal of this type of music, some repetitive base-heavy stuff that reverberates through the club. And it’s loud. He lets it wash past him as he stands around one of the tall, chair-less tables lining the edges of the room, and turns his attention back to watching the patterns of interaction. A young man pestering a pretty girl with a bow in her hair, a group of women giggling and ordering cocktails enthusiastically. He’s seen a couple of small time pushers he recognizes, but that’s not what they’re after. So far, it’s nothing out of the ordinary for a Saturday night in a place like this.
Gu Yiran is on the other side of the room, in a corduroy jacket that makes him look a little bit like a country boy. He doesn’t often come along to undercover work these days, but he’d been determined to join this time. Something in the lab reports had been strange, apparently, and he wanted to come check things out for himself.
Of course he’s careful not to be too obvious about it, but Zheng Bei takes a chance to observe him as he scans across the room. Lately, their relationship has been a little… strained. In his mind he’s cycled through it again and again, but he can’t identify any clear point of falling out - after everything settled in the last case, when Zheng Bei got out of the hospital, for a while things between them had been better than ever. At home, at work, they seemed to understand each other seamlessly. When Gu Yiran fussed over his injuries, it didn’t make him feel awkward and useless in the way that everyone else’s fussing sometimes did.
Zheng Bei had even gone to Huazhou with him, to bury Gu Yiran’s father. Letting Gu Yiran lead him around, hearing him speak Cantonese in the markets, the restaurants, with the taxi drivers, seeing how comfortable and at home he was, had struck something in Zheng Bei. All the more sharply during the burial itself, and as Zheng Bei saw Gu Yiran in that apartment, with his family photos on the walls.
He was acutely aware that Gu Yiran could reasonably choose at any moment to return to Huazhou. Of how much he’d given up to be in Halan - Zheng Bei can’t quite imagine himself moving to the south, exchanging everything and everyone he knows for a city that feels so unfamiliar. He has tried to tell himself that Gu Yiran has every right to live where he wants. But when he thinks of Gu Yiran leaving Halan for good, the scar on his stomach aches.
He has already shown Gu Yiran all his favorite places in Halan: the night market, the chicken restaurant, his usual beer halls, the riverside, his own home… But maybe he hadn’t been thinking about this in the right way. He needed to regroup, recalibrate. He needs to take this seriously.
On an ordinary Friday, after he’d implemented the investigative phase of his plan, he offered to go with Gu Yiran on his run.
“What’s gotten into you?” Gu Yiran said as they laced up their shoes. It could sound a bit rude to someone who didn’t know him, but Zheng Bei had laughed. “You hate running.”
“Well, I’m in the mood today. Is that all right?”
Gu Yiran shrugged, and didn’t protest further.
They started out on Gu Yiran’s usual route, but a few minutes in, Zheng Bei tapped him on the arm. “Let’s go this way,” he said, and turned them down a little alley. The alley itself was just a cramped space with a couple broken down bicycles half-blocking the way, but it backed out on to a road that connected just a short way further to a tree-lined stream, hidden behind some apartment blocks. Gu Yiran seemed to be going slower than his usual pace, since Zheng Bei had still not fully recovered to his old condition, and he didn’t say much - Zheng Bei couldn’t really muster the breath to converse, anyway. They slowed to a stop near a small bridge arching over the water.
“I didn’t know this was here,” Gu Yiran said, looking down at the water, the rocks. There was a bench nearby; it was a little shabby and peeling, but still. It maybe wasn’t the same type of scenic as whatever he was used to down south, but Zheng Bei felt a burst of pride anyway, shot through with anxiety. It is nice here, he’d thought. Surely Gu Yiran will like it.
They’d stood there for a while as Zheng Bei caught his breath. “I hadn’t been here either,” he admitted. “Aunt Wang told me about it. She said the teenagers like to come here and romance each other.” He laughed as he said it, but Gu Yiran looked at him then with something almost like astonishment; more than was warranted, in Zheng Bei’s mind. “You shouldn’t have any trouble with that, though,” Zheng Bei reassured him. “I doubt anyone will be here in the mornings.”
A week or so later he’d deployed his second strategy. After a debriefing and coordination meeting in another district, he offered to drive them both back home. Some of his promotion money had paid for a cheap used sedan, so they weren’t even in the chicken van. When he missed the turn onto the main road, Gu Yiran noticed instantly.
“That was the road back there,” he said.
“I know. But we have to make a stop first.”
“Where? Is this police business?”
Zheng Bei cut his eyes over to him just for a second. Nannan had recently trimmed his hair, and he looked neat and stylish in his light coat.
“Do you have somewhere to be?”
In his peripheral vision Gu Yiran frowned like he wanted to argue further, then sighed, stopped.
They pulled up a few minutes later to an unassuming but brightly lit restaurant. Zheng Bei’s searching had paid off with this place, recently opened by some transplants to the north from Zhuhai. He’d even called ahead to reserve a table and tell the owners he was bringing a real southerner along.
The food was good, though Zheng Bei isn't the best judge - he’ll eat anything, but at heart, he’s a simple guy who prefers the Dongbei food he was raised on. Of course, Zhuhai isn’t Huazhou. Even he, not very familiar with Guangdong food, could tell it was a little different from what they had there. But they ordered a lot, and Gu Yiran ate everything with gusto, even more so than usual. Toward the end of the meal the owners, a couple in their fifties, came out to greet them. Zheng Bei let himself fade into the background as they fussed over Gu Yiran, the three of them comparing notes about familiar places in the south, where they had relatives, life in Halan. They slipped him an extra order of char siu bao in the to-go box, for which Gu Yiran thanked them profusely.
“Are you planning to stay in Halan?” the wife asked warmly.
Zheng Bei couldn’t help his ears pricking up, but he tried to maintain a neutral, pleasant expression. Gu Yiran had smiled his glasslike smile. “I think so. We’ll see.”
What was there still to see about? Zheng Bei dug peevishly with his chopsticks into his bowl, tried to disguise it.
“Who knows? Maybe you’ll meet a northern girl. You might end up staying longer than you think!” The husband laughed too, and the couple smiled at each other. Out of the corner of his eye Zheng Bei checked Gu Yiran’s reaction; it hadn’t changed, still the same impenetrable expression.
But other than that brief moment, he’d thought the evening a great success. Before they went to sleep that night, Zheng Bei had asked, trying to make light of his real concern, “What did you think? Decent enough for up here?”
Gu Yiran was preparing his running clothes for the next morning, folding them neatly on a chair. He didn’t turn around, but he said, “It was great. I really liked it.”
Zheng Bei smiled, relieved, and clapped him on the shoulder. “It’s not that far from here. I can take you there any time. Just say the word.” His hand squeezed Gu Yiran’s arm, and Gu Yiran started to turn toward him then, but something seemed to stop him.
When he thinks about it, it was around then that things started to change, but he still can’t figure out what exactly went wrong. Maybe Gu Yiran has just had enough of Zheng Bei - living together, working together, and then Zheng Bei monopolizing his free time… maybe that’s it, maybe he’s been too suffocating. Whatever the cause, the effect is undeniable. These days Gu Yiran leaves the house before Zheng Bei and goes straight to work from his morning run. He finds excuses to be out of the house in the evening - he’s practically taken over doing errands for Ma and Ba, or he helps in the restaurant, or he goes with Nannan to interface with Xiaoguang’s doctors. They live together, but he never sees Gu Yiran alone. Just yesterday Gu Yiran had come home and seemed surprised to find Zheng Bei there.
“I thought you were working late,” he’d said from across the room.
“I was, but the chief sent me home. A team from the inter-city task force is leading a raid on the storage site tomorrow, the chief said we’d better save our energy for the aftermath.”
Gu Yiran shifted from foot to foot. He hadn’t even taken his shoes off yet, still standing by the door.
Zheng Bei, noticing, had offered, a strange wave of apprehension and hope tangling in his heart but trying to be casual about it, “Should we watch that Andy Lau film tonight? Nannan has it out on rental. She already watched it with Xiaoguang, she said it’s good.”
“I can’t, sorry,” Gu Yiran said, slowly, like he was finding the words as he went along. “I… just came to drop off my bag. I promised to … help Guozhu study for that licensing exam. And then we’ll probably eat something after. So don’t wait up for me.”
He didn’t even really enter the apartment. He just deposited his work bag by the doorway and then Zheng Bei was left looking after him, the door closing in on the empty room.
It’s kind of an insult to his intelligence, is what it is. Like Zheng Bei can’t tell that’s an excuse? Since when has Gu Yiran even been close with Guozhu?
Maybe he should encourage Gu Yiran to be close to Guozhu. If it makes him like Halan better, as long as it gets him to stay. Maybe he should help Gu Yiran meet a northern girl.
He realizes he’s clenching his jaw, and his back is hurting again. He tries to make a conscious effort to relax his muscles, but he can’t completely manage it.
Zheng Bei had tried to talk to him about it, once. He’d finally managed to catch him in a spare moment, when they were both heading home from work, and Zheng Bei had convinced Gu Yiran to let him drive.
Faced with this golden opportunity, he’d initially been at a loss to take advantage of it. When he tried to mold a question he couldn’t quite piece together what he actually even wanted to know. He realized he felt sort of hurt, and angry, and his pride was hurt; and it was hard to separate out what parts of that were due to Gu Yiran and what was him being selfish, childish, afraid.
Finally he cast out with, “Ma and Ba were asking if you'll be at the restaurant for dinner this Friday. Ba wants to braise some pork.”
Gu Yiran’s head turned toward him away from the window, but not completely. “I think so. I’ll see.”
“You’ve been busy lately.”
“Yes,” Gu Yiran said, something a little defensive creeping into his tone. “Other departments have been asking me for help with testing. I’m going to lead a training session on new detection methods next month.”
Zheng Bei hadn’t known about that. Why hadn’t he known? “Oh? When is it?”
“The eighth. They’re bringing in lab leaders from different parts of the province for it.”
“The eighth? We were going to look around that housing development where all those Club Cosmo guys live and see if they’re really making drugs in the basement. You’re going to abandon us?” His tone was light, but he said it before he fully thought it through, and he regretted it immediately when Gu Yiran’s manner slammed shut.
“It’s an important opportunity to improve anti-narcotics work in the region, and for our unit to take a leadership role.”
“I… right.”
“But sorry if I’m inconveniencing you,” Gu Yiran said stiffly, and neither of them said anything else until they got out of the car.
None of that was what he’d really wanted to say. But something held him back, is still holding him back, from trying again. He doesn’t want to tread where he’s not wanted. He wants Gu Yiran to want to talk to him.
And in the meantime the weight of his life never lets up. He’s the captain of an anti-narcotics unit now, and he’s proud of his role and the work he does. But that comes with more responsibility, more pressure, more blame than ever before. Sometimes it feels like some part of him has regressed since what happened with Jiang Xiaohai. He feels less in control of himself, more on edge. He doesn’t sleep as solidly as he used to, and his back aches when he wakes up, even after a relatively good night. Last week he’d fallen asleep at the station without meaning to. On his desk when he awoke had been the completed inventory and requisitions paperwork he’d been in the middle of doing, and all of it in Gu Yiran’s small neat handwriting. But he’s still never home.
Thinking about it gets him frustrated all over again. Heavens, it’s getting hot in this room. He ducks out of the main hall towards the bathrooms, making sure to walk past Gu Yiran on his way so he knows Zheng Bei’s gone. As he comes back out of the toilets, a partygoer in a big sweater and large sunglasses bumps right into him. Zheng Bei puts out a hand to steady them both, but the man just disappears into the crowd without a word.
That was a little weird; he keeps an eye out for the person as he takes up his post again, pretending to nurse the same glass of seltzer water he’s had all night. Still nothing much is happening. Some sleazy guys in cheap suits are gathered in a corner, but Gu Yiran has a better vantage point to see if they’re actually up to something; he’ll alert Zheng Bei if needed.
Maybe this music isn’t that bad, actually. As he stands there longer, he can kind of see the appeal of it - it’s repetitive, but it’s getting under his skin a bit. He leans against the wall, nodding his head along.
He hasn’t seen Yaoyao in a while. He trusts her, but it would be good to check in, see if someone on their team is actually making any progress. As he takes a step away from the wall he sways on his feet. At first he thinks it’s just him - sometimes his balance is a little off these days. He tries to focus his attention, take stock. He feels… good.
Suspiciously good. His body feels lighter than it has in ages, he doesn’t ache anywhere. That’s what really triggers his self-preservation instinct.
He manages to get out of the room again, and as he passes he gives Gu Yiran the signal to meet him outside; he can only hope he was being subtle enough. Gu Yiran meets him in a stairwell, a question in his eyes.
“I think someone slipped me something,” he says under his breath as soon as he’s sure they’re alone. “I don’t know how, I didn’t see it happen, but I’m starting to feel it. You better take me out of here.”
Gu Yiran’s eyes go very wide. “Do you know what it was? Are you all right?”
“Might be ecstasy - the effects line up. I’m okay. Honestly, I feel good.”
This does not seem to reassure Gu Yiran at all. “Any idea who did it?”
Zheng Bei shakes his head. Then reconsiders. “Someone bumped into me by the bathroom. I don’t know how he would have… but maybe it was then.”
“Do you think he was targeting you?”
“I don’t know, he didn’t say anything. It might not have been him. I didn’t get a good look at him - he was wearing sunglasses, a big sweater. A man, short hair, maybe a meter seventy.”
Gu Yiran nods, his focus turning inward. “I’ll get the others to search the place.” He is very obviously reluctant to leave him on his own, but Zheng Bei pats his arm.
“I’ll be okay. I’ll go sit in the car and wait for you.” It’s better if they don’t leave together anyway, and Gu Yiran will need some time to tell Yaoyao and Guozhu.
They’d taken the sedan to the club, so he lets himself in and lays down across the backseat. He’d thought maybe he could sleep it off, but he doesn’t feel very tired. He feels restless, itching to take some action. He told Gu Yiran he would wait… but wouldn’t it be better for him to go help them? He should be with his team, he’s the captain. And it’s boring in here. He’s about thirty seconds away from going back in to look for them all when Gu Yiran rushes out and practically slams himself into the driver’s seat.
“Did you find him?”
“Not yet. Xueyao and Guozhu will stay behind and look around.”
“We should go help them.” Gu Yiran gives him an incredulous look at that. “I feel fine! Really.” This is not met with any further response. As they drive off, Gu Yiran’s hands are tight around the steering wheel; his back ramrod straight. “We’ll get you to a doctor in no time,” he says. “MDMA has a low chance of overdose. It is not usually addictive.”
He sounds like he’s giving them a lecture at the office. He really shouldn't be so tense. Zheng Bei’s vision may be starting to blur around the edges, but he feels wonderful, better than he has in weeks. He doesn't need to see a doctor. They should just keep driving around, this is great. He says as much to a Gu Yiran who is not receptive to his ideas.
The hospital is not as fun as the club. He zones out while Gu Yiran speaks to the doctor. He has to get his blood drawn for various tests; it’s boring, and it almost lets in a wave of fear and memory, which luckily can’t quite break through the shining golden netting that surrounds his mind and mood. It’s hard to say how long it all takes. While they sit there Gu Yiran calls the chief to report the incident, and then calls Yaoyao for an update. She declines the call and sends a text message back instead which reads only, still looking. When he’s not on the phone, Gu Yiran alternates between staring at the door where the doctor disappeared through and looking over at Zheng Bei like he’s waiting for him to either freak out or drop dead.
So it’s a relief and a happiness when the door opens again to admit the doctor. He’s a young guy, around their age maybe, but so timid that he seems younger. He addresses himself to Gu Yiran, but keeps glancing toward Zheng Bei like he’s not really sure who he should be talking to. “We’ve confirmed the patient has ecstasy in his system. It’s a normal dosage, so the risks of a negative reaction aren’t very high. Just make sure he doesn’t get too warm, and that he drinks plenty of fluids.”
Gu Yiran’s brow creases. “You’re sending him home? He’s been drugged.”
“Yes, but there’s not much we can do except wait for it to leave his system, and monitor and keep him comfortable in the meantime.”
This clearly isn’t convincing Gu Yiran. “You can’t guarantee that he won’t have a reaction.”
“No, but the chances are quite low, and I’m sure an officer like yourself can be trusted to look after him and to get medical attention if necessary.” The doctor shifts from foot to foot. “I’m sorry, officers, it’s just that we were already busy, and there was a bus crash twenty minutes ago, so I’m afraid we are about to need all the beds we can get.”
So it seems like they’re being discharged.
“Good, let’s go,” Zheng Bei agrees, pleased. This time he slides himself into the passenger seat in front. He’s kind of excited - it’s a beautiful night, the air just starting to get crisp. Usually he’s the one doing the driving; now he can just sit here and take it all in. The buildings glimmer in the nighttime, even the run-down ones. The city is actually kind of beautiful, when you really look at it. Has it always been like this?
And it’s good to be doing something together again, just the two of them. When he thinks of it like that, the drive home seems too short. “Hey,” he says, as they’re getting close to a bridge. “Hey. Pull over here. Drive down to the river. Hey!” Gu Yiran looks over at him like he’s crazy, but it’s such a nice night, it would be crazy not to. “Ran-ge. Let’s not go home yet. Come on,” he pulls lightly at Gu Yiran’s sleeve. “Drive down there. Please.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Let’s just sit there for a while. Ran-ge. Do you want my parents to see me like this?”
He can’t explain how giddy he feels when, against all odds, Gu Yiran actually does it. They park on the riverbank. The way the light moves across the water is entrancing. He just stares at it for a long time. He feels calm, but also like he wants something he doesn’t have, something big and far and strange, maybe too big for him.
When his head turns, Gu Yiran is right there, at his side, where he should be. The light passing across his face is even more fascinating than on the water. The corduroy jacket might look silly on someone else, but when you look at it, actually, it suits him so well. Gu Yiran ought to know it, right?
“You look handsome,” is what comes out of his mouth. No mention of the jacket at all.
Zheng Bei lets his head drop onto Gu Yiran’s shoulder, and Gu Yiran starts. But he doesn’t push him away. Finally.
“Don't go back,” he says into Gu Yiran’s jacket.
“…to the apartment? You mean, you want to go back to the hospital?”
Nooo. He frowns, though Gu Yiran can’t see it. “Don’t go back to…” A superstitious part of him fears that even saying its name will make Gu Yiran remember how he preferred Huazhou to here, like a magic word waking him up from a spell.
But he can’t shut up. “Halan is not that bad, right? Couldn’t you be happy here?”
Gu Yiran’s silence could be confusion or denial. Zheng Bei thinks of the Zhuhai restaurant, about what kinds of things could keep him in the north. “And don’t get married,” he adds.
The body under his forehead is very still. “What?”
“Don’t meet any woman. Don’t get married.” Zheng Bei presses on. “We should stay together, right? Don't go back. We should get old together, right?”
“Zheng Bei,” Gu Yiran says.
There's something in his voice, but Zheng Bei’s mind is far too hot and full to trace it. His heart is pounding oddly; that floating feeling has begun to shade into nausea. He winds a hand into the fabric of Gu Yiran’s jacket. “I don't know what I did to make you tired of me.” His eyes feel very heavy, so he lets them fall shut. “If you tell me, I’ll fix it. I’m just worried…”
From this position he can feel Gu Yiran draw in a deep, unsteady breath. “About what?”
He shakes his head. It swings back and forth more violently than he meant it to. He’s just worried that he won’t be able to fix it. That he’ll fail. Again. That this failure and his failures before are one and the same - that Gu Yiran has seen him, to the heart of him, and found him lacking. And maybe he’s right to think so.
But right now he can’t quite convince himself not to be selfish. He picks up Gu Yiran’s hand. It feels so nice in his, just like the feeling of watching the water had been.
“I’m not planning to leave the north,” Gu Yiran says, in the tone of someone feeling their way across ice. “I’m not going to get married.”
“Good.” Zheng Bei tightens his grip, like that alone could keep him here. He should get out of the car, really plant his feet in the ground, and hold on. “Good. You have to stay.”
Waking up is a gradual process. He slowly becomes aware, before anything else, that he’s desperately thirsty. He almost feels around for the thermos he usually keeps nearby, but then his mind actually flicks on and he… remembers.
He doesn’t remember getting back to the apartment, but unfortunately he does remember everything else. It’s embarrassing enough that he got drugged. He’s supposed to be the team leader and he’s getting incapacitated like this, needing to be looked after all night, ruining the mission? He’s probably going to get a reprimand when he’s back at the office, and he’ll deserve it.
But why had he said all that stuff to Gu Yiran? If he didn’t think Zheng Bei was suffocating before, he must certainly think so now. His stomach is strange, uneasy, and he can’t completely be sure it’s an aftereffect of the drug.
He lies there for a while running over every foolish thing he remembers falling out of his mouth. Why would he actually say anything about Gu Yiran being tired of him? Why would he ask Gu Yiran not to get married? Zheng Bei had hardly been in a rational state; Gu Yiran had surely just thought it wise to placate him by saying that he wouldn’t. It must have made him so uncomfortable.
Pretending to still be asleep will only last him so long, though. He can hear Gu Yiran quietly moving around in the other room. He musters up enough face to make it known that he’s awake; he takes that drink of water, tries to sit up fully, regrets it.
From the other room the sounds of movement stop. Gu Yiran must have heard him. Zheng Bei grits his teeth and successfully levers himself into sitting up this time, just before Gu Yiran emerges through the bead curtain.
He doesn’t come very close; he just sort of hovers near the opposite wall. “How do you feel?” he asks, tentative.
“I’ll be okay,” he says, brushing a hand roughly across his hair. Is there any point in lying? Gu Yiran knows more about drugs than any of them, so he probably already is aware of exactly what’s happening in Zheng Bei’s aching head.
And indeed Gu Yiran frowns, and brings him a blister packet of aspirin. “It’s okay to take two of these. It won’t interact with the drug.”
Zheng Bei swallows down the pills with some more water, grateful but also sort of frustrated. Is this what it takes for Gu Yiran to stop avoiding him - Zheng Bei making a fool of himself? Does Gu Yiran just feel sorry for him? Most likely that’s it. Is he going to go back to the same patterns once he’s reassured that Zheng Bei has recovered?
As Zheng Bei drinks, Gu Yiran starts talking again. “I heard from Yaoyao and Guozhu again late last night. They couldn’t find the person you described. But the club’s bartender also reported to the local police that he’d been drugged. He claims he never does drugs, and someone must have slipped him something.”
“Okay.” He knows that he’s supposed to join in the theorizing here. But he just sits there uselessly.
“We can go talk to him when you’re feeling better. It seems unlikely he’d bring himself to the police if he’d taken drugs willingly, though. For a guy that works in a place like that to talk to the police at all is kind of strange.”
It is strange. He should find that more important than he does right now, with Gu Yiran standing there and talking to him like - like his damn colleague.
“Ran-ge,” he gets out. Gu Yiran falls silent. “I…” He was going to say something like “I didn’t mean it,” but he finds that he can’t.
Gu Yiran waits for him for a while, until it becomes clear that Zheng Bei isn’t going to be able to complete his thought. He says, using his lecturer voice again, “Many people who have taken MDMA say that it lowers their inhibitions. That they say things that they would have suppressed normally, but not things that they don’t mean. Was that your experience?”
What can he say? It would be easy to take the out, say he was drugged up, he doesn’t remember anything, it didn’t mean anything. But he’s tired and his head is pounding and he’s afraid. Gu Yiran has seen him at his worst and most embarrassing already.
He just really doesn’t want to lie right now. But he lets his eyes close for a moment. He can’t look at Gu Yiran’s expression.
“Yeah,” he says. “That’s pretty much what happened.”
The silence following that admission is too heavy to bear. He forces himself up, out of bed, without any clear destination in mind; just to get some breathing room.
“Don’t pay it any mind,” he says belatedly. “Don’t… just forget it. I was…”
“But you meant it.”
He shakes his head, more to dispel that statement than as a negation. “I was just being selfish.” His eyes press shut again. This is excruciating. “You should go where you want to go. I’m not…” going to stop you? worth it?
“If I kissed you, what would you do?”
Zheng Bei’s eyes fly back open. Gu Yiran is serious, intent. It doesn’t seem like it’s a joke. He’s so reckless, sometimes.
He’s been quiet too long. Gu Yiran’s expression flickers, like he moves some part of him behind a screen. “Would you report me?”
“No.” His voice sounds raspy, thick. He really needs some more water. “Honestly, I might throw up, if you did it right now.”
Gu Yiran wastes no time in bringing him a mug of hot water. Once Zheng Bei drinks it, Gu Yiran pours him another. Task done, he looks back at Zheng Bei.
“Later? Would you throw up?”
He swallows. Damn, even after the drink his throat is dry, his skin hot. “No.”
Gu Yiran nods, like he was expecting it. “What would you do?”
Inside Zheng Bei an earthquake is happening. Things are getting uncovered, but not cleanly. Whole edifices are cracking, falling, reforming.
“I think… I’d let you.”
“Let me?”
“I might… I might… do it too. Kiss you back.” His mouth feels clumsy forming the words. To his own ear they sound awkward, even stupid, but as he says it, he knows it’s true. He would. He wants to.
“You should think it over first,” Gu Yiran says. His tone is so matter of fact, like they’re discussing a stakeout, but Zheng Bei can see where his hand is gripped tight into a fist at his side. “This could ruin your life.”
Right. It could.
“I thought you wanted to leave,” he says. “I thought you were done with -“ Me. “Halan.”
Gu Yiran shakes his head. “I couldn’t understand you. I didn't know if you’d seen through me, or if you would soon. I thought you’d be horrified, or even if you weren’t… But you were so-“ He makes a frustrated noise. “I was trying to get over it, so we could go back to normal.”
“Don’t get over it.” Zheng Bei can’t look away from him. “Don’t go back to normal.” He shifts closer to Gu Yiran. “Stay here. I want you to stay here. Ran-ge, Ranran, don’t you think-?”
He can’t say any more. Gu Yiran is looking at him with a strange light in his eyes. “Will you really throw up if I kiss you?”
“I don’t know,” he says. He can barely feel his limbs, but it doesn’t feel bad anymore. “Let’s see.”
He doesn’t throw up. But he doesn’t make it very far before he has to sit down abruptly on the couch, head spinning.
Gu Yiran laughs, and presses a cool hand to his temple.
“Ran-ge,” he says, helplessly, and leans into his side. The fabric of Gu Yiran’s shirt is warm from his body. Slowly Gu Yiran’s hand finds its way into his hair. There’s some sun coming through the dark curtains of the room, their room. A little.