Gu Zhuoyan Says: "I Washed Them."

"Just cry for a little while," Gu Zhuoyan coaxed in a low voice. He didn't have any tissues, so he took out Gu Baoyan's small handkerchief from his pocket, which even had a sunflower printed on it.

Zhuang Fanxin cupped the mask in his hands, feeling it was embarrassing to be crying and sobbing, but he couldn't stop. Tears even leaked out from the eye holes. After a moment, Gu Zhuoyan forcefully pried his hands away, wiped his tears, and led him to a shady corner.

Some people craned their necks to stare at them, and some also whispered about them, but none of it mattered. Gu Zhuoyan had orchestrated this scene precisely for this kind of shameless display. When he came out, there was a whole scene, and he was the one implicated by others. Today's scene, however, was one he had arranged for Zhuang Fanxin.

He understood Zhuang Fanxin's awkwardness and jealousy. He understood that when you like someone, you wish you could share everything with them, the good and the bad, the glorious and the embarrassing. Like cotton candy, even when pulled apart and melted, it's still sweet.

Gu Zhuoyan lifted the tip of Zhuang Fanxin's chin and flicked away a teardrop. "Still angry?"

Zhuang Fanxin said, "I've reflected on it." He was incredibly docile, and his faintly red eyelids made him seem even more sincere. "I've been too unreasonable these past few days, I'm sorry."

After a cold war that lasted for days and nights, Gu Zhuoyan had made up his mind before he came to teach him a lesson and set some rules after they reconciled. But right now, his mind was a bit of a blank. He reached out, cupped the back of Zhuang Fanxin's neck, pulled him in, and held him in his arms, saying, "It's my first time writing a love letter. It's pretty rough, so just make do."

A muffled sobbing sound came from his chest. Zhuang Fanxin was like a kettle of boiling water pressed against Gu Zhuoyan's chest, the surging passion and momentary emotion flying out from the spout. Gu Zhuoyan stroked the back of his head again and again, so much so that it generated static electricity.

It took a long time for him to calm down. After his tearful display, he felt utterly mortified. Zhuang Fanxin wanted to put the mask back on, but Gu Zhuoyan held his hand down. "Come on, aren't you afraid of bumping into a tree?"

Zhuang Fanxin sniffled, his gaze lingering on Gu Zhuoyan—the white shirt, the tailcoat, the suit pants, and the delicate romantic knot tied at his neck. He looked like a gentleman, a prince, and most of all, a groom.

Gu Zhuoyan had seen Qi Nan's Moments post and guessed that Zhuang Fanxin would also come. He asked Zhao Jianqiu, and sure enough, he was. He borrowed clothes from Xue Maochen and came with Gu Baoyan.

"Oh, right," Gu Zhuoyan said. "Auntie told me to tell you that she and Uncle have booked a restaurant for a private date, so you'll have to figure out lunch on your own."

Zhuang Fanxin was feeling clingy. "Should we eat out for lunch?"

"Sister Hu said she's preparing a big meal for the first day of the new year." Gu Zhuoyan put an arm around Zhuang Fanxin as they walked back. "Let's go home in a bit and celebrate New Year's Day with my grandpa."

Under a tree at the entrance of the comic con, Princess Jasmine was playing cards with the cosplayer from The Disastrous Life of Saiki K.

After Qi Nan finished taking a photo with Aomine Daiki, he turned and saw Gu Zhuoyan and Zhuang Fanxin standing still in the crowd, looking at each other, and thought there was another remake of Meteor Garden. Later, he ran into Gu Baoyan, whom he had seen on Gu Zhuoyan's Moments, so he just took the kid for a stroll.

When Gu Zhuoyan and Zhuang Fanxin found them, they were sitting under the tree. Qi Nan asked, puzzled, "Is there some story between you two?"

Zhuang Fanxin felt a little guilty. "We want to get into the top ten of our grade together."

"Damn," Qi Nan said. "So it's a mythological story."

Gu Zhuoyan decided to play dumb. He lowered his head and asked Gu Baoyan, "Who bought you the playing cards?"

"Playing cards? How uncool can you be." Qi Nan took out a stack of receipts. "Here, Cardcaptor Sakura cards, a Natsume figure, a Luffy doll, and a cheese hot dog combo. Your sister spent over two hundred of my money, reimburse me."

Gu Zhuoyan took out his wallet. "Are there any more activities planned?"

Qi Nan gave a mysterious smile. Next, he was going to an offline mixer to meet some girls. Gu Baoyan quickly asked, "Can a little sister like me join?"

"You're a bit too young." Qi Nan took off the antennae and put them on Gu Baoyan's head. "It's a gift. Use your superpowers to grow up faster."

Qi Nan left them to pursue his own happiness. Gu Zhuoyan and Zhuang Fanxin took the child and headed home. Zhuang Fanxin didn't even change his clothes and eagerly tagged along to the Xue family's home to freeload a big meal.

Today, Sister Hu was with them. All in all, Sister Hu had been taking care of Xue Maochen for almost five years. Back when Zhuang Fanxin had just started middle school, he was dragged over by Xue Maochen to be a food critic, but he was so picky that he almost caused Sister Hu to fail her probation period.

Everyone was there. With a table full of dishes and a baked pizza, it felt as if they were back on the day the siblings first arrived. Xue Maochen opened a bottle of red wine and remarked amid the rich aroma that on this day last year, he had spent New Year's Day with Zhuang Fanxin's family, but this year, his own home was also filled with laughter.

Zhuang Fanxin took a sip of red wine. It was very fragrant. He charmingly clinked glasses with Xue Maochen. "Grandpa, I'm coming to freeload for the Spring Festival this year too."

Gu Zhuoyan lifted his eyes. Taking advantage of his long legs, he stretched them out and playfully kicked Zhuang Fanxin's ankle. Xue Maochen, who was in the dark, said, "Really? You go to the USA every winter break to be with your grandparents. Don't you go tricking an old empty-nester like me."

Zhuang Fanxin said, "I'm not going this year. I want to stay in Rong City for the New Year."

Actually, he hadn't told his parents yet, but he felt that Zhuang Xianyang and Zhao Jianqiu would agree. Even if they didn't, they couldn't tie him up and force him onto a plane. He snuck a glance at Gu Zhuoyan, speaking with his brows and the corners of his eyes. 'We spent Christmas together, we're spending New Year's Day together, and I want to spend the Spring Festival with you too.'

Gu Zhuoyan saw it clearly and stated his position, "Grandpa, I'm not going back either."

"Won't your grandpa come looking to settle scores with me then?" Xue Maochen said cheerfully. "Of course, I'm not afraid of him settling scores."

Gu Zhuoyan said, "We'll spend the Spring Festival together this year, but your red envelopes will have to be a bit thicker."

They coaxed Xue Maochen into a cheerful mood, and more than half the bottle of red wine was gone before they knew it. Zhuang Fanxin's cheeks were flushed from the wine, and while eating pizza, he would always squint his eyes, looking smugly pleased with himself.

In the afternoon, Gu Zhuoyan and Zhuang Fanxin were in the bedroom. The French window was left ajar, letting in the wind and light of a Rong City winter. The bow tie had been pulled off long ago, and the top two buttons of his shirt were also undone. Gu Zhuoyan sat leisurely in the armchair, feeling a bit sleepy from the wine.

On the table were scattered sheets of white paper and two or three pencils of varying thickness. Zhuang Fanxin sat down on the corner of the bed, facing Gu Zhuoyan, picked up a pencil and paper, and began to sketch.

A few minutes later, Gu Zhuoyan lifted his eyelids. "Making me your model again?"

Zhuang Fanxin didn't say a word, just drew. After a few more minutes, he crumpled up the paper, started a new one, and then crumpled that one up too. He did this again and again with no end in sight. Gu Zhuoyan's eyes were closed, but he left them open a crack, half-asleep, watching Zhuang Fanxin's struggles.

He'd lost count of how many sheets he'd gone through. The waste paper was tossed on the carpet. As Zhuang Fanxin reached for a new sheet, Gu Zhuoyan grabbed his wrist and pulled sharply, yanking him from the corner of the bed to stand before him.

Like a lord, Gu Zhuoyan patted his thigh.

Zhuang Fanxin sat down, shifting into the most comfortable and pliant position. He fit into Gu Zhuoyan's embrace with his back arched, and once Gu Zhuoyan's arms were wrapped around him, he couldn't be bothered to move an inch, even if the sky were falling.

"Sheet after sheet," Gu Zhuoyan began to settle the score, "are you deliberately wasting my paper?"

"I can't draw it well," Zhuang Fanxin said. He raised his arms to wrap them around Gu Zhuoyan's neck, his breath filled with the smell of wine. Gu Zhuoyan opened his eyes now. "Why can't you draw it well? I didn't move."

Zhuang Fanxin's slipper fell off. "But I moved," he said.

Gu Zhuoyan was perplexed. "Where did you move?"

Zhuang Fanxin lowered his eyes. He took Gu Zhuoyan's hand, which was resting on his leg, and placed it on his chest, pressing down hard through the fencing suit. His eyelashes trembled from embarrassment. "When I look at you," he said, "this part moves on its own."

Even Gu Zhuoyan blushed a little. 'Does wine give cowards courage? How did this person get so cheesy?' He had no time to think about anything else. He tilted his head to kiss Zhuang Fanxin's cheek, then pinched his chin, lifted it, and sealed his lips.

He usually kissed fiercely, as if trying to chew the other person's lips swollen every time, but this time he was gentle. His lips traced like a brush, moistening Zhuang Fanxin's, parting his teeth, exploring inside then luring out. So soft, for a moment he couldn't tell if it was a tongue or the flesh and bone in his arms.

Zhuang Fanxin whimpered again, his head tilted back, his small Adam's apple bobbing up and down as faint sounds escaped from his throat. He had no strength left. His arms, draped over Gu Zhuoyan's shoulders, felt like they would slip off at any moment. Even though they hadn't done anything, the sweat from the heat had already dampened his temples.

"Still going to draw?"

"Ngh... can't draw..."

On the terrace, a small bird landed on the railing, chirping loudly, before flying away.

He didn't know how many birds had come and gone before Gu Zhuoyan finally let go of Zhuang Fanxin. Both were panting, their alcohol-laced breaths mingling, sobriety giving way to intoxication.

He pushed aside the hair on Zhuang Fanxin's forehead. His forehead and face were flushed a vivid red. Pulling open his collar a bit revealed that his slender neck was also flushed and hot. The aftereffects of the red wine were kicking in; a hazy film covered Zhuang Fanxin's pupils, and his body was completely drained of strength.

But he was still somewhat conscious. Like a drunken cat climbing a wall, he clung to Gu Zhuoyan's shoulder, whimpering for a long time, and said softly amidst his wine-scented breath, "I love you."

Gu Zhuoyan's eyes glinted. He hooked an arm under his waist and legs, picked him up, walked to the bedside, and half-knelt on one knee to lay Zhuang Fanxin flat. He felt innocent; it was Zhuang Fanxin's fault for getting drunk and starting trouble. In a few swift moves, he stripped off the fencing suit and pants.

Zhuang Fanxin was left in nothing but a small undershirt and his underwear. His slender calves were still covered by pure white long socks, the edges rolled down and bunched up at the bend of his knees, unable to go up or down. He felt cold, but even more so, he felt hot. Large patches of his skin were exposed to the air, gilded by the light filtering in, like mercury coated in gold leaf.

Zhuang Fanxin curled up slightly, fumbling for the blanket to cover himself and hide his embarrassment.

Gu Zhuoyan didn't let him. He got onto the bed, hovering over Zhuang Fanxin, and deftly unbuttoned his shirt.

"I..." In Zhuang Fanxin's unfocused pupils, there was only Gu Zhuoyan's approaching face. He had been turned from his side onto his back, his clamped-shut legs parted. He remembered the words from the love letter, 'attempting to approach you, demand from you, be with you...'

Suddenly, Gu Zhuoyan's hand slid into his hair, soothing him, luring him, controlling him firmly.

"Baby," Gu Zhuoyan said, "the love letter wasn't written for nothing. You have to be good."

Zhuang Fanxin gave a muffled response, unable to hide his timidness.

The heavy bedroom door acted like a filter. The bird songs from the terrace sounded less crisp as they passed through it. The creaking of the bed also seemed trivial. Gu Zhuoyan's soft coaxing was almost inaudible, intermittent, leaving only Zhuang Fanxin's pitiful yet blissful cries.

Zhuang Fanxin melted into a puddle, allowing Gu Zhuoyan to scoop him up and drink his fill. On the light-colored wall were their shadows, overlapping perfectly, like a gemstone set in its mounting, bezel-set or prong-set, so secure they could not be separated.

On a bright afternoon that needed no lights, they indulged in their passion, rumpling the bedsheet. Zhuang Fanxin lay trembling on the pillow, his sharp shoulder blades like a pair of exquisitely carved little wings. A circle of red marks was on his waist, pinched there by Gu Zhuoyan's caressing palms.

They went on until evening. Zhuang Fanxin fell asleep and woke up, only to fall back into an exhausted sleep. During this time, Sister Hu knocked on the door to say dinner was ready. Gu Zhuoyan, steadying his breath, said he wasn't hungry. As soon as she left, he leaned down and bit Zhuang Fanxin's tattoo.

At night, Gu Zhuoyan was woken by a cool breeze. Zhuang Fanxin was nestled in the crook of his arm, the flush on his face still not having faded completely. He got up to close the sliding window, then picked up Zhuang Fanxin horizontally and carried him to the bathroom to wash up. He had told him to be good, and he was being perfectly obedient now; he probably wouldn't even react if he were thrown into the bathtub.

Gu Zhuoyan dressed Zhuang Fanxin in his own underwear and T-shirt, wrapped him tightly in the blanket, and held him close as he went back to sleep.

In a daze, Zhuang Fanxin rubbed against his chin and said in a faint voice, "My butt hurts..."

Gu Zhuoyan reached out to rub it, his palm almost covering both of Zhuang Fanxin's butt cheeks. He wasn't sure how much pain the other was in, but it was true that he himself was getting more and more restless.

They held each other until the sun was high in the sky. If not for a severe cramp in his calf, Zhuang Fanxin still wouldn't have woken up. He twisted and struggled, eyes closed, each whimper more pitiful than the last. Gu Zhuoyan woke up instantly, sat up, and kneaded his calf. The cramping gradually subsided. He opened his eyes in a daze and saw the red scratch marks on Gu Zhuoyan's back.

"Still sleepy?" Gu Zhuoyan put his leg down and pounced, pressing down on him lightly.

Zhuang Fanxin shook his head. The effect of the alcohol had faded, and yesterday's scenes played out in his now-clear mind, frame by frame, so high-definition it was like 1080P.

He stared at Gu Zhuoyan's neck, where a bite mark was very obvious. "...Did I bite you?"

"What do you think?" Gu Zhuoyan said. "You insisted on giving me a hickey, sucked for ages and drooled all over me, and then you got angry and chomped down on me."

Zhuang Fanxin apologized, ashamed and indignant. "I'm sorry, I drank too much."

"It's fine." Gu Zhuoyan suppressed a smile and pulled away the blanket. "I bit you too."

Zhuang Fanxin lifted his T-shirt. There wasn't a single unblemished spot on his shoulders, neck, or chest; it was mottled with red and pink marks. He twisted to look at his side and saw he'd even been pinched a "red belt" around his waist. His legs ached with the slightest movement. The underwear was a bit big—it was the pair he had bought for Gu Zhuoyan. He looked around for his own and saw them hanging on the clothes rack on the terrace.

Gu Zhuoyan said: "I washed them."

"..." Zhuang Fanxin's face burned red. "I could have just taken them home to wash myself."

"They got all wet yesterday." Gu Zhuoyan was backing him into a corner. "Dripping wet."

Zhuang Fanxin got up to cover Gu Zhuoyan's mouth but was caught in an embrace. Gu Zhuoyan carried him off the bed, walked to the closet to pick out clothes, and pinned him against the closet door to grind against him, telling him his skin was thin, his flesh tender and sweet, until he almost fainted.

He had over a dozen missed calls on his phone, all from Zhuang Xianyang and Zhao Jianqiu. There were also photos of the mixer from Qi Nan. Zhuang Fanxin changed into a set of Gu Zhuoyan's sportswear, covering his arms and legs, washed his face, and prepared to go home.

He couldn't walk fast; every limb ached with each step. After walking out of the Xue Family's gate, he told Gu Zhuoyan not to see him off any further.

"Then walk slowly," Gu Zhuoyan instructed. "If you feel uncomfortable, tell me. I'll come over and apply medicine for you."

Zhuang Fanxin walked forward with a red face, carrying the fencing suit and holding the love letter. After a long moment, he had only walked a meter. He finally realized it wasn't that he was too slow, but that there was something he hadn't said.

He turned back and called out, "Gu Zhuoyan."

"Hm?" Gu Zhuoyan looked at him.

Zhuang Fanxin said, "When I get home, I'm going to tell my parents that I'm with you."