Chapter 89
IT WAS HIS FIRST TIME seeing Gu Fei cry.
His first time hearing the sobs, holding his shaking body, and feeling the warm, wet tears staining his chest.
Jiang Cheng had always thought of himself as a pretty resilient person. Since he’d moved here, he would reflect after every time he shed a tear—Ah, crying again, are we? Why are you crying again, you loser?!
He’d always assumed that Gu Fei was stronger than him. Or rather, he thought that in certain areas, Gu Fei simply didn’t feel things as intensely as he did, that he was more aloof. In his subconscious mind, he never put “Gu Fei” and “tears” in the same sentence.
But now, this boy he thought was strong to the point of detachment, the young tyrant of the steelworks, this troublemaker whom no one in the school dared offend, this Good Little Bunny who took beautiful photos, kept candy in his pockets, acted cute, sought attention, and said, “Cheng-ge, I was wrong,” was burying his face in Jiang Cheng’s chest and crying.
Crying.
What started out as repressed sobs slowly turned into a kind of guttural, heart-wrenching wail, as though he was venting all of his grievances through his cries.
Jiang Cheng had never seen Gu Fei like this, nor had he ever expected to see Gu Fei like this. His thoughts were a mess, and he had no idea how he could soothe him. At the same time, though, he didn’t really try to soothe him.
When Gu Fei was like this, he probably didn’t need consoling. No matter how perfectly executed the soothing was, it wouldn’t be of any use.
Jiang Cheng only needed to be there. To listen.
Gu Miao, who had been drawing bunnies on the sofa, had stopped at some point to watch Gu Fei. Crayon in hand, she watched him calmly with only a slight furrow in her brow.
Her expression reminded Jiang Cheng of the time he and Gu Fei had brawled on the street, and the time Gu Fei had flung a man into a tree. Each time, Gu Miao had worn a similarly calm expression, as though she had no idea what was happening.
Jiang Cheng couldn’t tell what she was thinking, or if she was thinking about anything. He wondered if she could feel Gu Fei’s anguish.
He bent down and kissed the top of Gu Fei’s head, pressing his lips against the stubbly hair.
What happened today had been entirely beyond his expectations. He felt a little regretful—but exultant at the same time. What if he’d never been told what he heard from Gu Fei today? Would he never have known how Gu Fei really felt? Would Gu Fei’s resignation and despair have stayed a secret forever?
And if…if they really broke up one day, would he ever have known that the person who had taken up such an important place in his heart during the confusing years of his youth had had such a secret buried deep inside?
He bent down again and nuzzled his nose against the top of Gu Fei’s head.
“Isn’t it scratchy?” Gu Fei asked, his voice muffled against Jiang Cheng’s chest.
“Hm?” Jiang Cheng blinked. Gu Fei’s sniffly voice tugged on his heartstrings.
“My hair,” said Gu Fei. “Even I find it scratchy.”
“A little.” Jiang Cheng ran his hand over the short buzz on his head. “Are you not planning on growing it out again? How many times have you shaved it now?”
“I think I look really good like this.” Gu Fei rubbed his cheek against Jiang Cheng’s shirt.
Jiang Cheng looked down at him. “…Are you wiping your face on my shirt?”
“Mm.” Gu Fei stilled, then slowly shifted downward. “If your shirt’s off limits, I can use your pants instead.”
“Shit.” Jiang Cheng jumped and shot a glance at Gu Miao. She was staring at them, still holding her crayon. He hurried to drag Gu Fei up by his collar. “Your baby sister is watching!”
Gu Fei stopped moving, his face buried against Jiang Cheng’s belly. He reached out a hand to tap his finger against Gu Miao’s paper, and Gu Miao put her head down and started drawing bunnies again.
Gu Fei braced a hand on the sofa and pushed himself to his feet. Still hunched over, he looked down at Jiang Cheng. “I’m gonna go…wash my face.”
Jiang Cheng nodded. “M’kay.” Tear tracks marked Gu Fei’s face, and his wet eyelashes stuck together in little clumps. Jiang Cheng’s heart clenched suddenly, then melted on the spot. “You have such long eyelashes,” he said.
“You have really long eyelashes too.” Gu Fei smiled, then leaned in and kissed Jiang Cheng’s forehead. “Were you waiting for me to say that?”
“Get out!” Jiang Cheng said.
While Gu Fei went to wash his face, Jiang Cheng turned to look at Gu Miao, who was close to filling up the second piece of paper with drawings of bunnies. He put down another page for her.
It was very quiet in the living room. Jiang Cheng tilted his head up and leaned back on the couch. His heart felt a little heavy, but there was a strange clarity to it—the kind of clarity you felt when the congestion from an intense weeklong cold finally eased up and let you breathe again.
Gu Fei hadn’t hidden himself from view. He’d bared his tear-streaked face in front of Jiang Cheng without any reservation.
He liked Gu Fei like this.
Perhaps there were parts of him he didn’t want Jiang Cheng to see, but once he decided to show them, there would be no holding back.
Jiang Cheng stood up and walked into the bathroom. Gu Fei had wrapped a towel around some ice cubes and was pressing it against his eyes. Jiang Cheng walked up behind Gu Fei and hugged him. “Are your eyes puffy?”
“A little. Not too bad,” said Gu Fei. “They’ll probably be back to normal in fifteen minutes.”
“I was worried earlier that you’d frightened Gu Miao.”
“Nah.” Gu Fei smiled. “She doesn’t really feel other people’s emotions.”
“Ah, really?” Jiang Cheng let out a soft sigh. “…I can feel it.”
“Did I frighten you, then?” Gu Fei asked.
“No,” said Jiang Cheng. “I just ached for you.”
“It’s nothing, really,” Gu Fei insisted. “There are some things you just have to shut the door and brood about. Outside that door, nobody knows what problems and struggles anyone else is dealing with; everyone just looks the same kind of miserable.”
Jiang Cheng didn’t answer. He leaned down and bit Gu Fei’s shoulder.
“When did you memorize the score?” Gu Fei asked, still icing his eyes.
For a second, Jiang Cheng couldn’t work out what he was talking about. “What score?”
“For the piece you played today.”
“Oh. I memorized most of it the last time I heard it,” Jiang Cheng said. He felt a complicated mix of emotions at the mention of the composition. He was sorry that Gu Fei didn’t get to hear it, but if things hadn’t gone wrong the way they did, he and Gu Fei wouldn’t have talked it out. “I made some changes since I couldn’t remember all of it.”
“It sounded great. Better than the original,” said Gu Fei.
“Huh?” Jiang Cheng lifted up his head in shock, looking at Gu Fei’s reflection in the mirror. “You heard it? I thought you left. I didn’t see you after I got on stage!”
“I left after you were done.” Gu Fei switched the cold compress to his other eye. “It’s not like the auditorium is soundproof. I listened to the whole thing through the window at the back of the building.”
“Fuck,” Jiang Cheng said, his mouth hanging open. He didn’t know what else to say, so he repeated himself: “Fuck.”
“I didn’t hear it very clearly, though.” Gu Fei turned around to face him, leaning back against the sink. “Our school doesn’t have the best sound system.”
“Ah.” Jiang Cheng was still speechless.
“Here, Cheng-ge. Hold the ice for me.” Gu Fei handed the cold compress to him.
“Oh.” Jiang Cheng took it and pressed it against Gu Fei’s eye.
“It wasn’t composed very well. I wrote it a long time ago. I was just a kid messing around.”
“Are you humble-bragging, sir?” said Jiang Cheng. “Very subtle.”
Gu Fei laughed. “I’m serious.”
Jiang Cheng looked at him. “For those of us without the gift of musical composition, what you just said, my good sir, is a solid eight and a half pounds of braggy bullshit.”
“Watch your language.”
“Eight and a half pounds of bull-beeeep.”
Gu Fei curved his lips, leaned over, and kissed the tip of Jiang Cheng’s nose. “Were you seriously angry today?”
“It’s not anger, really.” Jiang Cheng lowered the towel and wrung out the melted ice. “But you know how it is with me—sometimes I just can’t hold my temper back. All I thought at the time was if you’re angry, unhappy, or annoyed, you could at least let me know. Even if you came to curse at me and say, ‘Jiang Cheng, you’re a fucking dumbass,’ or wanted to fight me or something, then at least I’d know what’s going on, you know…?”
Gu Fei didn’t answer, only leaned in and kissed him.
Jiang Cheng was still for a moment. When Gu Fei’s tongue swept across his teeth, he finally snapped out of it and held Gu Fei tight, pressing their bodies together. They moved with a vengeance, almost as if they were enemies who couldn’t wait to get their hands on each other. Their tongues clashed into each other, battling for dominance. All at once, back and forth, it was hard to tell who had the upper hand.
Jiang Cheng could feel how wildly horny he was acting, the way he wanted to knead Gu Fei like a lump of dough and envelop him completely into his embrace. To bite him again and again, leaving behind a mark every time.
Gu Fei probably had similar thoughts. Pushing Jiang Cheng against the wall, he nipped his way from Jiang Cheng’s earlobe to his shoulder. Finally, Jiang Cheng couldn’t stand it anymore, and he bit down on Gu Fei’s arm before Gu Fei could do the same to him.
“You dog!” Gu Fei squeezed Jiang Cheng’s jaw. “Let go!”
Jiang Cheng let go, leaned back against the wall, and tilted his head up to let out a long breath. Then, he closed his eyes.