“Still hungry? We could probably order takeout.”
“I want to eat something you made, gege,” Chu Xingxiao replied, his tone soft. “Anything’s fine, I’m not picky.”
Chi Zhan only knew how to make a few simple dishes, but with Chu Xingxiao staring at him so expectantly, he couldn’t bring himself to say no. In the end, he boiled a pot of mini wontons.
They weren’t homemade, of course—just some instant wontons he liked from a shop downstairs. Shrimp and chicken filling, his favorite. He kept them frozen, and when cooked, the taste held up nicely. He added some seaweed, dried shrimp, and a touch of chicken broth. The result was still rich and flavorful.
Chu Xingxiao took one bite, and his eyes lit up. Then he practically devoured the bowl, gulping it all down—broth included.
“Are there any more?” he asked hopefully.
“…That was the last of it.”
He’d eaten all of it—the portion Chi Zhan had originally prepared for himself. The guy must’ve been starving.
“It’s really late,” Chi Zhan glanced at the clock. “You should head home.”
“I’m suddenly feeling a bit dizzy. I might not be able to walk.”
Chi Zhan shot him a look.
“What did you promise me earlier?”
No more lying.
“Alright, fine… just a little dizzy. Not enough to stop me from walking,” Chu Xingxiao admitted, then added with a pitiful tone, “But it’s freezing outside, and this late, it’s hard to get a ride. The hotel’s pretty far, too. You wouldn’t let me go back all alone in the cold, would you, gege?”
He gazed up at him, wide-eyed and hopeful.
“……”
He rubbed his forehead.
“You’re sleeping on the couch.”
“Okay,” Chu Xingxiao agreed immediately. “Even if it’s a bit small and narrow, and I might fall off if I roll over, it’s fine. Just having a place to sleep already makes me happy.”
Chi Zhan’s brow twitched. He stared blankly at Chu Xingxiao.
“Speak human.”
“I want to sleep with you,” Chu Xingxiao said seriously. “I won’t do anything. I swear.”
And saying that is basically the same as “I promise we’re just gonna cuddle”…
Still, his behavior tonight had earned him a tiny sliver of credibility.
Besides, the couch really wasn’t comfortable, and it was winter—making the guy sleep on the floor would be cruel. He’d probably catch a cold by morning.
“Remember what you said,” Chi Zhan warned. “Absolutely nothing.”
Chu Xingxiao raised his hand solemnly.
“I swear. On my cousin’s name. If I break my promise, may he be impotent for life.”
“…?”
…Do you hate your cousin or something?
***
Last time Chu Xingxiao had left, he’d taken most of his clothes with him, leaving only a few jackets behind—not exactly suitable for lounging around the house.
Chi Zhan had to dig through his closet to find something Chu Xingxiao could wear. Meanwhile, the younger man wandered around the apartment. All of his things had been neatly packed away into storage boxes by Chi Zhan.
Chi Zhan was starting to get a headache.
He only bought clothes when necessary, choosing whatever fit reasonably well. Judging by eye, there weren’t many pieces that would suit Chu Xingxiao’s build. Just as he was mulling this over, a warm breath tickled his ear. Chu Xingxiao had come up behind him and wrapped his arms around Chi Zhan’s waist, his messy black hair sticking out in all directions as he yawned lazily.
“So sleepy… I’m gonna shower first.”
He had already shrugged off his windbreaker and was now down to a thin black T-shirt. The fabric clung lightly to his body, revealing the heat of youthful strength beneath. Even after spending the night in the cold, all it took was a hot meal and some rest for him to bounce back.
The two of them were standing far too close. Chi Zhan was clearly uncomfortable. He grabbed a loose-fitting shirt at random and shoved it into Chu Xingxiao’s arms.
“Go on.”
He had already prepared fresh toiletries, towels, and a bathrobe in the bathroom. Chi Zhan had always been meticulous and considerate. Once the bathroom door shut behind Chu Xingxiao, he finally let out a quiet breath.
He wasn’t too worried about something happening between them tonight. They’d known each other long enough—though Chu Xingxiao could be bold at times, he also had a shy and reserved side. He’d only ever dared to kiss Chi Zhan under the influence of alcohol, and even then, he’d anxiously watched his expression afterwards.
Overall, the risk was low.
Chi Zhan tidied up the living room a bit and spotted a gift box tucked in a cabinet—the one that held the last butterfly jade pendant.
He’d originally bought it as a gift for Chu Xingxiao, but by some mix-up, it had ended up in someone else’s hands. Though he eventually got it back, he’d forgotten about it since.
When he bought the gift, he never imagined both Qi Song and Chu Xingxiao—those two cousins—would fall for him.
At first glance, Qi Song and Chu Xingxiao seemed like complete opposites. But every now and then, he noticed subtle similarities—an unshakable devotion to their dreams, moments of unguarded tenderness, even a few echoes in their profiles.
And then there were those tear-shaped beauty marks beneath their eyes. Sometimes, they messed with his perception.
But their personalities couldn’t be more different.
Qi Song was cold as snow.
Chu Xingxiao burned with the energy of spring.
Chi Zhan picked up a half-finished novel and sat down under the light to read, planning to shower after Chu Xingxiao was done. The sound of running water faded, signaling the end of the shower. Chi Zhan didn’t think much of it—until the bedroom door opened and he caught a glance from the corner of his eye.
He froze.
“You’re not… wearing anything?”
Before he could get the full question out, Chu Xingxiao answered first.
“The clothes didn’t fit right. They were uncomfortable.”
He even sounded a little aggrieved.
“……”
Normally, Chu Xingxiao wore loose T-shirts, but his physique was nothing to scoff at. Wrapped in a bathrobe, his lean abs were defined yet smooth, his waist trim, body youthful and handsome.
His damp black hair clung to his forehead, his bangs falling messily into his eyes. He looked like the sweet, obedient boy next door.
Chi Zhan managed to say, “Dry your hair before you sleep.”
Then he turned and headed for the bathroom.
Despite the stern look on his face, his retreating figure was practically an escape, betraying everything he was trying to suppress.
Chu Xingxiao watched him go, a smirk curling at his lips.
Gotcha. But this? This wasn’t nearly enough.
The bathroom was warm with steam. It had been cleaned thoroughly. On the fogged-up mirror, there was a little doodle—an exaggerated pouty face pressing up for a kiss.
Clearly, Chu Xingxiao’s handiwork.
