Yan Xiaodao jumped down from Ling He’s shoulders, warmth swelling in his chest until it felt ready to burst.
He moved first. Before the crowd outside could collectively charge into the bedroom, he slammed the door shut, locked it, and kept every irrelevant spectator outside.
Mao Zhixiu’s voice came through the door. “Mr. Yan, did you find the important prop?”
“Found it. Don’t need you anymore!” Yan Xiaodao answered crisply.
“Let us in to watch! You don’t need us anymore, so now we don’t even get to see?!” everyone protested in unison.
“Clean up the kitchen before you leave. Better yet, wash the dishes for me too!” Yan Xiaodao shouted back.
“What the fuck… where’s the humanity, where’s the justice?!” The deafening uproar nearly lifted the cedar-shingled roof from the cabin, outrage shaking heaven and earth.
Yan Xiaodao mentally changed the channel and shut out every bit of noise beyond the door. In his eyes and in his heart, there was only Ling He.
Ling He stood barefoot beneath the light, long hair falling over his shoulders, strikingly handsome. The warmth of the finger marks they had left on each other during the close, heated tango still seemed to linger on their bodies, as though each man’s palm had been branded into the other’s skin. Those palmprints and finger marks seemed to press deeper still, all the way into the heart.
Yan Xiaodao gripped the velvet box in his hand. The room was utterly still, leaving only the thunder of their two heartbeats.
Ling He suddenly tore his fixed gaze away just as Yan Xiaodao strode toward him.
Ling He went on alert, stepped back, and suddenly looked ready to flee at the last possible moment.
Yan Xiaodao shifted quickly, blocking every escape route Ling He tried to take.
Ling He turned and ran again.
One dodged while the other chased.
A smile was plainly breaking across Ling He’s lips. The happiness welling from deep inside him could not be hidden, almost steaming from every pore of his face and skin. Yet he deliberately pulled a stern expression. “What are you doing? Stop chasing me.”
Yan Xiaodao fought down his own smile and said solemnly, “Stop. Stand right there.”
Ling He said, “Why should I stand right there?”
Yan Xiaodao said, “Just stay there!”
Ling He said, “…I’m leaving.”
Yan Xiaodao said, “Don’t you dare leave!”
Ling He took off on those long legs, practically flying across the bed in a single stride.
Yan Xiaodao chased him relentlessly. The instant Ling He leapt down from the bed, Yan grabbed the fluttering hem of his shirt. Ling He was still much easier to catch than Four-Fat. For one thing, there was simply more of him, with plenty of convenient “handles” all over. Yan Xiaodao tackled him from behind, caught him around the knees and calves, and brought him straight down onto the floor.
The two men rolling across the floor seemed to fill the entire room in an instant. Tangled limbs, heaving chests, and all the affection showing at the corners of their eyes finally dissolved into laughter. Their laughter rose to the ceiling, making even Four-Fat, hanging from the curtain rod, stare down at the two idiots rolling around and laughing together on the floor.
With his unquestionable advantage in strength, Yan Xiaodao pinned Mr. Ling down and held all four limbs firmly in place. “Go on. Run again.”
Ling He lay on his back on the floor, glaring at him while laughing. “You can force this kind of thing? Isn’t it supposed to be voluntary?”
Yan Xiaodao said, “Did I force you?”
Ling He said, “You’re still straddling me.”
Only then did Yan Xiaodao reach into the bulging front pocket of his shirt and pull out the dark red velvet box again, holding it up for Ling He to see.
He had bought it long ago, half a year earlier. After dragging it out again and again, he finally decided to wait for a day that belonged to the two of them and do it properly, with the solemnity it deserved.
Today was that day, the first anniversary of their meeting. One year ago aboard the Cloudtop, he and Mr. Ling had looked at each other through a porthole while Ling hung inside a cage submerged in seawater. One glance had stretched into a lifetime, and neither had been able to look away.
Ling He’s voice was unmistakably trembling. His eyes looked like a pool of clear green water after the snow and ice had melted.
Ling He said, “I already proposed once. You’re proposing again?”
Yan Xiaodao said, “This one counts as the formal proposal.”
Ling He said, “Mine counted as formal. First come, first served.”
Yan Xiaodao said, “You didn’t do yours face-to-face. I’m doing this one face-to-face!”
Ling He said, “Other people get down on one knee, Mr. Yan. You’re proposing while straddling me?!”
Yan Xiaodao said, “…I’ve wanted to ride you for ages. I’ve been waiting for this day.”
Yan Xiaodao opened the velvet box. Two dazzling rings came into view beneath the chandelier’s light. A glint happened to fall across Ling He’s brow, almost making his eyes cross as he stared at them.
Yan Xiaodao had chosen the design carefully. He picked yellow K-gold rather than platinum, a strong, masculine style, but each ring was set with a small gemstone. The two rings were identical in design. The only difference was the color of the stones.
The one intended for Ling He was set with an emerald.
The one Yan Xiaodao kept for himself was set with an aquamarine.
The emerald’s beautiful luster reflected Ling He’s eyes, the color and texture of his irises seeming to compete with the gemstone. This ring could belong to no one but Mr. Ling.
Their initials were engraved inside the bands. Ling He had now restored his birth name on his passport and official documents, and even the English initials he used when signing company paperwork had been changed to E.G. Technically speaking, he ought to be called Mr. Gu now.
The moment Ling He saw the ring, he fell silent and stared. Entranced and unusually obedient, he let Xiaodao take his right hand and slide the ring onto his right ring finger.
Now both of them wore tokens of their commitment on both hands. Doubly bound, neither one could back out anymore.
Yan Xiaodao kissed the ring finger of Ling He’s right hand, then lifted his left hand and kissed that ring finger too.
Looking down at the man beneath him with unmistakable tenderness, Yan Xiaodao smiled. “So you’re saying yes?… Marrying me?”
Ling He said nothing. Instead, he pulled Yan Xiaodao’s right hand toward him and closed his mouth around the ring finger, his tongue brushing across the ring from the base of the finger to the tip. Then he took Yan’s left hand and did the same thing again, while Yan Xiaodao felt heat flare through him. Ling He’s tongue passed over the ring and the knife scars crossing his fingerprints, as though brushing over the softest place in Yan’s heart.
Ling He gave his answer without words: Yes. I’ll marry you, Mr. Yan.
Between you and me, do we still need a confession?
Yan Xiaodao suddenly bent down, cradled Ling He’s head, and kissed him, their lips and tongues meeting as his whole body seemed to boil. The hand at Ling He’s shoulder wandered uncontrollably beneath his clothes, clutching his back and caressing him with mounting emotion. Their tongues tangled wildly, his teeth nipping as his inner thigh rubbed against him.
Yan Xiaodao abruptly stood and pulled Ling He up from the floor. Ling He bumped Yan’s nose as he sprang up, and they stayed wrapped around each other for another moment, fingers interlaced.
The noise outside the bedroom had not died down. The record player was still blasting lively music, and the whole crowd was carrying on in the living room while the two men at the center of it all had already shut themselves inside. The bedroom was warm and charged, their exchanged looks fermenting into something heady. Their fingers clung together, neither willing to let go, and without a word they fell back into a loose dance hold, moving together in the middle of the room to whatever song happened to be playing.
With no one else around, this hardly counted as dancing anymore.
Yan Xiaodao lightly kissed the side of Ling He’s face, both hands roaming over him as he peeled away his clothes piece by piece, revealing the beautiful lines of his skin and frame. Ling He lightly bit the tip of Xiaodao’s nose, then reached down and squeezed him through his trousers, already visibly swollen and erect beneath the fabric.
He squeezed hard enough to bring a flush beneath Yan Xiaodao’s eyes. Yan Xiaodao grabbed Ling He’s trousers and yanked them off.
When the song ended, their strong, smooth bodies were pressed together beneath the light. Yan Xiaodao lifted Ling He high into his arms, watching his face rise closer to the chandelier until he looked almost unreal. Ling He wrapped his legs around Yan’s waist as Yan carried him to the bed and slowly laid him down.
Both of them knew exactly what they intended to do tonight.
Mr. Yan had proposed, and that proposal certainly was not going to be for nothing; he intended to ask for a little “return.” Yet this was something Yan Xiaodao had not rushed into even when he first came out of prison. He had never cared whether it happened a day or two sooner. He had been waiting for the day he formally proposed, waiting for the solemn ritual he had wanted in his heart. To him, Ling He was without equal and deserved a lifelong promise made with this much seriousness.
A wedding night, then. Between two men, there could be two wedding nights; this was the second, something they had both secretly anticipated for a long time, pent up until they felt ready to burst.
More noise erupted outside the bedroom as someone shamelessly called through the door, “Hey! You two, what are you doing in there?”
Without even turning around, Yan Xiaodao bellowed, “Busy!”
The people outside exploded again. “Heavens! These two have lost their minds!”
Yan Xiaodao shouted again, “Everybody out! Go, go!”
It sounded like Su Zhe’s shrill voice. “Mr. Yan, satisfy my final bit of curiosity and we’ll leave right away. Just tell me, which one of you is on top tonight? Hurry, hurry!”
This time Yan Xiaodao stopped shouting and simply looked at Ling He with a grin.
Ling He covered his eyes with one arm. “Make them get lost.”
Outside came the sound of two teacups being slid upside down across the table. Someone had apparently started taking bets. Immortal Mao, Su Zhe, and the others could be heard calling out, “Place your bets. Him on top, or him?”
Yan Xiaodao finally lost patience, charged over, and thumped the door several times. “Did you lot finish washing the dishes? We’re busy in here. Everybody go home!”
The whole pack of little demons teased them with shameless delight. Who had ever seen hosts like these? Their guests were still sitting in the living room, and the couple who owned the place had already shut themselves in the bedroom. At last everyone mercifully decided to spare them and cleared out, but not before shouting one final threat: “We’re coming back first thing tomorrow morning! We’ll see which one of you can’t get out of bed!”
……
When Yan Xiaodao came back from the door, he paused deliberately at the fireplace, removed the brass screen, added wood, and relit the fire.
Yan Xiaodao moved efficiently as he worked, crouching before the fireplace with his bare back turned toward Ling He.
A brilliant flame suddenly rose and filled the hearth, outlining Yan Xiaodao’s shoulders and thighs in orange light. From behind, his figure was striking: broad shoulders, a narrow waist, a straight spine running down to a firm curve.
Ling He lay in the middle of the large bed, head turned as he admired Yan Xiaodao’s bare back. Simply devouring him with his eyes was enough to make him hard.
Yan Xiaodao’s athletic chest gleamed under the light as he climbed onto the bed and slowly gathered Ling He’s legs toward him. Ling He let out a soft, pleased breath and leaned back into a more comfortable position.
Yan Xiaodao lifted one of Ling He’s legs onto his shoulder and leaned forward, forcing Ling He’s legs apart.
Both men froze for a moment. What followed was a long, almost slow-motion exchange of looks, testing and reading one another, making certain the other still wanted to continue.
A thought suddenly struck Yan Xiaodao. He pulled back sharply and stared at Ling He. “Wait. You drank tonight too, didn’t you?!”
Ling He said, “…Just a few glasses of red wine.”
Yan Xiaodao said, “That still might make you uncomfortable. Let’s not.”
A blue vein shifted faintly along Ling He’s neck. One foot still hooked around Xiaodao as though unwilling to let him go. “The wine isn’t a problem. I’m fine. I want this.”
Yan Xiaodao still looked doubtful. “How about tomorrow?… The day after tomorrow works too. Any day can be our wedding night.”
Ling He had made up his mind, and his temper had always demanded that today’s business be finished today. Why drag it into tomorrow? Tomorrow could have its own plans, and tomorrow could be his turn. He refused any delay with absolute certainty. “Today.”
Yan Xiaodao broke into a grin. “Should I get a washbasin first and leave it beside the bed just in case?”
Ling He’s smile vanished. He put on a stern face. “Go on, then. Get the basin.”
“You really need one?” Yan Xiaodao looked him over. “You’re not going to throw up all over me, are you?”
Ling He swept a leg across the bed, and another bout of wrestling sent pillow feathers flying everywhere. At this rate, the brand-new pillows would end up hollow again. He lightly pinched Yan Xiaodao’s chin. “All this pointless talking is wasting your energy and affecting your hardness and stamina, Mr. Yan.”
Yan Xiaodao shifted over Ling He, pinning his flailing hands and feet, and smiled with confident, seductive ease. “Fine. Then try my hardness and stamina. I’m just afraid you won’t be able to handle it…”
Ling He narrowed his eyes. “I can’t handle it? Come on, then. Let’s see which one of us lasts longer.”
Their gazes tangled: Six rounds in and out? Bring it on.
Ling He was every bit as strong and solid himself. He stared at Yan Xiaodao in open challenge, daring him to prove just how long he could last and whether he could manage another six rounds.
……
……
The fire in the hearth burned fiercely. Whenever it died down, more wood was added and the flames rose again, only to slowly burn themselves out. The warmth of the night lingered.
The bed was hotter still than the fireplace.
The rims of Ling He’s eyes were flushed with a beautiful peach-blossom red.
They moved slowly, holding their breath as they drew each other close, then exhaled in long, deeply satisfied breaths.
Firelight filled the room. Together they burned down into the embers, spent at last.