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“What’s this?”
Huaisang sits back and blinks at Jiang Cheng as his brain comes sluggishly back online. They had been kissing in the back seat of Huaisang’s car, and he really, really likes kissing Jiang Cheng, particularly as he had become a lot more comfortable, and thus more confident, in the months since they decided to be a thing (as yet unnamed but more than friends who make out sometimes when they’re bored).
“What’s what?”
Jiang Cheng runs his hand through Huaisang’s hair, further pulling it out of the half-bun he’d tied up. Silky strands brush his neck, which is really a shame because Huaisang specifically tied his hair up to tempt Jiang Cheng, who is now tracing a ragged line that begins about an inch from his scalp and travels another couple inches under his hair.
“It’s a scar,” Huaisang says. He gently pushes Jiang Cheng’s hand aside and leans in, eager to resume their previous activities, but Jiang Cheng deflects.
“Hold still,” he says as he removes Huaisang’s hair tie and separates the strands with a gentle touch. He traces the scar again, mesmerized.
“A-Cheng.”
Jiang Cheng hums in response and traces over the scar again and again.
“Jiang Cheng, baby, don’t take this the wrong way,” Huaisang says, “but are you high right now?”
“What?” Jiang Cheng frowns at him. “No, why?”
“Oh, I don’t know. Maybe because we were having a very pleasant time and then you just stopped, and now you’re, like, obsessed with my scar.”
“I never noticed it before.” Jiang Cheng’s frown deepens. “I thought I knew all your scars.”
“Oh, haha, no, yeah, that’s a pretty old one,” Huaisang says. He suddenly feels shy, awkward in a way he hasn’t felt with Jiang Cheng in years.
“How’d you get it?” Jiang Cheng asks. He finally stops touching it, but instead of going back to the kissing, he puts an arm around Huaisang and settles back against the seat, tucking Huaisang in close to him.
Huaisang sighs. “Second grade. This little shit, Jimmy, pushed me off the top of the slide. I whacked my head on the ladder on the way down.”
“Holy shit!”
Huaisang shrugs. “The worst part was getting blood all over my favorite shirt.” He smiles to himself. “It was this really awesome shirt with planets and stars.”
“What’d the teacher do?”
“Mr. Stover? Eh, he told me to man up. That chicks dig scars.”
“What the fuck?” Jiang Cheng sits up, dislodging Huaisang as if he were about to go chase down Jimmy or Mr. Stover or both and beat the shit out of them.
“Aye, it’s alright, A-Cheng.” He presses his back against Jiang Cheng’s chest until he gets comfortable. He tugs his arm over his shoulder and links their hands. “Besides, it was, like, ten years ago.”
“Tell me your brother at least did something.”
“My mother,” Huaisang replies, his voice going soft. “When she left the parent meeting, both Mr. Stover and Jimmy’s dad looked...haunted.” He laughs. “Actually, da-ge did have a little chat with Jimmy. Jimmy avoided me for the rest of elementary school.”
“Good,” Jiang Cheng says, with the tone of someone who thinks it’s very much not good and that he is contemplating how to enact vengeance while making it look like an accident.
“I love you,” Huaisang blurts out.
Jiang Cheng freezes for the barest fraction of a second before he leans down and drops a kiss on the scar. “I, uh, love you, too,” he says, squeezing Huaisang’s hand.
Huaisang grins and looks up at him. “So, are you gonna go back to kissing me,” he asks, “or should we just call it a night?”
Jiang Cheng returns his grin. “I take it back,” he says, turning Huaisang around. “You’re terrible.” He gets a biting kiss in before Huaisang smacks him. “I don’t know what I ever saw in you.”
“I’m told scars are sexy,” Huaisang retorts. He cuts off Jiang Cheng’s snarky reply with a kiss. “Maybe you’ll show me all of yours someday.”
“Mmm, maybe I will.”