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The best thing about the World Glory Competition, Sun Xiang thinks, as dusk trails its fingers across them — the best thing besides winning, of course — is the little window of time they’re granted between the finals and being sent back home.
Last year, he’d appreciated being able to blend, unknown and insignificant, into an unfamiliar city’s crowds.
This year, he appreciates being able to hold his boyfriend’s hand without anyone giving a damn. Even if he has to go hiking — of all fucking things — to do so.
Still, he's pretty relieved when the end of their hike is in sight; he's definitely glad when Zhou Zekai tugs him to a standstill and gazes out at the scenery before them. Sun Xiang takes a moment to catch his breath. He’s willing to concede that the landscape is very picturesque, though he would never walk all the way up here to look at it for himself; the sun has almost set, leaving muted colours in its wake, spilling pinks and golds across the mountains beyond the one they're finally on top of. It's nice, but he turns to watch Zhou Zekai instead, delighting in the joy blooming across his face.
Zhou Zekai squeezes his hand. ‘Beautiful’, he says.
‘Yeah,’ Sun Xiang agrees, eyes on Zhou Zekai.
‘How are you two still so cute?’ Chu Yunxiu coos. She’s grinning far too much as she checks out the view, which may or may not include Zhou Zekai and Sun Xiang. When Sun Xiang rolls his eyes at her, she simply laughs and continues walking, Su Mucheng following closely in her wake. The women head down the track towards the cabins they’ve rented for the night; the rest of the team’s voices drift up from behind the treeline.
Su Mucheng gives Sun Xiang an exaggerated wink as they go.
He pretends not to see; he turns his attention back to Zhou Zekai, instead.
Zhou Zekai looks from the sunset to their teammates. He looks from their teammates to Sun Xiang. His face pinkens, just a little, at the warmth of Sun Xiang’s expression.
Sun Xiang used to resent how easily his face broadcasts his feelings. He doesn’t mind it as much nowadays; at least, not when it’s Zhou Zekai studying him. He likes the way Zhou Zekai looks at him and reads how he’s feeling. He likes the way Zhou Zekai steps closer, wraps his free hand at the nape of Sun Xiang’s neck, leans in, and kisses him.
They kiss easily, comfortably, here beneath the pastel sky and the low, golden light. They kiss, warm and soft and sweet. It’s a promise, like all of their kisses are. It’s a reminder, too, of why Sun Xiang had embarrassingly indulged all their teammates’ shameless demands, just to win himself and Zhou Zekai the only double bed cabin that had been available when Yu Wenzhou was booking their stay. They kiss, and Zhou Zekai’s hands wander up into Sun Xiang’s hair, while Sun Xiang’s hands settle at Zhou Zekai’s waist.
Sun Xiang’s heart is racing by the time they part, but he feels steady, too. This is where he belongs now, afterall: in Zhou Zekai’s arms, at Zhou Zekai’s side— wherever Zhou Zekai is. This is where he’s going to belong forever, he’s increasingly sure.
He smiles, raises their joined hands to his mouth, and brushes a kiss across Zhou Zekai’s knuckles. ‘Come on,’ he says. ‘You know those bastards will eat all the good food if we let them.’
Zhou Zekai grins.
The path stretches on before them; they walk it together.