Chapter Text
He Tian smells like the expensive herbal shampoo from the little shower shelf in his bathroom. The very same bottle that Guanshan had used last night.
Shampoo, shower gel, deodorant... laundry detergent, fabric softener... and the faint hint of cigarette smoke. They smell the same today. And yet it's different. Their skin each carrying their unique, underlying scent mixed with different emotions.
He Tian - happy and grounded, oozing out confidence, not giving a fuck that people see them in this awkward display of affection.
Guanshan - embarrassed and way too self-conscious, hiding his face in He Tian's dark, soft hair, trying to pull the neckline of his jacket deeper over his head like a puppy hiding from the rain.
How could He Tian pick him up like this? Without a care in the world, easy and effortless, steady, not swaying even once. As if Guanshan wouldn't weigh more than a feather.
Being so close - it's almost too much, too overwhelming. The shell of He Tian's ear brushing against his cheek, the firm grip on his thigh, just below his ass, that strong arm supporting his complete weight. It makes Guanshan wonder what kind of a man He Tian will become in a few years from now. Will he grow even taller? Shoulders broader than ever before? Upper arms thick and muscular, the size of Guanshan's thighs?
He Tian's steps are even and certain, taking them further and further away from the school buildings. He can hear some other students chatting around them, the sound slowly drowned out by the rustling of leaves in the trees and the traffic from the street they approach. He'd have to put him down soon, any moment now. He just has to, otherwise—
Guanshan closes his eyes, his left arm, the one holding on to He Tian's shoulder for support, tightens for a long second. He angles his face, nose buried in a sea of soft hair, his thighs around the other one's body, painfully aware of his crotch being pressed against He Tian's waist.
It's like hugging him, warm and comforting, full of good things and Guanshan allows himself to get carried away for a moment. Literally, figuratively.
And then it's over. He Tian's steps come to a halt and his arm lowers carefully, his other hand supporting Guanshan's side, who's slowly sliding down his hip until his feet touch the ground again.
For an awkward moment they remain like this before Guanshan remembers to let go. He takes a step back, the photograph in his hand slightly crumpled. He gives it one last glance, then shoves it into his pocket with a hasty gesture.
A quick look around tells him that nobody is here. They're alone by the high fence, the school gates won't open until late afternoon. He Tian is just staring, the hint of a smile on his lips, then he lifts the strap of his bag over his head and throws the whole bag over the fence with ease.
What follows is so familiar that Guanshan thinks it's a deja-vu. He Tian backs up, takes a few long, quick steps towards the stone pillar, feet barely touching the surface for longer than a second each, his hands already reaching for the top, pulling himself up.
Guanshan can only stare. The whole thing doesn't take longer than three or four heartbeats and before he has time to think about what mess they're gonna get themselves into again, his body already starts moving on its own. He jogs towards the fence, jumps up the pillar, He Tian extends his arm and catches his hand with a firm grip, pulling him up effortlessly.
Guanshan almost causes them to fall off the other side, holding on to He Tian's shoulders, the space up here way too small for two people.
His heart beats in his throat, the small spike of adrenaline rushing through his veins.
He Tian steadies him, leans back to take a look at his face.
"You alright?"
" 'course I'm alright", he grumbles back and looks sideways, avoiding his gaze.
One amused chuckle later and He Tian jumps down, his knees bending when his feet hit the ground, body flexible, movements smooth and strong like a big cat.
Like a panther, Guanshan thinks and watches him turn around and look up, arms open and inviting, ready to catch him.
The sight of it touches something deep inside of him. Something he's not ready to analyze yet. He lets out his breath in a sharp huff and jumps.
As expected, He Tian catches him, facile and secure. The force of the impact - completely absorbed by his arms and chest. Guanshan's shoes don't even touch the grass until the other one sets him down. Again.
This time though, he retreats immediately, brushing off invisible dust from his arms and thighs. Just something to keep himself busy while He Tian picks up his bag and shoulders it.
"Come", he says and grabs Guanshan's wrist, dragging him along when he starts walking towards the sideway. "I know a great place for lunch."
Guanshan nearly trips and half-heartedly tries to free himself from the casual grip. "H-hey...! I don't even have my wallet on me..."
"No need. I said it's on me."
He opens his mouth to protest and closes it again after realizing that, yes - he is hungry. Last night's 'dinner' has been looming over him all morning like a heavy rain cloud.
He remembers it in vivid detail: The sight of it - disgusting.
The gesture? He'd rather not think too deeply about it.
It's the thought that counts, is what his mom would say. But good intentions don't fill him up. They're not able to ease the queasy feeling in his stomach after going without food for nearly a whole day. They are, however, enough to make Guanshan feel guilty. And guilt is still sitting in a gray locker. Red and big and heavy and expensive with a custom paint job.
How will he ever be able to repay He Tian? How will he ever be able to express his gratitude? And how can he accept such a gift?
The answer is as simple as it is shattering: He can't.
He has to tell him, even if it will hurt them both. But how could he live with the knowledge of owing He Tian so much more than he could ever give back?
He looks down at their meeting point. He Tian's long fingers no longer wound around his wrist but holding his hand, thumb pressing against his palm, slowly stroking, gently almost.
Guanshan extracts himself from this level of intimacy, his ears are burning.
He Tian slows down, one step to the side, falling into his pace right next to him.
There it comes. The arm around his shoulder. Expected and familiar like an old friend. Guanshan doesn't fight it, resignation kicking in. Instead he busies himself with thinking up excuses why he can't accept the guitar.
It should be simple, easy like saying 'No, thank you' when being offered unwanted leaflets at the mall. Polite, empty words without any meaning behind it, the person already forgotten by the time the next shop window comes into sight.
But it's not. Nothing about this is simple or easy and just thinking this over makes him feel exhausted. He Tian is exhausting, too. Demanding, obtrusive, poised. Then again, he's also kind and supportive and protective. And for some strange, unfathomable reason he's into him. Guanshan of all people. It's something that he can't quite grasp yet and he knows he's already spent way too much time thinking about it:
During class when he's zoning out while the teacher carries on with her lecture.
During his shifts when he doesn't have to deal with customers directly, instead performing some mindless activity like sorting fruit or stacking crates.
In his bed at night when he has trouble falling asleep, the image of a certain face forever burned into his memory, an imprint on the surface of his brain, ever present and immensely distracting.
All this thinking, all this careful consideration and here he can't come up with a reasonable explanation for He Tian. It seems easier finding a four-leafed clover in the meadows with the size of several stadiums.
"This is it", He Tian's voice breaks his train of thoughts and Guanshan looks up, brushes the arm off his shoulder.
They're at the food market and it's already packed. Lunch time.
There are people buying fresh meat, tofu and vegetables, planning to cook at home. Others are queuing up at stalls or small restaurants to grab a quick bite during their lunch break. There are children running around, playing catch. Dogs barking in the back, vendors shouting prices and customers walking by, laughing, talking loudly over the buzz of different noises.
Guanshan stops for a moment. He can smell the different foods and dishes being prepared, the fragrance of spices and roasted flavor in the air. He can hear TVs and radios from some market stalls, plastic chairs scraping over asphalt as people get up or sit down.
He Tian weaves through the crowd with ease and he's tall enough that Guanshan never loses sight of that black shock of hair. He follows him, squeezing past some older students and mothers with lots of shopping bags; the rhythmic chopping of meat and poultry on large wooden blocks a constant companion.
He wonders if He Tian has a particular restaurant in mind or if he just wants to eat in this area and picks a place at random.
Guanshan has been here before. Mostly late at night when stalls are about to close up so he can get a good deal on leftover meat and vegetables.
Right now though, he follows He Tian into a tiny shop with only four small tables inside, a cooker in the front and a narrow bar with two fridges at the back.
They sit down on the table in the far right corner - the only free one, the surface full of used bowls, empty cups and circle-shaped stains.
Without a word, He Tian starts stacking the bowls and cups into one another. He gets up and hands them to an elderly lady who approaches them with a wet cloth to clean the table. She apologizes and He Tian assures her that it's no big deal.
Guanshan watches in silence as He Tian is actually wiping the surface of the stained, worn-out table clean.
He disappears for a minute, then returns with two glasses of iced tea.
"If you're trying to impress me—"
"Is it working?"
Guanshan closes his eyes. "Dream on."
He Tian kicks his bag further towards the wall under the table and sets the glasses down. "What do you want to eat?"
With a tired gesture Guanshan rubs over his eyes and turns half around in his seat, neck craning to see what they're even cooking in the front.
"I don't really care", he finally says. "Just anything..."
"Roasted duck?", He Tian asks and Guanshan shrugs. "Yeah, why not."
He sits by the table brooding while He Tian gets their lunch and by the time the other one returns, Guanshan's mood has hit rock bottom.
He Tian offers him a bowl with white rice, steamed pak choi and a generous amount of sliced meat. Guanshan takes it off him and reaches for the pair of throw-away chopsticks which lie on top across the chipped bowl. A quick glance to the other bowl tells him He Tian is having noodle soup with some chicken feet gently bobbing up and down in it. He disappears again and returns quickly with a tray of dumplings for himself and a small bowl of broth for Guanshan.
He Tian sits down, his chair noisily scraping over the concrete while he jerks closer, his legs too long under the table, knees bumping into Guanshan's.
Guanshan tries to ignore it and grabs the hot sauce, squeezing a good amount over his dish. He Tian takes the bottle directly off his hands when he's done and drenches his dumplings in the red liquid before picking one up with his chopsticks and putting it into Guanshan's bowl.
"Try them. They're amazing here."
Guanshan stares at the food. He looks at it and yet he can't see, his vision unfocused, mind occupied with different matters.
He Tian starts eating, chatting away, pointing around with his chopsticks when he's not using them to pick up food. Guanshan doesn't listen.
He looks up when He Tian lightly kicks him under the table.
"What's up?", he asks easily, bowl lifted in front of his face to drink a mouthful of soup before setting it back down. "Thought you would be hungry."
Slowly Guanshan looks around. Everyone around them is busy, rushing around, short on time. He smells the oil from the frying pan, hears the loud chatter and the clattering of dishes and the sizzling of water on hot surface. His gaze wanders back to their table and his own food, untouched, the pak choi surely cold by now.
"I...", he shakes his head, unconsciously licks his lips, fingers playing with the chopsticks nervously. "I can't accept it."
He Tian frowns and gives him a weird look. "It's just lunch. But you can pay me back if that makes you feel better."
"Not the lunch, idiot!", Guanshan hisses back and smacks his chopsticks down on the table in anger. Is He Tian playing with him or is he really that dense?
"The damn guitar! Take it back!"
"Can't", the other one replies and noisily chews on his last dumpling. "Plus it has your name on it."
"I don't care. You put me in an awkward position. Do you ever think before you act?!"
He Tian finally puts his chopsticks down and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand before reaching for the slim glass of tea, droplets of condensation running down the outside. He drinks almost all of it in large gulps and Guanshan can't help but watch his larynx move with each big swallow. It's fascinating somehow and he imagines putting his fingertips over the smooth skin and directly feeling the movements. Small motions, like its own pulse, the slow steady heartbeat of a resting beast of prey.
Annoyed by his own thoughts, he crosses his arms in front of his chest and looks anywhere but at He Tian, whose gaze he can clearly feel on his body. It makes the little hairs on his forearms stand up.
"I do", He Tian finally replies, his legs moving in between Guanshan's, stretching until his feet are under the other chair, crossed at the ankle.
"I've been doing nothing but thinking these past few days", he adds and fingers a squashed pack of cigarettes out of his pocket, places it on the table. "You're really not going to eat?"
With a sudden movement Guanshan sits up straight, quickly grabs a slice of roasted duck with his fingers and pops it into his mouth. He chews, swallows, looks at He Tian with a deadpan expression.
It tastes nice, but he can't appreciate the flavor when his stomach feels like it's going to drop down on the floor any minute. There's a dull ache which keeps spreading across his insides and he thinks he's going to be sick.
He Tian plays with his lighter in a lazy fashion. Flicks open the cap of the silver zippo and snaps it shut with a flick of his wrist. He keeps repeating it over and over again, staring at Guanshan, the slightest smile dancing around his lips. He doesn't say anything, looks like he knows a secret or two, and Guanshan finds it unnerving. His right foot starts tapping on the ground in a fast-paced rhythm, his leg slightly rubbing against He Tian's knee this way.
"Why are you nervous?"
"Who says I'm nervous?"
"Your body language."
"Fuck off!"
Guanshan doesn't want to be here. Not with He Tian. Currently he wants to be as far away as possible from him. The other one's presence is too much. It's like He Tian is filling out the whole room and it's causing Guanshan to think about things he's not yet ready to commit to. It's hard to concentrate on anything else, hard to breathe.
He needs to get out of here.
tbc