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The sun is shining, the wind barely stirs the treetops and sends ripples through the water, distorting the shape of the mirrored branches hanging over the lake’s edge. A flock of ducks paddles lazily across the lake, taking turns dipping under the surface. It’s not the countryside, but on this late Tuesday morning, it feels like it could be. The early-morning joggers are gone, replaced by couples strolling idly along the lakeside path.
Gong Jun looks around, feeling mild concern pull his brows together. “Are you sure this is a good place? You said it’s a little tricky.”
Zhehan tuts from the ground, squatting as he fiddles with the bike Gong Jun is supposed to ride today. “I didn’t say it was tricky.” He adjusts the position of the bike’s front wheel before standing and tightening the nuts with brisk flicks of his wrist.
“Okay, you said it was a ‘little different,’ and ‘everyone falls over the first time they try to stop.’”
“No! Well, yeah, but you see, it’s actually much easier than the type on the spin bikes. So it won’t be tricky, just a little different than what you’re used to. You just have to get used to the motion—” Gong Jun tries valiantly to stifle a fond chuckle, watching Zhehan’s hands become more animated as he, once again, demonstrates the difference between toe clip placement types, why this one is superior to the kind on mountain and spin bikes (he thinks it’s spin bikes. Probably.), the relative ankle strength required to disengage from the clip—
At this point, Gong Jun is perfectly aware of how to disengage from the toe clip pedals. He’s also perfectly aware that he will forget the first time it comes up. On the other hand, he can’t think of anything he enjoys more than the light in Zhang Zhehan’s eyes as he explains the ins and outs of a topic he recently spent excessive hours of his precious free time researching enough to develop opinions on and then explain them in a logical (if slightly manic) fashion. Even the wildly specific divergences are educational. Although Gong Jun can’t quite summon the same level of passion about tubeless tires and doesn’t fully understand why they’re such a big deal, at least now he knows they exist and essentially what purpose they serve. He had even asked questions at the time, to Zhehan’s obvious delight.
By the third or fourth repeat explanation on this topic, however, even Gong Jun will admit to himself that his attention to Zhehan’s words has diminished, at best. Luckily, he is great at nodding and agreeing at just the right moments as he lets his mind wander, observing Zhehan. He’s all decked out in cycling gear, synthetic shirt unzipped all the way between his pecs for no particular reason, fingerless gloves waving about, and padded knee-length shorts adding some unusual geometry to his already supremely noticeable ass.
Gong Jun loves everything about it. He feels his lips part as they turn upward in a dopey smile. He doesn’t care if the onlookers watch him fall over in slow motion because this is all about Zhehan, isn’t it? And today, Zhehan really, really needs him to understand the enhanced cycling experience that clip-on pedals will definitely bring.
He clips his helmet on and adjusts his own clothing, a pineapple-patterned snap-up collared shirt that will be nice and airy, not to mention easy to undo when they head away from the lakeside path and up the nearby cliffs. Zhehan raises his seat a little and holds Gong Jun’s bike steady as he mounts and clips the first pedal in. It really is easy, after all—not that he doubted Zhang-laoshi for a second. He pushes off with his right foot and clips the second pedal in, simple as anything, and begins biking slowly, trying out the different gears as he gets used to the fancy road bike he’s pretty sure Zhehan borrowed from Susu.
Zhehan settles himself and kicks off with his ass in the air above the seat. He’s pedaling at an unnecessary pace, leaning forward onto the handlebars as he hustles past Gong Jun, bike seat rocking from side to side. Surely he doesn’t plan to ride this way the whole time? If so, why bother with the pants and the perfectly adjusted seat at all? He can’t expect Gong Jun to ride like that too, can he? Certainly not! In lieu of putting in extra effort, Gong Jun stares shamelessly at the glorious ass on full display before him as Zhehan rapidly shifts his weight from thigh to thigh.
“No showing off for beginners,” Gong Jun yells around the sudden dryness in his mouth, maintaining his own (very reasonable) speed exactly as before. But Zhehan is already putting his rear back in the saddle, slowing down as he stops pedaling altogether, gliding past the bobbing ducks. When he turns to face Gong Jun, adrenaline-fueled laughter is plain on his face. He’s too far away to really make out the flush that must be just starting to cover his cheekbones at the hairlines, but only just.
Gong Jun catches up at a reasonable pace and they ride together, away from the lake, the strollers, the ducks, without incident. They turn up a path out of the park and onto a lightly traveled, winding back road through rolling hills that will take them to the oceanside cliffs. Gong Jun had scouted this road online when Zhehan started talking about road biking day trips on the first day of their vacation. It’s exactly as promised—too inconveniently situated to be a desirable route for most motorists, a little on the narrow, hilly side but just gentle enough that anyone with both body and bicycle in decent shape could handle it. Zhehan sets the pace, allowing Gong Jun to ride behind him at a challenging but sustainable rhythm. Gong Jun tries to match his cadence, but it’s a bit much even with the clip-on pedals which, he is happy to discover, actually do make a world of difference. Every push and pull of his legs feels powerful, full of vigor. His bike is adjusted to exactly the right size, tuned up and responsive, flying lightly over the road on Gong Jun’s fuel alone. His lungs expand and contract in time with his feet (in-in-in, out-out-out). He thinks he might be humming tunelessly.
Eventually, Zhehan pulls off to the left and drops behind Gong Jun. They’re breathing in time, he notices as he takes the front spot, where the going seems much more difficult—has Zhehan been buffering a headwind for him this whole time? He drops a gear and focuses on maintaining his pace as they wind around a corner, passing a rocky beach and inhaling salty air. Zhehan passes him on the left, his ass back in the air as he powers past Gong Jun just before the road turns upward. “Gear down,” he shouts as he goes by. He’s unzipped his shirt entirely and both sides of it flap behind him, capelike.
“Drink water!” Gong Jun shouts back, dutifully shifting into the lowest gear on his left handlebar and adjusting the right to match. Zhehan pulls out his water bottle and drinks quickly before replacing it without disturbing his pedaling at all.
The road winds up the hillside for what feels like an eternity. Gong Jun shifts down, down, until he too is forced to rise out of the saddle, leaning into every downward push. He needs more air than his careful breathing will allow, so he opens his mouth and fills his lungs as much as possible. It would have been nice if he’d thought to open a couple more buttons on his shirt before starting up the climb, he realizes. Sweat drips through his hair and down his nose. His butt aches like the bones might be bruised—maybe he should have worn the silly padded shorts after all.
Finally, they reach the top of the hill. There’s a little scenic viewing spot, and Zhehan pulls off the road right by the grass. Gong Jun pedals exactly enough to glide up just behind him and comes to a halt.
He remembers about the clip-on pedals in exactly enough time to extract one foot before toppling over in slow motion. The bicycle lands on top of him and he lets out a reflexive ‘oof’ before realizing it weighs almost nothing, and the ground is actually pretty soft. “Oh my god,” he groans, lying in the grass and staring up at the seagulls. Are they circling closer to witness his shame? Probably. He’s still breathing heavily, still smiling. His legs are tingling and he thinks he just added another layer of muscle to his rear end within the last hour.
Zhehan lifts the bike up just enough that Gong Jun can extract his trapped foot before propping both bikes up against the little cliffside wall. Zhehan extends a hand downward, but Gong Jun isn’t interested in standing. He tugs, and Zhehan tumbles down easily on top of him, wrapping his arms around Gong Jun and pulling until they’re barrel rolling together down the gentle slope of the hill next to the cliff, squashing the wild sea grasses in their path.
They roll over together, and over, and over again, before coming to a rest with their arms and legs in a tangle. Gong Jun tucks Zhehan’s head into his chest and kisses his helmet. “I knew you said everyone falls the first time,” he says.
“Maybe I did,” Zhehan admits, as his hands curl around Gong Jun to cup his un-padded butt and give it a little squeeze. “But now you’ve fallen once and you won’t make the same mistake again.”
Gong Jun tucks the loose end of Zhehan’s shirt underneath him, an ineffective barrier against the pokey grass. “Maybe you’ll just find new and interesting ways to help me fall next time,” he says, just for the pleasure of seeing Zhehan roll his eyes. Delightfully, he also punctuates the eyroll with a light slap on the ass. Gong Jun has no choice but to lean down and kiss him on the mouth in response. It’s a challenge with the helmets on and frankly very uncomfortable, so he unclips his and sets it aside before kissing Zhehan’s nose too.
“Salty?” Zhehan asks with a grin. He’s absolutely drenched in sweat, maybe even more than Gong Jun, but for once, it looks like he’s loving it.
“Delicious,” Gong Jun counters. He removes Zhehan’s helmet as well so they can make out for real, under the sun and the gentle breeze, cradled in the grassy hill. Closing his eyes, he revels in the beating of their hearts and the mingling of their shared breath on Zhehan’s soft lips. His hand is behind Zhehan’s neck, brushing away the sweaty hair stuck to his skin. He lets his fingers dig in and massage the strain out of the tense tendons he finds, feeling Zhehan relax beneath him from head to toe.
“Stay with me,” he whispers, full of affection and adrenaline, his grip on Zhehan tightening as he realizes a sudden, consuming need to hold onto this moment as long as possible, to keep Zhehan away from the cares and trials of the world outside this one small place.
Zhehan doesn’t answer for a moment, just runs his hands up and down Gong Jun’s sides, around his shirt collar, brushing his fingers into the unbuttoned dip of his chest.
“I’ll always be here with you,” he says finally, then sends Gong Jun onto his back with a firm kiss and they roll again in the grass, bathing in sweat and sun, wondering at the powerful joy that brought them here together and, throughout everything, will keep them holding on.