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Jing Ran could count on his hand the number of people he's let close.
There is a rhythm to life—to Jing Ran's life, that requires a delicate balance, and the more people that join in, the more room there is for throwing it off. So, he keeps them at a distance. Because of this most people assume he's arrogant, finding him rude and pretentious. Never taking the time to see the world from his perspective.
His parents were the two he kept closest. His father had been his firmest supporter to explore and understand the world in his own way. After he passed, the world loomed large and unforgiving. So Jing Ran built walls around his heart to protect himself. Of course, his mother loves and supports him, though oftentimes she's a little too preoccupied with what Jing Ran should be doing and how she thinks he should do it. And while she means well, it can be frustrating.
He had thought after years of speaking with Zhenzhen he'd found someone who truly understood him and knew his heart. But Zhenzhen had loved an image of him that she built out of cobbled together bits and was disappointed when he wasn't who she imagined. With heavy chagrin and hindsight, Jing Ran could also admit that he had been blinded by his own need to feel a connection.
And then there is Hou Hao.
Undeterred by Jing Ran's defenses, Hou Hao seems to have made it his personal mission to break them down and pull Jing Ran out. Sneaky and confident, he burrowed his way deep behind the walls, a lone soldier within a stronghold, and made himself comfortable among Jing Ran's jagged edges.
Jing Ran can hardly recall a time before Hou Hao now. His life neatly bisected across two sides of a line: Before Hou Hao and After Hou Hao. It scares him as much as it excites him.
Hou Hao is everything Jing Ran is not. Personable, lively, effusive. What someone like Jing Ran has to offer Hou Hao he doesn't know. But whatever it is, Hou Hao has repaid it in patience, kindness, and an understanding that at first Jing Ran was skeptical to believe. Yet, not once did Hou Hao tell Jing Ran he was heartless, inflexible, or cruel. Instead, his friendship helped Jing Ran pull apart the tangle of his flaws and rise out of them as what he hoped was a better man.
Admittedly, it's nice to have a friend that seems to actually like him.
Thinking back on it, their first meeting was—regrettable, to say the least. Jing Ran still grimaces to remember.
After everything that had happened with Zhenzhen, Jing Ran had made the spontaneous decision to remove himself from Shanghai and take time to reflect. Though his mother seemed against the idea at first –insisting he "take Zhenzhen, I'm sure you can work it out"– she eventually relented and recommended Sanya as an exciting location to visit.
While the intention had been to take time off and relax, Jing Ran wasn't able to pull away from work entirely. He told himself it was a learning curve as he rushed back to his room for an afternoon video conference with a client.
It was in that moment that Jing Ran contemplated whether the coffee he'd gone to get had been worth it, as in his preoccupation he ran into someone and thus spilled it all down his front. That someone turned out to be Huo Hao, who apologized profusely, and tried to wipe down Jing Ran's ruined shirt with a rag. He'd patted frantically at Jing Ran, unaware of the trajectory of his efforts reaching too close to certain areas.
He remembered the hot flare of embarrassment as his hand snapped out and caught Hou Hao's wrist in a tight grip. Watched as Hou Hao's face was engulfed in a fiery blush once he realized what he'd done, stuttered apologies falling from his lips once more.
Jing Ran hadn't the time to properly deal with the situation nor would he truly want to if he had. So with a glare tossed at Hou Hao, Jing Ran had hurried off to hopefully change in time for his meeting.
When he next saw Hou Hao, Jing Ran had been by the pool with a book. He'd approached Jing Ran's table and held himself still with a curious amount of determination and a coffee cup in hand. With another apology and a bow, Hou Hao stalked off, leaving Jing Ran mystified that the coffee was his exact order.
After that, two encounters led to four, four led to random outings throughout the week, and those outings turned into seeing Hou Hao practically every day he had booked at Sanya. Until suddenly Jing Ran had been acquainted with Hou Hao for over a year.
During that time, he learned that Hou Hao was five years his junior, liked to sing and play guitar, he cooked very well, he was multi-talented, he cared deeply for his friends and was fiercely protective of them.
In turn, Jing Ran was more hesitant to share things about himself. He didn’t want to make the same mistakes, but Hou Hao had been patient and waited him out. He never expected to trust anyone again –at least not this much– but it felt so easy. Hou Hao with his bright smiles and breathy laughter became a comfort he was loath to forsake.
Now, their positions are the reverse from that fateful meeting. Jing Ran's wrist is the one caught as Hou Hao excitedly tugs him along through the tall brush. The stalks scratch against his bare arms, ever exposed at Hou Hao's insistence. "You have to dress for the occasion, Ran-ge. I've told you before, at Sanya you must experience all of its flavors and textures." Jing Ran always finds it hard to argue in the face of such warm earnestness; so he doesn't.
The advice holds true as the night remains heavy with moisture and anything more would have made it unbearable. A storm has just swept through, the first of the season according to Manager Lin, leaving behind the fresh scent of wet packed earth. Hou Hao had been practically vibrating while it passed, fidgeting constantly whenever he appeared behind Jing Ran. Evidently, he had been waiting for its departure, as he immediately ushered Jing Ran toward the ferry that would take them to Hou Hao's village the minute the winds had died down enough.
"Hou Hao," Jing Ran says a little breathless from the pace and trying adamantly not to trip. He's not ashamed to admit that he is a man of the city, thoroughly used to his creature comforts, especially electricity. Out here there's an unsettling silence that permeates the air without the hum of air conditioners or the drone of a car, and an impenetrable darkness that sets off a primal fear within him. At least the moon has begun to inch around the lingering clouds, providing some help in lighting the way. Not that Hou Hao seems to be having any trouble. "Where are we going?" He asks, tone both fond and exasperated.
In response, Hou Hao tosses him a very familiar smirk over his shoulder. Clearly, Jing Ran won't be getting any answers out of him. He rarely does as Hou Hao takes great pleasure in keeping things a surprise from Jing Ran.
With his thoughts preoccupied by all the times that smirk has led him into varying degrees of fun or trouble and wondering where this particular evening will fall, Jing Ran loses his footing and stumbles. Hou Hao reacts immediately by catching him with one arm around his chest, while the other grips his bicep firmly.
Jing Ran mutters a quiet thanks, hand coming up to pat Hou Hao's forearm. Nothing seems to be twisted, but he rotates his ankle all the same.
“Are you alright?” Hou Hao checks Jing Ran over with a serious face, his hands remaining respectfully on his shoulders this time.
Jing Ran smiles reassuringly and waves off his concern. “Yes, I’m fine. No need to worry.”
Hou Hao nods, before facing forward to carry on, but instead of wrapping his hand around Jing Ran's wrist like he expects Hou Hao to, he hooks his arm under Jing Ran's and laces their fingers together. Hou Hao seemingly thinks nothing of it as he casually pulls Jing Ran close to his side and starts walking again.
Jing Ran's heart skips a beat as he stares straight ahead. An odd, twisting feeling coiling in his belly. It isn’t unusual for Hou Hao to touch him. In fact, he is often a very tactile person. But something about this feels different than all the other touches. Well, he’s certainly never held your hand before, he reasons.
His mind can focus on little else but that point of contact. Hou Hao’s palm is incredibly warm against his and if he focuses hard enough, Jing Ran can feel the calluses on his fingers, proof of all his hard work. Even if he seems to have too much free time when Jing Ran is around, he thinks wryly. Jing Ran's fingers tighten without a thought as if testing the grip, making sure they're as snuggly trapped as they feel. A thrill runs through him as Hou Hao's fingers return the gesture.
"We're almost there," Hou Hao murmurs in assurance. Jing Ran’s heart stutters again as he blindly follows Hou Hao.
The low tone reminds Jing Ran of their calls when he’s back in Shanghai, the covers pulled over his head making it feel as if Hou Hao is there with him and not kilometers away. At his most tired, Jing Ran has been lulled to sleep by Hou Hao's voice as he talks about his day.
Having Hou Hao here in person is certainly a lot better than hearing him through a tiny speaker, Jing Ran thinks. Not—not that Jing Ran has had Hou Hao in his bed, that would be—
“We’re here!” Hou Hao announces triumphantly, coming to a stop with a flourish, looking particularly pleased with himself now that they've arrived and thankfully saving Jing Ran from himself. Jing Ran breathes a sigh of relief, hoping the dark is enough to hide the blush on his cheeks and takes stock of where they are.
‘Here’ is apparently a small stretch of open ground where the grass is significantly shorter than the path that led to it, almost as if someone cut it, and hugged by a half circle of trees. They're far enough inland that Jing Ran can't hear the rush and crash of the ocean surrounding the small island.
There doesn’t seem to be anything here in particular that would bring them out in the middle of the night, but it’s a shade better than that time they had gotten stranded on a sandbar and had to swim back to shore. Hou Hao still found it terribly funny and Jing Ran—refusing to agree on the basic principle that Hou Hao was insufferable when smug—disagreed.
“Hou Hao,” Jing Ran begins dubiously. He's never been opposed to Hou Hao's insistence on these excurisons exactly. Though the first few times Hou Hao had to physically drag him out of his hotel room with Jing Ran too absorbed in his work to consider going outside. But after a couple of disastrous outings, Jing Ran had tried to talk his way out of them and perhaps convince Hou Hao they could have more quiet evenings in.
Jing Ran distinctly remembers that first pout and how it had left him unsteady and pliable. The mischief and pleading a deadly mixture they both learned he couldn't resist. But more than that, there is something addicting about the way Hou Hao lights up that compels Jing Ran to acquiesce to his requests.
“Shh! Just wait!”
Jing Ran huffs a laugh, Hou Hao's enthusiasm washing away his very minuscule doubts.
The night around them remains unchanged. There is only the soft rustle of the grass as it sways in the breeze.
Just as he opens his mouth to speak, a sharp, shrill sound starts to their left. Jing Ran gasps. The sound is jarring after the near perfect silence. Another cry starts up across from it, just as loud. A third one echoes from further away, the cadence of it rises and falls in concert with the rest. Before long there is nothing but an undulating wave of chirps and clicks singing out to each other. Jing Ran, of course, has heard it before. Day or night these insects will sing, but in the city, it's near impossible to hear them over the hustle and bustle.
"It's beautiful, isn't it?" Hou Hao asks, and despite the wall of sound Jing Ran can still hear the wonder threaded through his voice.
This here, this ever present awe for the world around him, for life, even when it's hurt him, is one of Hou Hao's best qualities. Jing Ran wishes he could see the world through his eyes and feel that wonder. Maybe, if he spends enough time with Hou Hao, Jing Ran could learn to see what he sees.
"This sound was how our ancestors pinpointed the world was still turning. It tells us that life is moving forward. We're still here." Hou Hao shoots him a grin that makes Jing Ran's stomach flip before closing his eyes.
Jing Ran watches as Hou Hao tilts his head back and begins to hum, adding his own music into the mix. He's helpless to do anything but trace the lines of his face. The curve of his eye that leads to an expanse of creamy skin; the length of his nose that flows down to full lips; the sharp angles that culminate into a strong chin. All these features that Jing Ran greedily takes in. He'll need the reminder once he heads back to Shanghai.
An overwhelming sadness sinks its claws into Jing Ran's heart as he thinks about his encroaching departure. Each time, it gets harder and harder to climb into that taxi and watch as Hou Hao becomes a bright blur along the horizon.
One of these days he will have to convince Hou Hao to let Jing Ran pay for a ticket to come visit him. Jing Ran would love to see Hou Hao in Shanghai, against the shining backdrop of the city, among Jing Ran's everyday life. He could take him on a tour to all his favorite places, like that quiet park where all the flowering trees shed their blooms in the spring. Perhaps, he could introduce him to Jing Ran's mother (after Jing Ran wrestles a promise out of her to not be rude). Have him in his home, wake up every morning to that soft grin that makes his heart sing and lean forward to–
Oh.
Jing Ran swallows and faces forward quickly.
He hadn't realized -it wasn't his intention- but there's never intent when you fall in love, is there? It just—happens. Or that's what all the romance dramas imply anyway.
Jing Ran's experience in matters of the heart has been woefully inadequate. And yet it feels different than it had with Zhenzhen. More grounded, more sure. There's no race or competition. No one at his shoulder pressuring him to make a decision.
It's just him and Hou Hao.
Warmth suffuses his chest at the thought. He's often heard that friendship should be at the foundation of every relationship. What they have together can only deepen from here. Being with Hou Hao—being Hou Hao's boyfriend would be-
But what if Hou Hao doesn't feel the same? What if Jing Ran confesses and Hou Hao decides he no longer wants to speak to Jing Ran? A wave of despair washes through him, leaving behind tiny pinpricks of discomfort.
No. Hou Hao would never push him away for something so insignificant. But such a confession would lead to awkward interactions for sure.
Jing Ran won't risk their friendship. He'd been happy before this epiphany and he will remain so as long as he's with Hou Hao. His love for Hou Hao won't become a burden like his love has in the past.
A rustling behind him pulls Jing Ran from his spiraling thoughts. When he turns, Hou Hao is crouched on the ground and rummaging through a duffel bag. There's already a blanket laid out beneath his socked feet, one corner covered by a stack of containers no doubt filled with delicious food made by his own hands.
He’s still humming as he turns around with two camping lanterns that he proceeds to turn on and place strategically in such a way that the light casts pleasing lines across the blanket, while also providing enough light to see their food. It’s exactly how Jing Ran would have placed them.
Oh.
“Jing Ran–” A brief look of surprise crosses Hou Hao’s face at whatever Jing Ran's own features must be doing, but it’s immediately replaced by that smile. The one that Hou Hao gives him when he’s frustrated and working through a tough design. The one he wears as Jing Ran talks about his mother’s latest scheme involving his love life, chin in hand. The one he can hear in Hou Hao's voice as he falls asleep on their video calls bidding him a good night. The one that has always offered Jing Ran patience and acceptance and—something more.
It’s a smile that says Hou Hao has known and he’s just been waiting, as always, for Jing Ran to catch up.
“Ran-ge,” Hou Hao says gently, “Come sit.” The smile curves a little higher to one side as if to say, Figured it out, have you?
Jing Ran blinks away tears and nods quickly, too choked up to speak. The roller coaster ride of emotions has left him shaky and a bit dizzy. It's more than he could have ever hoped for. Despite seeing all the ugly pieces of him, Hou Hao does feel the same. Jing Ran takes a moment for himself as he removes his shoes and just breathes. Every memory with Hou Hao up to this point suddenly reveals a new depth. His ears heat to realize he's been so dense.
Hou Hao holds up his arm and waits as Jing Ran crawls over, a pleased sound falling from his lips as he tugs Jing Ran in close and knocks their heads together lightly.
Jing Ran tries to sneak a look at Hou Hao from the corner of his eye, but they're pressed too close together. All he can see is a blur of white and black. He settles into the curve of Hou Hao's body and waits.
They sit in silence for a time, the symphony of the night washing over them. The hum of the bugs is not unlike Jing Ran's mind at the moment: overwrought and filled with a cacophony of thoughts and feelings. At the forefront is a sense of shame.
"Why didn't you say anything?" The question falls from Jing Ran's lips unbidden. He grimaces as the tone is a little more petulant than he would have liked.
A hand enters his vision and grasps his own where it lies limp against his thigh, turning it over to expose his palm. Long fingers curl in a hesitant caress along his lifeline.
Hou Hao sighs. "Because we've both been unlucky in love and I didn't want to push you." Those mesmerizing fingers trail down to his wrist. Jing Ran fights down a shiver at the overwhelming intimacy of the touch. "I was scared in the beginning," Hou Hao continues, so quietly the words would be lost among the siren call of the night were it not for their proximity.
The honesty in those words hurts. He doesn't want Hou Hao to be afraid and never of Jing Ran. He would do anything to make sure Hou Hao is never afraid again. But he's right. They've both had their fair share of misfortune in this particular area. It's better to not have forced it. And really, he has no room to judge all things considered. Jing Ran can only offer a noise of sympathy and a silent promise to make it up to him.
"I could have distanced myself, might have saved myself some pain. But I like being with you. I like listening to you talk about your projects. I like to hear about whatever new hotpot restaurant opened up near your home. And sometimes I found myself asking, 'What would my life be like if you were in it every second of every day?' To tell you the truth, the answer wasn't much different than what we already have."
"I'm sorry, I-I didn't realize–" Jing Ran is quick to say.
They tilt back dangerously as Hou Hao lets out a boisterous laugh, his body shaking along Jing Ran's with the force of it. The angle finally affords him a glimpse of Hou Hao, eyes wrinkled in mirth and his heart gives a giddy leap at the sight.
After, Hou Hao sighs, long and content, pressing in close once more to rub their cheeks together. "What are you sorry for, ah? I would have been happy all the same to remain where I was, as long as I was by your side."
It shakes Jing Ran to his core that those self same thoughts he just entertained, are also those that Hou Hao holds. For a long while too, it seems. Hot tears slide down the sides of Jing Ran's nose and he quickly turns his face away so as to not ruin the moment.
"Aw, Ran-ge, don't be like that."
Hou Hao makes to lift his hand, but Jing Ran catches it. Before Jing Ran can lift his free hand to wipe his tears, he's left stunned when Hou Hao leans in and kisses the corner of his eye where the tears sit heavy. Jing Ran turns wide, wet eyes on Hou Hao, speechless.
Hou Hao smiles and uses their tangled hands to wipe at Jing Ran's cheek some more. With a soft laugh, Hou Hao tugs at Jing Ran's shoulder in warning. Easily accepting the request, he allows himself to be reeled in and tucked under Hou Hao's chin, melting into the comfort so readily given with a soft exhalation.
Within the circle of Hou Hao's arms a strong sense of right floods through him. Jing Ran hadn't noticed the weight of his heart until it suddenly felt so light it could take to the skies. He has craved that effortless wonder that Hou Hao pours out into the world, and here he finds himself, humbled and blessed by him. Jing Ran presses a smile into the skin beneath his lips.
“Thank you,” Jing Ran murmurs. Thank you for sharing this with me. Thank you for waiting. Thank you for your love.
“Of course.” Hou Hao presses a lingering kiss to Jing Ran’s hair. I’ll always wait for you.