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Jim can feel Wen’s gaze on him. Even though his eyes are fixed on the TV, he can tell Wen is looking up at him from the pillow resting in his lap, where Wen has laid his head.
He’s obviously waiting for Jim to look back so he can talk—and that’s exactly why Jim keeps his focus on the movie in front of him. Wen stirs and sighs when that doesn’t seem to catch his attention.
The corner of Jim’s lip fights to pull up, and Wen knows him as well as Jim knows him, because he clicks his tongue, grabbing Jim’s chin to make him look down. Jim allows it, no longer fighting his smile.
“Yes?”
Wen rolls his eyes, clearly for show, before his expression softens into the picture of innocence. “If I lost my memory, would you try to make me fall for you again?”
“You know the main character is only pretending to have lost his memory, right? It’s the whole point of the movie.” He snorts a laugh when Wen only arches an eyebrow at him. “I don’t know, it depends. What if you thought you were a teenager again? That would be out of the question.”
“What if I lost my memories from a year before we met onwards?”
“Then you’d still think you were dating Alan, and I don’t think Gaipa would be very happy about it.”
“Okay, but imagine I lost my memory just about you.”
“That’s a very specific kind of amnesia.” He laughs when Wen starts to sit up, pulling him back down to lie in his lap. “Okay, okay. You lost your memories about us, I get it.”
Wen waits a second, studying him with narrowed eyes, like he expects Jim to try to rile him up again. Eventually, he nods, asking again, “Would you chase me?”
Jim slides his hand into Wen’s hair, lazily playing with it. “Obviously.” A smile takes over Wen’s well-drawn lips, and Jim cocks his head to the side. “Were you expecting me to say no?”
“Not really.” Wen shrugs. “But it’s still nice to hear. I was the one doing most of the flirting the first time.”
“Will you ever let that go?”
“After the effort I put in? Never.” Wen reaches for Jim’s free hand, resting on his chest, and intertwines their fingers. “How would you do it?”
“We’re missing the movie again.”
“And who was at fault the first time? Kissing me and putting your hand—”
“And who started kissing my neck before that?”
“How would you do it?” Wen lightly slaps his chest. “No teasing.”
Jim gives an exasperated sigh, letting his head fall back against the couch to look at the ceiling. “I don’t know. I’ve never been good at making the first move.” He looks back at their hands, watching his wedding band glint in the low light. “My body doesn’t look like it did on our first night, so I couldn’t go that route.”
That makes Wen frown. “What are you talking about? I think you’re super hot.”
“I know, but the version of you you’re talking about wouldn’t be in love with me.”
It’s not that he consideres himself unattractive by any means, but as a man well into his forties, his body just doesn’t respond to effort the way it once did. He still puts in the work, but his former physique is something he simply can’t realistically maintain anymore.
“You’re objectively hot.” Wen’s tone leaves no room for argument. “The number of people who flirt with you is proof enough.”
Jim scoffs. “They’re not flirting with me.”
“Oh yes, they are. Right in front of me too. But back to business: you were about to tell me how you’d sweep me off my feet.”
“I really don’t know…”
Even imagining it feels unpleasant. The idea of Wen looking at him with empty eyes, as if he were just a stranger and nothing had ever happened between them, makes Jim’s stomach twist. What they have now is more than anything Jim of the past would’ve dared to dream about. Wen isn’t just his partner—he is his home. He is a part of Jim, laced into every decision, every routine, every thread of what made his life what it is. The idea that all of it could mean nothing to Wen is a punch to the gut.
A finger gently brushes the space between his brows, making him realize the tension in his face. Wen is looking up at him, a soft smile on his lips.
“I think I would end up falling for you anyway.” His voice is warm, obviously trying to keep Jim from spiraling. “I was just curious. You don’t have to answer.”
Jim stops running his fingers through Wen’s hair to reach for his hand, bringing it to his lips to place a kiss on his knuckles. “I’d start over if I needed to.”
Wen pauses at his answer. Then he smiles, snuggling a little closer. “How?”
“I’d ask you out.” He says it with a certainty that surprises even himself, but he knows it’s true. “Make your favourite dish, watch our favourite movie. If you were open to it, I could tell you about us before the amnesia.”
“What if I were still hesitant?”
“Then I’d keep trying. Invite you on walks so you could get to know me. Make sure you knew you could count on me for anything. Bring you flowers…”
“That’s false advertising. We never give each other flowers.”
Jim gives him a playful look. “Is that a complaint? Should we start?”
“No. They’re too expensive and die right away.”
“My point is,” Jim continues, looking down at Wen with a small smile, “unless you told me to get lost, I wouldn’t give up.”
Wen’s eyes turn soft, his gaze a tender caress across Jim’s features. “So persistent, hm?”
Leaning down, Jim places a small kiss on Wen’s forehead, letting his lips linger as he speaks, “Learned from the best.”
As he pulls back, Wen’s eyes bore into his, a grin stretched across his face. They stay quiet for a moment, and just when Jim is about to suggest rewinding the movie, Wen shoots up so fast it almost makes him dizzy. Before he can react, Wen grabs his hand and tugs him to his feet.
“Where are we going?” he asks, already being pulled toward the stairs.
“Where do you think? To the bedroom,” Wen says, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “You can’t just say stuff like that.”
Jim feels a smile tug at his lips. He waits until Wen is on the first step before pulling him back, turning him around. At Wen’s questioning look, Jim closes the distance between them. His hands settle on Wen’s hips as he leans in and presses a small kiss to Wen’s Adam’s apple.
“And what exactly are we going to do in the bedroom?”
Wen’s eyes gleam when he pulls back, his smile so suggestive it has to be some kind of sin. He leans in, lips close enough that Jim can feel his breath when he answers.
“Memories.”