Work Text:
Now all Gao Zhi could think of was him. Just brushing past him. Feeling his presence, twirling his fingers in his hand, the stroke of a single kiss. An effect he had only ever felt before for a woman—multiple women. Yet this time it was intense, unnerving. Like a crush; a limerence—a fascination. If it was anything like before, he wanted to know everything: his family, his interests, and he would take any glance, any action, as full-on confirmation of the same attraction. It was completely turned upside down.
He had let him touch him so easily, without any sense of resistance except for one jerk of confusion. He just let him, like he was someone meant to be touched. He would never do that for anyone else, especially not anyone at work.
He should express his feelings. Although he remembered nothing of that night, he could still sense the stillness of his lips—they were there, like a reminder. It was all him. He wanted to know the exact words, not the paraphrased lines. He must’ve said something more—something whole.
He caught Jiang Yi Jie off guard. It was impressive how fast he could move by simply jumping all over him, touching him freely.
“Senior!” he yelled, practically eating out his eardrums.
Jiang Yi Jie perked up from where he was, feeling his touches elapse throughout his upper half.
He turned. “Gao Zhi Yao, what do you want?”
Realizing his colder expression, Gao Zhi Yao let go, stepping back just a tiny bit to give space.
“Um,” he mumbled, the previous thoughts leaving him with nothing but random mutters.
“Hm?”
“Uh…”
“If you have nothing to say…”
“I—uh. What was it?” He scrunched his face, his thoughts blowing past him, leaving him with no speech.
“Listen. I don’t have time for this. Not right now.”
He tried to move away until Gao Zhi Yao called his name.
“No, wait!” He held out his hand. “Come here.”
For some reason, like he had no free will, he followed Gao Zhi Yao’s request. He crossed his arms, glaring at him.
“What did I say exactly that day?”
Jiang Yi Jie scoffed, uncrossing his arms as a smile crept onto his lips.
“You want to know?”
“Yes.”
Jiang Yi Jie glanced around, closing in on Gao Zhi Yao.
“Well. You said…”
—
“That’s it. I won’t like what I’m going to say because… I’ve never revealed it before. To anyone. But I want to now.”
“I like you, Senior.”
Gao Zhi Yao’s voice deepened in contrast, as if a rage were filling him.
“Because I would never say it! Don’t you understand?”
He gazed down, his feet feeling a coldness entrap him: rejection.
“I know how you would react.”
“That’s what I mean by ‘I like you,’ Senior. That’s what I mean. You understand?”
—
When did I become such a romantic?
Communication was all they really needed. But both were stubborn—annoyingly so. When Gao Zhi Yao realized the true importance of his words, and that night in specific, he almost began to hit himself. He was stupid.
Jiang Yi Jie looked at him so earnestly, like there was yearning in his eyes—like he wanted to kiss him. But his own feelings of rejection stopped him from doing anything out of the ordinary. He responded, half-jokingly, “You’ve said those before. To other people. Like you said—you’ve done it before.”
A hint of jealousy or irritation elapsed through his words, inching toward his own feelings. But Gao Zhi Yao just stood and looked at him, shame shaping throughout him. He scratched his ear and bit his lip.
“I wasn’t the only one.”
Why did he care so much? Not even Jiang Yi Jie would admit it. In the heat of the conversation, Gao Zhi Yao asked, quietly, “Does that matter?” A feeling of coldness compressed his stomach.
Jiang Yi Jie faked a laugh, his laughter so loudly fake he almost knocked himself out.
“You’re so cruel, you know that?”
“What do you mean?”
Everything.
“It doesn’t matter.”
“Just because I say it doesn’t matter doesn’t mean you shouldn’t respond!”
His tone turned violent; it was cute in a way. By the looks of Gao Zhi Yao and his past history, it was better not to call him that. But Jiang Yi Jie couldn’t resist thinking it.
“Okay. If it does matter, what would you say?”
“Well, I don’t know. But I guess if you want to say it doesn’t matter, then it doesn’t.”
You’re so cruel. What the fuck does that mean?
The anger showed in his face, rising in him like he were a pan of water over a flame. It was increasing.
“But calling me cruel—you’re the cruel one for that.”
Jiang Yi Jie couldn’t believe his ears and responded in the same tone and pace: “How is that cruel? You are the cruel one! You…”
He paused, sighing, relieving any of his bottled-up emotions.
“You let me touch you in the infirmary, last week...”
Gao Zhi Yao knew he would bring that up. Nevertheless, he continued to fight his side.
“Now are you going to say you let everyone touch you?”
“No!”
At this point they looked like children fighting at recess. Nothing was coming out of this, and nothing would. Besides, maybe distance was all they needed to keep themselves at bay.
“What’s the point? This is going nowhere.”
“It’s going nowhere because you keep hurting me.”
Like a cry at the end, it felt like it was hardening inside him. Rejection was painful. But it was even more painful that he couldn’t consider it a full rejection, since Gao Zhi Yao was keeping all of his true thoughts away.
“Hurting you?”
He scorned, “Yes!”
“How?”
He got in his face, pointing his finger directly at his nose.
“By saying… by saying you do this to everyone! To whoever. It’s like… like you’re acting like a player, okay? Like that kiss meant nothing.”
“I don’t remember it!” He inched his face forward, their faces nearly touching.
“But it happened! It happened…”
His voice turned quiet, like the lack of movement was hurting him more. A lost cause. But a cause that kept being brought up. If he were an inmate, he would be beating Gao Zhi Yao up.
“Just say what you feel. Because you said, verbatim, ‘Because I would never say it! Don’t you understand?’ What does that mean?”
Jiang Yi Jie stepped back, his whole body feeling a sudden exhaustion. A sigh left him.
He got him there. He said he would never reveal it; he would never say it. It was like he genuinely liked him but felt he shouldn’t. By refusing and denying the truth, Jiang Yi Jie was erupting into a depression.
“I… I don’t know! I think—maybe.” He cried out.
“I just… I’m confident when I’m drunk. I say things, okay?”
“So you were just drunk. Like before? It was the alcohol getting to you—is that right?”
He shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe.”
It was like Gao Zhi Yao was making a fool out of him—he wanted out.
“I can’t keep doing this. I’m done.”
He started walking away.
“Done?”
As he heard his basic ask, he turned, saying one last thing before Gao Zhi Yao’s words became echoes: “I’m done with you. Talk to me when you actually want to tell me something!”
He left Gao Zhi Yao standing. As he was left alone, he kicked a random bucket near them; it clanked against the brick wall.
…
Jiang Yi Jie stayed sitting on his couch, pajamas on, ready to binge another short series before bed. A book lay on the coffee table—the pieces left of Gao Zhi Yao hidden in his laundry basket. He wanted nothing more than to relax, but before he could turn on the TV, his dorm bell rang two different times. Two times, like he hadn’t heard it the first.
It must be my neighbor.
He got up from the couch, struggling to walk, his leg cramping. He hurried up, unlocking the door.
As he opened it, someone started speaking—the same voice from earlier, only this time more husky and annoying.
“What do you want?” he said, rolling his eyes, his hand holding onto the doorknob. His left fist already clenched in the air.
“I want to talk.”
“We talked at work.”
“I want to talk again.”
He shook his head, opening the door fully, letting Gao Zhi Yao slide in, kicking off his shoes—his white socks exposed.
“How do you know I live here?”
He smiled widely at him. He made himself comfortable, sitting straight down on the couch, the coziness of it hitting his buttocks.
“Remember, I was here before.” His memory was ass; he got the address from someone else, but he didn’t want to reveal that.
Jiang Yi Jie sank into the couch a whole two seats away, right at the end. His arm rested on the armrest, tensing as Gao Zhi Yao’s presence annoyed him further.
“Talk, then leave.”
“Come on! Let me see what you’re watching,” he said, trying to grab the remote before being stopped halfway by Jiang Yi Jie’s hand. The same touch being felt—drier this time.
“Oh. Well. Then no, I guess.”
“Talk.”
He fidgeted in his place—rubbing his head, crossing his fingers over his eardrums, running them through his hair, pulling at his legs—until Jiang Yi Jie practically threatened him to speak.
“Okay, okay.”
“Go ahead then,” his voice grim.
“I wanted to apologize.”
“Okay.”
“Okay? I wanted to apologize that I made you feel hurt. I didn’t realize my words hurt that bad.”
“Your actions too.”
“Yes, and my actions,” he replied.
“Is that it?”
He shook his head instantly. Thoughts became words, shaping up to create a storm. He moved again, sliding a little bit closer to where Jiang Yi Jie sat. His hands touched anything they could.
“When I said before that it didn’t matter, or that I was drunk—it was true.”
“Okay, if you’re just going to reaffirm what you said, you can leave. I told you I was done.”
He rambled on.
“It was true. Being drunk makes me confident, but—and I mean a big but—it only portrays how I really feel.”
Jiang Yi Jie smirked. Gao Zhi Yao saw that. He bit his cheek before continuing.
“I just… I didn’t want you to think that was how I truly felt. I didn’t even think that. And I honestly don’t know if I do.”
Jiang Yi Jie just continued to stare at him, aimlessly. A smirk still there.
“But I want to try… something.”
“Something?”
“Yes. Just something.”
He continued to ramble on about many things—mostly uninteresting things and things that didn’t pertain to the conversation.
“Let me speak,” Jiang Yi Jie interjected, placing one finger on Gao Zhi Yao’s lips.
He nodded.
“I don’t know either. I thought it was platonic. I thought it was just a kiss. I thought— I don’t know. I thought for you it was that. Just friends. Friends kiss, right?”
“Some do.”
He whispered back, practically seductively, “So we could?”
“Yes,” he mumbled.
“Right now?”
Another whisper.
Like it was all coming at once, he moved suddenly closer, leaning in easily. He wanted to be the one to initiate the kiss, and he did. This time around. He rose above all, placing a single peck on Gao Zhi Yao’s lips, sticking to him for a little while longer than the drunken kiss before—only this time holding more meaning.
Gao Zhi Yao didn’t move.
Jiang Yi Jie took it all.
A sober kiss was all he wanted, and he got it. Finally.