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Aether’s holding a protein bar out for him before he’s even had the chance to greet him; A gentle breeze weaves through the old ruins of Guili, stirring fliers hanging about the recently established marketplace they’ve decided to meet at. It’s mostly selling the type of pointless trinkets only tourists buy, with a couple of cheap renditions of popular Liyuen foods showing up in the hands of other visitors. Excessive use of Jueyun chilli masks the lack of any complex flavourings usually seen in authentic cuisine, and the smell burns his nostrils enough that he knows to avoid all free samples.
The protein bar is distinctly Fontaine in flavour, combining bulle fruit and chocolate atop ajilenakh nuts that taste too bland to be the original Sumerian kind. It’s otherwise non-offensive to his taste, so he accepts the offering.
“Xiao,” Aether says, instead of hello. There’s one of those reserved smiles on his face; Xiao’s debated giving it a proper name, the way the corners of his mouth lift ever so slightly, and his ears shift backwards. His eyes lock to Xiao’s, not demanding of his attention but simply… basking. That tinge between his ribs is back — the one that makes itself known whenever he’s subjected to that expression — and ever since the recent Summer, it’s started spreading to his shoulders and intestines. Weightless, yet tugging him somewhere. Like the end of a chaotic thread being plucked from the water.
“Hi,” he replies, instead of ‘Aether’. Two syllables too difficult to manage with food in his mouth and a mouth on his mind.
A moment passes where Xiao believes Aether is asking for water; hand stretched towards him, as he has thoughtlessly taken the food from him without considering that he did not bring water in return. Then, a gentle finger skirts over his elbow, guiding him to stand by Aether’s side. Shoulders bump together, and Aether’s warm hand slides down his arm, fingers treading over his palm and threading between Xiao’s. It leaves a cold wake of pricked skin, saps all the warmth from Xiao’s spine until he shivers.
He glances down, at their now interlocked hands, where Aether thumbs gently over Xiao’s knuckles.
“They’ve started reconstructing a bathhouse nearby,” Aether begins, as though he isn’t holding Xiao’s pulse hostage with such innocent gestures of the hands, “since they discovered the original aqueducts that supplied the water. Apparently, a type of reflective stone was used for the water intake to amplify the sun’s heating effect, and if they wanted cold water they would plumb it up from an underground line using a contraption that involved two vertical tunnels. One housed a stone cylinder which was just barely able to fit, so that when they plunged it down, it would force water up the other tunnel without them needing to use any kind of well system. Oh— also the hot water was generally above the buildings so that the aqueduct wouldn’t be shaded at all, but sometimes the lines would overflow which is why the population of Guili was surprisingly adept at treating burns.”
Xiao nods, hearing yet not quite listening. He tries to grasp at something to prove his attentiveness, yet all he thinks is, he is holding my hand.
Suddenly he is not in the marketplace, but outside the ruins of a bathhouse, rectangular with a protruding tower structure that has remained untouched for millenia. Aether lets go of his hand, now. Points at the things he explains, waves at the construction team and plants himself in a new conversation. His shoulders lift and rotate with vivid gestures, his heels pause to pose in elegant formations that are barely soured by the unappealing black joggers he wears. His skin is less tanned now than it was during the summer, yet sunlight still blesses him with a blinding glow and blonder hair. Hair which is tied into a basic ponytail, which shifts as he sways and catches on the folds of his polyester hood. Hair which is in Xiao's hand, soft, and free of the static that held it in place.
Aether turns to look at him, if not confused than curious as to why Xiao has taken to playing with his hair right here and now. The lady he had been talking with dismisses herself, and Xiao lets go.
“Everything okay?” Aether asks, hands in his jumper pockets, stepping closer so Xiao can hear his lowered voice.
He nods, chews on his cheek. If he’d thought to wear long sleeves, he could pull them down over his hands to hide how much they yearn to hold Aether again.
Aether reaches closer again. “Oh, I can take that for you.” His fingers encase Xiao’s hand, fleeting too quickly. Please, is all Xiao thinks, as the food wrapper he’d been holding is plucked from his grasp, and tucked away in a random pocket. “There’s not many places to put rubbish around here, huh?” Aether continues. Tilts his head at whatever expression Xiao has, and speaks softly. “Wanna go somewhere quieter?”
Again, he nods. Whatever words he might say stay stuck in his throat, tacky on his tongue. He’s led with a tip of the head to weave through freestanding pillars which withstood the erosion of wind and time. A once peaceful and prosperous people lived here, in the small stone houses, having to move through streets that no longer confine the modern state of the Guili Assembly. Xiao wonders if they, too, had friends who occupied so much of their heart that the slightest touch could alter their bloodflow. A couple of stone walls stand half-tall, taller still than Xiao as he finds himself in a corner with Aether. Standing close, smiling sweetly.
He studies how the expression tugs at his nose, and from this close he sees the fine hairs and pores dotting his skin, sees a patch of stubble that Aether must have missed while shaving this morning. He leans close, Aether does too. Eyes shut, brown eyelashes delicate on his cheeks still lifted from his smile. His lips look windcut, the balm worn away from how much he licks them. Xiao should have brought him water.
He kisses him instead, on the cheek. Feels another smaller patch of prickly hair against his bottom lip, his own exhale warm on both of their skins. And pulls away just as quickly.
Aether has turned a plum red, from his ears all the way into his collar, averts his eyes. He has no rambles to continue with, removes his hands from his pockets just to wring them together. For once, he is hard to read; the death of the smile on his face seems neither tragic or surprised. It only stops. And Xiao tries to protect his heart with pessimism.
“I apologise,” he says. “I’m not sure what is wrong with me.” If he assumes the worst, then the worst cannot catch him off guard. That Aether might resent him for this, still leadens his limbs. He is cold, again.
“No, you’re…” Aether shakes his head. “It’s fine, Xiao. Really. I only—” he breathes in, pinching the bridge of his nose. Leans up against the wall, and sighs. “I didn’t want things to be weird after we kissed. But they got weird, anyway. Not that it’s your fault, it’s not. I thought we could keep being friends and nothing would change, but I keep feeling like something should change. That we should be something more.”
Xiao grabs at his own stomach, and leans next to him quietly. Too many words going through his mind to speak just yet.
“I’m not ready for anything more,” Aether goes on, softly. “I don’t want to be… something. I just want you, the way you are. The way we have been the whole time. You’re my best friend, Xiao.”
“Do you regret it?”
“No.”
The answer does little to quell Xiao’s anxiety. “Yet you would not repeat it.” You would not allow me to ask such things of you again.
“I…” he starts, stops for a long moment. Aether thinks with hands running up his own arms, eyes locked on the distant long grass. He thinks in a way that feels so loud, yet Xiao can never hear what’s truly on his mind. “If a time comes again that… we want to kiss, I don’t see why we shouldn’t.” He lifts his gaze to Xiao’s, and offers half of a smile. “I trust you, you know. I just want things to stop being weird and… I dunno. Maybe we just kiss, now.”
Those words warm both of their faces. Xiao looks down to where Aether’s hand now fidgets with his belt, and gives into the urge to hook his fingers under Aether’s. Pulling their hands between them, Xiao ensures their fingers are fully interlocked before meeting Aether’s gaze again. “Is this also okay?” He asks, tentative.
His hand is squeezed as Aether laughs, ducking his head and bumping against Xiao’s shoulder. “Of course it is. You were always allowed to hold my hand, Xiao.”
“Oh,” he replies, also tightening his grip. Something like shame, or maybe pure embarrassment, colours his face, feels nothing like the intimate cold of earlier yet Xiao finds he doesn’t mind it too much. He can already feel his palm sweating, but doesn’t let go just yet. “Can we walk like this? Not just today but… always?”
“Yeah, we can.” Aether smiles.
It makes his heart sink, in a way that feels good. He’s not entirely sure what love is supposed to feel like, but he thinks he feels differently for Aether than a woman might feel for her boyfriend. Maybe it’s that they’re both men, or, like Aether said: they are friends, but now they also can kiss, if they want.
Aether pushes himself off the wall, tugging Xiao with him. Xiao is quickly learning that Aether loves to squeeze the hand he holds, to encourage him, to convey excitement when he notices one of the hot water aqueducts atop one of the tallest walls. They disconnect for a few seconds to wipe the sweat off on their own shirts, and Aether giggles as he slips his hand back into Xiao’s, swinging their hands like a kid. He does not mind all this, either. The giddy feeling in his chest as Aether points at old carvings of hearts containing initials. When he finally asks about the reflective stone used to heat the water, he’s convinced Aether’s skin might be made of it with how much he lights up. It’s strange, that his hand is now dragged along with Aether’s gestures, that Aether would even adjust his hold on him to remain intact and continue to draw pictures in the air, like it’s already so natural to him.
Xiao doesn’t realise he has been smiling the whole time until his cheeks start to ache, yet he does not care enough to stop.