Luo Fusheng is outside the school's gates, astride his motorcycle, as if he had been waiting for the whole duration of the exam. He grins when he sees Zhang Yuan, and raises a hand in a wave, winking a little. Zhang Yuan waves back, grinning happily in return, and for some reason, the summer afternoon suddenly seems brighter, and the sun seems warmer.
"Hey, so now that you've aced those tests-" begins Luo Fusheng as soon as Zhang Yuan is within earshot.
Zhang Yuan shushes him, eyes widening a little. "Don't jinx it! What if I didn't? I'm having all these regrets about the way I answered question 5-c…" He's only half-joking, and Luo Fusheng, who knows him better than anyone, can sense his worry.
Luo Fusheng scoffs. "Golden student A-Yuan. The way you've been studying, if they fail you, I'll beat them up, because there's no way you didn't pass with flying colors," he says. “So, if you get failed, I’m gonna break some legs, okay?” He reaches out and ruffles Zhang Yuan's hair with a rough hand. "Hey. Don't stress." He raises a finger and leans closer, smiling easily. "You know what? The best way to celebrate your official graduation and destruction of those tests is to get fuckin' hammered!" He grins.
Zhang Yuan bats his hand away. "You can use anything an excuse to get drunk!" he says with mock-sternness.
"Who, me?" Luo Fusheng makes an innocent face, then grins lightly again, unable to suppress a breath of a laugh. "You'll have fun, I promise. Getting drunk for the first time is always interesting."
"For who?" wonders Zhang Yuan.
"Aiyoh~…" Luo Fusheng laughs, "You don't trust me?"
Zhang Yuan wants to make a witty retort that will make Luo Fusheng laugh, but his mind goes blank, the sun is glinting happily in Luo Fusheng's eyes, and what he says is: "I definitely trust you," with great earnestness.
Luo Fusheng pauses, his eyebrows twitch, and then he laughs. "Get on," he says, tossing his helmet at Zhang Yuan. "It's time for some fun!"
The question that a lot of people might ask is, 'How is Luo Fusheng still standing after drinking that much?' But Luo Fusheng is grinning and his voice is loud over the music and other people's laughs. He stands up, wavering a little, and raises a glass. His words are slurred but full of enthusiasm. "Everyone, drink one down f’r A-Yuan!” There are cheers and people throw their drinks back. “Congratulate Zhang Yuan-shaoye!" he yells. There is a drunken chorus of congratulations.
Luo Fusheng smiles contentedly, raising both of his arms, and then throws back his own drink, throat bobbing as he swallows, a few drops running down his chin. He staggers a little, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. He whoops. “Yeah…!” He points unfocusedly at Zhang Yuan. “Drink in honor of that guy!”
People cheer and drink more.
Zhang Yuan sits a little distance away, feeling pleasantly fuzzy, but not actually all the way drunk. He's only drank half a bottle of beer so far, because he's been getting much too distracted what with people congratulating him, and Luo Fusheng chugging alcohol like there is no tomorrow.
Luo Fusheng sits on a wide couch, surrounded by girls who Zhang Yuan has never met before, and Zhang Yuan watches as one of them tilts a glass towards Luo Fusheng's lips, and another pulls him back up against her. There is a bitter taste in Zhang Yuan's mouth, and he suddenly stands up, gulping down the remainder of his beer.
"Enough!" he says. He pulls on Luo Fusheng’s sleeve. "Hey. Fusheng. I wanna go home."
Luo Fusheng blinks up at him, then surges suddenly into a standing position, the girls around him giggling as he stumbles forward. "Alri~ight…!" he says with an unfocused grin, wrapping an arm around Zhang Yuan's shoulders and leaning on him a little. "Y’ sure?" he asks. "We can still… Still drink more…!"
"Hey, do you wanna drink yourself to death?" scolds Zhang Yuan.
Luo Fusheng laughs lightly, clumsily patting Zhang Yuan's chest instead of his shoulder. "Alri~ight, alri~ight, I get i~it…!" he says. His eyes shine under the colored lights as he looks over at Zhang Yuan. "D'you have fun?" he asks gently, voice soft.
Zhang Yuan swallows. He's so close… And his eyes…- "Uh, yeah," chokes out Zhang Yuan. "I had fun."
Luo Fusheng grins.
When they get home, Luo Fusheng is resting more heavily on Zhang Yuan, who is already staggering and swearing with the effort. Once inside, Luo Fusheng leans back against the wall as Zhang Yuan fumbles for the light switch that is suddenly hard to find in the dark house. “Where the-” begins Zhang Yuan, getting more frustrated.
Suddenly, he feels Luo Fusheng leaning on him again, hugging him from behind. His arms are loosely embracing Zhang Yuan’s waist, and his forehead presses against the back of Zhang Yuan’s head, hot breath against the back of his neck with every exhale.
Zhang Yuan involuntarily trembles at the feeling, stiffening in surprise. Luo Fusheng’s little laugh sends slight shivers down Zhang Yuan’s spine, and his arms tighten around Zhang Yuan. “Y’ can’t turn th’… The lights on, A-Yuan?”
“It’s gonna be harder if you’re hanging off me like a drunk koala,” Zhang Yuan chokes out, desperately pleading with his body, ‘Please don’t get turned on, please don’t get turned on!’ His body doesn’t listen.
Luo Fusheng’s chest presses up against Zhang Yuan’s back as he leans more. “’M not a koala,” he mutters. One arm still encircling Zhang Yuan’s waist, he presses the palm of his other hand against the wall, managing to hit the light switch on his first try. “See~? I can turn the lights on…” he mutters, resting his chin on Zhang Yuan’s shoulder.
Why does he have to get all huggy when he’s drunk?! In the past, whenever Luo Fusheng came home drunk, he would just fall onto the couch and pass out. Wait… Wouldn’t that mean he got huggy with other people? Zhang Yuan feels that bitter taste in his mouth again, and manages to pull Luo Fusheng over to the couch, ready to deposit him there, and then go to bed himself probably to either immediately sleep, or touch himself to the thought of Luo Fusheng before passing out, as he always does, feeling guilt and sorrow but unable to stop.
But Luo Fusheng doesn’t let him go. And in a moment of drunken balance issues, Luo Fusheng pulls Zhang Yuan down onto the couch with him, onto his lap, Zhang Yuan’s back pressed flush up against Luo Fusheng’s chest.
Zhang Yuan’s voice dies in his throat. He tries to jump up, but Luo Fusheng hugs him more tightly, fingers tightening in the fabric of Zhang Yuan’s shirt. Through the thin fabric, Zhang Yuan can feel the heat of Luo Fusheng’s hands and as his heart hammers in his chest, his breath hitches.
“Hey,” Zhang Yuan chokes out. “You, ah? What are you-”
Luo Fusheng laughs, then falls sideways, taking Zhang Yuan with him.
The world tilts, the breath whooshes out of him with surprise, and then Zhang Yuan is on his back, knees on either side of Luo Fusheng’s hips, with their thighs overlapping, Zhang Yuan's back lifting off the couch a little. Luo Fusheng is bracing himself against the armrest above Zhang Yuan. His eyes are unfocused, but he’s grinning playfully, and that expression (along with the entire situation) sends a spike of heat through Zhang Yuan.
Luo Fusheng licks his lips, grin widening. Zhang Yuan's mouth goes dry, and the front of his pants suddenly feels uncomfortably tight. He tries to sit up, but Luo Fusheng doesn’t move from where he is, and even pushes Zhang Yuan’s shoulder back a little.
“Hey, you-” begins Zhang Yuan. His cheeks flare red and he swallows, pressing his lips together tightly, both utterly embarrassed and very much aroused. Wait, what’s going on? He looks away, unable to look at Luo Fusheng’s dark eyes anymore. It wouldn’t be as bad if it wasn’t Luo Fusheng doing something like this, if it wasn’t the person Zhang Yuan had fallen for.
“Cute…” Luo Fusheng's hot, alcohol-scented breath fans out across Zhang Yuan's face. Clumsily shrugging out of his jacket, he nudges Zhang Yuan back again and grins unfocusedly at him again, hands running down Zhang Yuan’s sides, tracing a trail of heat right down to his hips, where they come to a stop. "So cute…" he breathes.
Zhang Yuan’s shuddering breath catches in his chest where his heart is beating so, so fast – if he looks into Luo Fusheng’s eyes, he might make a mistake, or his heart might beat so fast and hard that it could break through his ribcage. He wants to believe that this is real, that he isn’t dreaming.
When Luo Fusheng suddenly palms Zhang Yuan’s bulging crotch, his eyes open wide and he reflexively looks up at Luo Fusheng, letting out a gasp as another, stronger spike of heat lances through him.
“Hm, this is cute too~…” Luo Fusheng says thoughtfully, hand moving a little.
“A-ah…-” Zhang Yuan presses his hand down over his mouth to keep from letting out any more sounds like that. “What’re you-”
Luo Fusheng leans closer, frowning, but in what looks like a comically exaggerated way, even though his confusion is genuine. He really is very drunk. “You don’t like…?” he mutters. “That’s weird, I thought I-” He cuts himself off, looks down and moves his hand again, very deliberately, the heel of his palm pressing a little harder, at which Zhang Yuan shudders with pleasure. “You sure y' don’t like it?” asks Luo Fusheng again, teasing, grinning a little at Zhang Yuan's reaction.
Zhang Yuan gulps. He’s imagined this, things like this more times than he can count, and he wants it, he wants to be touched by Luo Fusheng and to touch Luo Fusheng in return. He wants it so, so badly because he likes him, likes him so much it hurts. The hidden feelings within him come out in his shaking words. “I-I want- I like it…” he begins, voice cracking a little, “I like you-”
Grinning wider, Luo Fusheng doesn’t let him finish.
He presses his mouth over Zhang Yuan’s tightly pressed-together lips. Both of his hands slip under the hem of Zhang Yuan’s t-shirt and slide up his bare sides up to his chest. His tongue swipes over the seam of Zhang Yuan’s lips, and as Zhang Yuan’s mouth opens to let out a voiceless gasp at Luo Fusheng’s touch, Luo Fusheng kisses him harder, licking into his mouth.
It’s a messy kiss that tastes like alcohol, but it feels really, really good. Zhang Yuan’s heart swells with a feeling akin to joy, and the heat that courses through him is not only due to the physical pleasure. Luo Fusheng clumsily tries to push Zhang Yuan’s shirt up over his head, and they both fumble for a moment as they struggle to get him out of it. Luo Fusheng laughs as it finally comes off, and Zhang Yuan answers with a breathless laugh of his own.
But once he’s out of that shirt, there is no more time, Zhang Yuan's laugh catches in his throat, turning into a strangled groan. Luo Fusheng’s hot, wet mouth is everywhere; on Zhang Yuan’s jaw, his throat, his chest – tongue darting out to flick the tip of a nipple. That feeling goes straight to his crotch and Zhang Yuan reacts almost instinctively, gasping and wrapping his legs around Luo Fusheng, locking his ankles behind Luo Fusheng’s back.
Luo Fusheng draws back, grinning slightly against Zhang Yuan’s mouth, and then grinds his hips down.
Zhang Yuan’s eyes squeeze shut as he shudders, arching upwards. “N-nh-”
"Cute…" Letting out a laugh, Luo Fusheng presses his mouth to the side of Zhang Yuan’s neck and repeats the grinding motion. Zhang Yuan actually moans, then tries to cover up his embarrassment by fumbling at the buttons on Luo Fusheng’s shirt.
He manages to get a few of them open before Luo Fusheng lets out a hissing sound of annoyance, entirely losing patience – ripping his shirt open, buttons clattering around to the floor and couch like rain. Luo Fusheng's button-up slips open as he leans down to wrap his arms tightly around Zhang Yuan, kissing him hard. He grinds down again, and Zhang Yuan grinds up to meet him, hips bucking and legs shaking at the pleasure.
Zhang Yuan wraps his arms around Luo Fusheng also, hands scrabbling for purchase at Luo Fusheng’s back underneath his shirt. Moving against each other, Luo Fusheng and Zhang Yuan are both breathless and flushed. Luo Fusheng breaks away from the kiss to catch his breath. “Fuck…” he groans, looking down at Zhang Yuan panting helplessly beneath him, mouth red and kiss-swollen, chest heaving and narrow waist arching up towards him.
Grinding harder, Zhang Yuan buries a moan in Luo Fusheng’s shoulder. He feels close, pulsing and breathless with overwhelming, floating heat. “Please… Please, oh god-”
He doesn’t know what he’s begging for, but Luo Fusheng takes it as encouragement, fingers digging into Zhang Yuan’s hips as they press and move together yet again, placing gasping, clumsy, openmouthed kisses against and around each other’s mouths. Divesting Zhang Yuan of his t-shirt and ripping open Luo Fusheng’s button-up is as far as they have gone to undress, needing each other there and now – desperately rutting up against each other, refusing to waste time on anything further.
Their movements are clumsy – Luo Fusheng’s drunkenness and Zhang Yuan’s inexperience combining into a mess of misplaced kisses – but there is enough breathless enthusiasm from both of them to make up for it.
Zhang Yuan is close, so close – one more movement from Luo Fusheng, and Zhang Yuan is definitely going to come.
Luo Fusheng licks into Zhang Yuan’s mouth again and again, grip tightening on the narrow, sharp juts of the other's hips.
Zhang Yuan groans loudly as he shakes with the most intense pleasure he’s ever felt, coming right there in his pants. By himself, thinking of Luo Fusheng, was good; but this, with Luo Fusheng right there, hands on his body, pressed up against him – all this is so much better than Zhang Yuan could have ever imagined. “Fusheng-!” he manages to gasp, tightening like a drawn-out string, wanting to look into Luo Fusheng's eyes.
He only realizes that he has scratched Luo Fusheng’s back with his nails when he comes down from his high, and in response, Luo Fusheng gasps something that sound like, “Oh, fuck,” against his mouth, tensing and shaking against him with his own orgasm, muscles tensing and eyes squeezing shut. "Fu-uck…!" he groans again.
Zhang Yuan’s chest heaves as he pants for breath, body feeling loose and heavy. Luo Fusheng’s arms shake, and then he falls limply forward onto Zhang Yuan, face pressed into the side of Zhang Yuan’s neck. He doesn’t move for quite a while, and when Zhang Yuan has finally regained his breath and cooled down a little, wanting to get up and take a shower, Luo Fusheng still doesn’t move.
“Hey. Get off.”
Luo Fusheng lets out a soft snore.
“You’re heavy,” Zhang Yuan breathes accusingly. But it is a little bit comforting and more than a little pleasant, Luo Fusheng’s warm weight settled over his body, their legs tangled together.
Luo Fusheng’s soft, even breaths lull Zhang Yuan halfway to sleep.
“Luo Fusheng… I… I like you,” Zhang Yuan whispers quietly, grinning a little, wrapping his arms loosely around Luo Fusheng’s middle. He drifts off to sleep with a smile on his face.
Zhang Yuan wakes up alone, feeling cold because he's not wearing a shirt, and when he sits up, his head hurts a little, but not too much – more like he’s thirsty than what he imagines a hangover would be like. But then, again, he didn’t even drink that much. He yawns, stretching, and grins a little as he remembers what had happened upon their return home from the party.
And then he sees Luo Fusheng sitting sprawled on the floor, his head in his hands. He’s gotten changed and his hair is still damp from the shower, and when he hears Zhang Yuan shifting, he looks up at him. His face is drawn and pale, and his eyes are red-rimmed and haunted.
“You have a hangover?” Zhang Yuan asks, smiling a little, looking away slightly as his cheeks flush. “I’ll, uh, heat up some water – and then I’ll go take a shower-”
Luo Fusheng presses a palm to his own forehead, and he looks up at Zhang Yuan with another tortured look. He looks like he might say something, but Zhang Yuan has already put some water on to boil and disappeared into the shower.
The shower’s water is warm and as Zhang Yuan looks down at himself, he sees the faint imprints of fingers on his hips. He tries not to smile too widely, but he can’t help it. Once he’s out, though, pulling his shirt over his head, Luo Fusheng is there.
“I’m sorry…” he whispers. His red-rimmed eyes speak volumes, even though it seems like he can’t look at Zhang Yuan for too long.
“I- You- W-what?” Zhang Yuan manages to say. His smile fades. Last night… Was that not- “You-” he tries again, but breaks off.
“I’m so sorry…” repeats Luo Fusheng. “I- I really don’t remember anything that happened… I was blackout drunk, but this… I am sorry about it. Truly.”
Zhang Yuan’s stomach plummets. This wasn’t at all what he thought would happen. Had those laughing eyes and clumsily questing hands been a lie? Had Luo Fusheng even seen Zhang Yuan’s face as he kissed him? As he'd said 'cute' and tried to take his shirt off? Zhang Yuan’s voice trembles and he knows his eyes are filling with hot tears. “Do you… Have me in your heart?” He turns away to try and gather himself but it doesn’t work. “Even… Even if it’s just a little…?”
Even before Luo Fusheng answers, just from his eyes, Zhang Yuan knows the answer. His voice trembles just a little, but it is gentle, and truly pained. “In my eyes… You’re a kid. I’ll definitely take care of you and protect you. But other things… As a lover… That can’t work. …You can understand.”
No – maybe he can understand – but he doesn’t want to!
Zhang Yuan can’t even remember what happened after that – but what most likely happened was that he had stumbled dazedly for his room and locked the door, falling onto his bed and pulling a pillow over his head – refusing to cry. He doesn’t know how long he’s been in there, but he knows it’s been more than four hours – and he still hasn’t moved or come out.
There’s a knock at the door.
Zhang Yuan’s voice is hoarse. “Go away…!” he says, burying his face in the blanket.
Those are Luo Fusheng’s footsteps that linger, and then get further away down the hallway.