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Chongyun hadn’t planned on drinking tonight.
The last time he’d gotten this plastered, he’d put on an impromptu concert for a room full of strangers—and instead of stopping him, Xingqiu had recorded the whole thing.
Months had passed since they last spoke. It was Xingqiu who used to drag him to these shitty house parties, no doubt a good source of entertainment for their friends. Like a fool, Chongyun had followed him to the ends of the earth.
And now, he was alone in a cramped, pitch-dark basement crammed with dozens of bodies, drunk out of his mind.
So much for getting over his (ex) best friend. Drinking alone was the least of his worries.
Chongyun, as it turned out, was rapidly losing grasp of his self-control.
It wasn't just the drink. This place was a sensory nightmare. Loud, blaring music throbbed under his skin like a phantom pulse, nerves crawling with sensation. There were too many distractions here. He thought he recognized a couple making out on his way back from the restroom before averting his eyes.
Normally, he wasn’t one to stray far from Xingqiu’s side. It had been that way since they were kids—they went to all of the same schools, stuck with the same friend groups. He couldn’t fathom being so close with anyone else.
But Xingqiu wasn't here right now.
Slouching back, Chongyun exhaled loosely, watching the scene slide in and out of focus. From above, cheap party lights ribboned through the pitch-dark; the throng of bodies pulsed in time with the slow, heavy bass. As he drank what was left of his cup, it was easy to let his breath loosen in his chest, to exhale into the kaleidoscopic mirage that played out in front of him.
Being drunk felt good. What did it matter? He always found himself back here in the end.
The couch dipped beside him. It didn’t take much effort to know there were eyes on him. If he was in his usual state of mind, he’d be on his guard.
Tonight, he had no such inhibitions.
He forgot about the empty cup in his hands as soon as an arm tucked itself around his waist, drawing him halfway into someone’s lap. Chongyun found his face turned into the soft nook of a shoulder. Tantalizing, sun-warm skin. Curiously, he tasted sweat on his tongue. The thrill of desire pulsated through his body—that sweet sultry magic, carrying the sounds of muffled laughter. He looked up.
Blurry clouds shifted all around him. Somehow, it felt like he was sliding down even while sitting still.
“Easy there, pal. You good? Having fun?”
Chongyun took half a minute to process that slow drawl, so vaguely familiar, yet impossible to place. This stranger played with him so leisurely—stroking where his shirt had ridden up, slow fire to his skin. Smiling when their gazes met.
Whether or not he was one of Xingqiu’s friends, Chongyun couldn't help but return the interest. It wasn’t the first time someone had approached him like this. He could barely make out the man’s face, except for those eyes—like Xingqiu’s, but darker with intent. A flicker of recognition was replaced by a surge of liquid desire, staggering in its intensity.
“Been a while, huh? Did you miss me that much?"
At this point, Chongyun was too drunk to make sense of a word he was saying. He could vaguely recall the chaos around them, loud bodies drowning in heat and sensation. Light spilled out from his peripheral vision—probably Hu Tao and her crew stealing drinks from the fridge. Not like he kept up with any of his old friends anymore.
“Mm... maybe,” Chongyun said.
A hand drifted up to the back of his neck. The subtle petting made Chongyun feel dizzy, beloved, like a shiny new pet. Arm candy.
“C’mere.”
Gaming hummed in his ear, lips against his cheek.
“This one’s on me.”
The hand came up to tenderly cup his jaw, turning his face—until warm lips met his.
He opened his mouth on a gasp; soft laughter shimmered in his mouth, melting through the shock. In spite of his hesitation, that clever tongue licked its way inside all the same, coaxing him into opening up, heart thumping, eyes closed. The rest of the crowd faded away. A tablet slipped between their lips. He didn’t think twice before swallowing, nursing the shock of buzzing warmth, of bitterness, on his tongue with another kiss.
Gaming’s hand slid to the back of his head, big knuckles massaging him sweetly, keeping him there, lavishing him in unspoken praise. Soft and adoring. Chongyun’s lashes fluttered.
This felt good.
He deserved this—to take a risk, a break from his troubles. The kiss was far too sweet, too wet, but he couldn’t help but yield when their tongues met. Love so exotic chased a thrill through his lips, making his whole body unfurl. He knew better than to fold so easily, but he didn’t want to think—not when those electric kisses continued down the side of his jaw, skin buzzing at every point of discovery.
“Aren’t you sweet?” There was lazy amusement in Gaming’s slurred words, kissing the corner of Chongyun’s mouth where a hot gasp fled his lips. “See, I knew you’d remember this.”
This was exactly the kind of guy Chongyun tended to avoid, irreverent in the pursuit of pleasure. Yet he still found himself tilting back to make room for more, sweat drenched through his clothes, breathlessly overheated. So what if he indulged in these shallow affections? What did it matter?
He was allowed to make bad decisions, with or without Xingqiu here to hold his leash.
There were no walls left to keep him from falling head-first; adorned in the crown of Gaming’s lap, Chongyun couldn’t quite catch his breath. Every other kiss made him feel closer to death, buzzing with lukewarm anticipation. His hands threaded in Gaming’s half-dyed hair, nails scratching against his scalp in silent demand.
“Wait.” His mind fogged up with every breath, Gaming’s lips hot on his earlobe, sucking sweetly. “Hold on, I—uh…”
Everything went blurry, out of focus, save for the hands under his clothes, radiating warmth like the earth. The squeeze of his hips made him feel feverish with longing, propped up like a trophy on another man’s lap.
“Gonna cream your pants?”
“Fuck you,” Chongyun laughed in between breathless kisses. Fingers hooked into Gaming’s collar, unable to resist the intoxicating impulse. Lips just a breath apart. “You think I’m that easy?”
“Isn’t life better when it’s easy?”
Ruled by impulse, he yanked Gaming forward and kissed the stupid grin straight from his face.
The world seemed to drift him into Gaming’s arms. Chongyun should have felt repulsed, but his thoughts faded the moment he was swayed into laughter. Here, he found himself afloat on a new plane of happiness; Gaming with his ticklish smile, leaving a colorful trail of kisses wherever he could reach—his neck, love-sore; the blushing tip of his ear. Chongyun laughed until he could taste the starbursts floating in his periphery, where greedy lips found his cheek, painting a vibrant sea of color and light.
Life was so bright from above the horizon line; he couldn’t imagine a world without it. Like he'd drown if he let go.
They couldn’t part for a second. His lips were burning as Gaming wiped drool from the corner of mouth, proud of his work. Chongyun couldn’t look away. He couldn’t live without this high.
“I think I’m in love,” Chongyun said, mostly to himself.
“Yeah? It’s starting to hit, right?”
Under the center spotlight, vibrant colors morphed and rippled across Gaming’s face and neck, waves so perfectly serene. Dark eyelashes hid the moon’s glow within his gaze, slow-blinking. His pupils were larger than the galaxy in his eyes.
Chongyun wasn't quite sure how much time had passed, or what side of heaven he’d accidentally stumbled upon. Every touch felt like a scatter of magic.
“I knew you’d like it.”
Chongyun figured he should have a problem with this, but he couldn’t think of one. He couldn’t think of anything, really, when Gaming kissed him so nice, save for the spirals of color under his fingertips, the shape of Gaming’s mouth on his, keeping him wanting. Heat rolled through him in pulsing waves. How many nights had he spent dreaming of this feeling, this divine warmth?
There was no past, no future. A broad hand slid up the back of his shirt, keeping them pressed together as Gaming slowly lowered him onto the couch.
“Don’t be nervous. You’re so cute like this.”
Just for the night.
Chongyun didn’t mind if he’d be dead by the morning. Trembling arms wrapped around Gaming’s neck and shoulders, keeping pace as the world went by. He didn’t need to talk with Gaming’s tongue piercing in his mouth, his senses replaced with the overwhelming taste of him, of senseless affection—affection that he'd missed. It didn’t matter if this wouldn’t last longer than a night. He didn't care about the rest anymore.
Kissing never came naturally to him. His tongue felt thick and clumsy in his mouth, pooling with excess saliva. Gaming guided him with smiling lips. Hands trailed up the sides of his shirt, unveiling his waist and stomach. A voice like heaven echoed in his mind.
“I'll take you to my place after this. What do you say?”
Teeth traced over a new-old hickey, a phantom ache. Chongyun’s breath staggered, overtaken by the fever-pulse beating rapidly through his body.
“No promises,” Chongyun said, as if his heartbeat hadn’t just tripped over itself.
Making out with a near-stranger hadn’t been on his list of priorities. He couldn’t remember how exactly he ended up here, after years of aching over Xingqiu. But it felt too good to deny. Hands on his hips made him vaguely aware of their slow grind, too lazy to stop. There was nothing left to lose.
“Or we can stay right here, and you can blow me on the couch. Up to you, really.”
Chongyun’s laugh was unexpected, even to himself. On any other day, he would never have pushed his pride aside to accommodate this.
“Shut up already.”
Dizzy in his own mind, he was swept up in Gaming’s ocean tides—kissing him where he lost breath, always pushing every time he pulled back. His skin was flushed with blotchy patches of heat, redder where Gaming's fingers slipped under the gaps in his ripped jeans, pressed into his body—into his thighs and hips. Chongyun didn’t care about the side effects. He never wanted this party to end.
His lips were buzzing hot, ice-numb. Music rattled his bones; he could feel the low bass in his teeth.
“Am I gonna forget this in the morning?”
Gaming’s forehead touched his, heady with the dull pounding of an oncoming headache, as if the world's gravity was concentrated in one star—a premonition of disaster.
“Does it matter?”
This close, he could see that Gaming's eyes were star-studded, loose strands of hair framing his sweat-flushed face. Fire in his breath, hazy eyes, stole the breath from Chongyun’s lungs. All for a fervent promise:
“Just focus on me.”
Heavy-headed, Chongyun could barely recall a vague exchange somewhere beyond him. The scatter of voices, wherever he blinked. He couldn't hold a thought long enough to process the eyes on him, the slip of exposure; his body moved of its own volition.
It didn’t surprise him to have a palmful of Gaming’s erection. Gaming pressed his hand down and gave it a squeeze, savoring a low groan between his teeth.
“See? No one's gonna care.“
Chongyun’s pulse was thrumming in his hand, in his hips. He’d almost forgotten how it felt to wield the weapon of arousal, to briefly become the center of someone’s ever-shifting world. This was undeniable proof that he existed. To be desired, to be loved—suddenly, it felt all too familiar. Reality or delusion, he didn’t care.
Without love, Chongyun didn’t exist.
This was where he found himself reborn. His hand slipped below Gaming’s waistband as the world stopped, then started into motion. Chongyun had spent his whole life living below the horizon line—just one touch was enough to strip his walls down. What did he know? Perhaps it was always meant to be this simple.
Inside his palm was fire-light, full of crackling sensation, warming him up from the core. With just a twist, he savored the taste of Gaming’s gasp hot on his lips, engulfed in a blazing kiss that ignited his soul, reduced the rest to ash. It was proof of how much he was wanted.
Love that made him burn, discreet in the dark—he seized it with both hands.
Chongyun was suddenly grateful for the dingy basement he was in, for all the lies that Xingqiu had embellished their pseudo-relationship with. It was worth it to coax a shuddering climax from a lover he wouldn’t remember in the morning, not an inch of space left between their panting lips; heat-flushed bodies, seconds closer to death. This was exactly what he needed.
Panting hotly into sweat-warm skin, his teeth found fabric at the base of Gaming's neck. Gaming’s shoulders jumped when he bit down, a sharp hiss on the verge of pain or pleasure.
“Fuck, Chongyun…”
Blood and spit dripped down Chongyun’s chin. Gaming’s lips were shiny and swollen, still caught up in that hazy afterglow. Chongyun knew he couldn’t look much better. It had been too long since he was touched like this by someone else, desired in his totality. Here, in his weakness, he found himself alive again.
Gaming traced the blooming hickeys around his throat, ringed like a leash. Pressed down to make him swallow.
“You bruise so easily. No wonder he kept you all to himself."
Chongyun bristled. The itch in his lungs came out in a shudder, breath hot like steam.
“That’s none of your—”
He lost his excuse halfway through. Gaming’s fingers slid around the sides of Chongyun's neck so easily, enough to restrict his breathing if he so desired. A slight squeeze—and Chongyun’s pulse flared to life, a ticking time bomb. If he had any self-control, he wouldn’t find himself short for breath.
“I've been waiting for a long time, you know.”
Every muscle in Chongyun’s body tensed; heavy in his stomach, he looked up, only to find Gaming’s eyes fixed on his neck. Gently stroking over his pulse, the old memories embedded within.
“Do I get to keep you, too?”
Chongyun’s teeth were numb. His ears were ringing as if he’d been struck, lurching forward into the past. He felt the world’s eyes on his crumbling form, on every weakness and crack in his composure.
“I… you…”
He blinked away the tears, tried to refocus on who he’d been kissing. Eyes a different shade of golden saw right through him. He couldn’t see his reflection through the broken glass.
Just get on with it.
Kiss me. Why’d you stop?
Speaking was difficult with the quiver in his breath, cupid’s arrow lodged deep in his chest. Too many rotten memories welling up in his throat. Instead of interrogating him further, Gaming kissed his salty temple, whispered up close where no one else could hear:
“Kidding. Just tell me before you kick the bucket, ‘mkay?”
The simple act of nodding made Chongyun’s head throb. Laying alone in the tomb of his mind, he could barely hear his heartbeat. There was no music, no wonder, nothing but silence in his mind.
He closed his eyes.
As he let himself melt into oblivion, Gaming worked down the front of his jeans. The first touch made the rest of his senses disappear—his mind stopped working, the core of his body concentrated in that one point of contact, where only one other person had left their mark. There was no mourning a love that never had time to manifest.
At least he was good for this.
Enveloped in the heat of Gaming’s palm, Chongyun couldn’t keep his composure. He went from feeling nothing to feeling everything at once, his gasps searing to his sensitive ears. It was a humiliating ritual to be loved like this, reduced to a shuddering mess, dripping pre all over Gaming’s fingers. There was no running from it.
He needed this more than anything else. Love, through the smoke and tears. He felt like he might die without it, this soothing after-burn in his lungs.
Gaming wasn’t slow or sweet. He spit into his palm and got Chongyun off quickly. This was no longer a casual affair; Gaming knew where to turn up the heat, bringing him to tears within seconds. Utterly cornered in breath and body, Chongyun felt the weight of the world press in every time he scraped in a breath; where he tried to shrink away, Gaming brought him closer by the hips. Every touch was tangled in him. Watching him burn.
Tense to the point of breaking, Chongyun’s shoulders came up to his ears, breaths heavy in his lungs.
“Don’t look away,” Gaming said. “Look at me.”
He didn't look away.
Mortified, he watched his reflection fall apart in moonlight eyes, losing himself yet another time.
Sticky with his own sweat and saliva, Chongyun could hear his lungs rattle with each heat-sick breath. Hit with a sudden pang of weakness, it felt like gravity had intensified tenfold. The clamor of the drunken crowd melted into his sinuses. Loss, hauntingly familiar; the fingers wrapped around him stirred memories of love in a different lifetime.
He thought about what Xingqiu would say, finding him like this—sprawled on some dirty basement couch, trying desperately to replace the feeling he’d lost, knowing it would never feel the same. To think he could ever survive without him.
Chongyun could barely hear his heartbeat. He’d spent his whole life searching for affection, and here it was—affection so thick and sweet, he thought he might choke. This love was his only saving grace. He had nothing left to lose, nothing left at all.
Saliva dripped from Gaming’s mouth into his.
“Please,” Chongyun said.
“Relax. I’ve got you.”
Gaming turned him onto his stomach, pressing into his hips from behind. Chongyun’s vision blurred in the rain, speeding through the city lights. The skies were overcast, and he was still floating on that midnight high, just to see if he’d make it.
He could feel just how much Gaming wanted this. It made him feel good, to be loved so thoroughly, closer to that distant dream.
“Since you asked so nicely, I’ll make it fast.”
Without prompting, his lips opened obediently around Gaming’s fingers, jaw pulsing from the ache of grinding his teeth. The pain of breathing hit him suddenly, in delayed sensations, of which he was acutely aware as Gaming stroked the back of his throat. He gagged on his own saliva, felt the crude wetness on his lips with which Gaming coated his fingers, revealing the slick shine between them as they withdrew. Pure revelry.
Chongyun was grateful for this position. Tears leaked down his temple into his hair by the time Gaming clumsily lined up with his lower entrance. He’d practiced this routine a thousand times over. Like a well-trained dog, he arched back as Gaming pushed inside, moaned as his insides opened up perfectly, his spent dick leaking onto the cushions. There with his so-called pride.
“You drive me crazy, you know that?”
Every punishing wave of pleasure pushed him further to the sky. He closed his eyes, moaned as he saw starlight, sparkling behind his eyes.
Like this, he could imagine.
Maybe they were both chasing that same unreachable sky, fading fast. Finding love in places where it shouldn’t be, yet here it was, in full-body form—making his skin vibrate, dizzier with every second in space-time. What could be more real than this?
This adrenaline was the only thing keeping him alive. He couldn’t afford to lose it again.
Heat pulsed between their hips. It rocked into him in one breath, melting into a slow roll through his body. There was no riding the waves; he let them submerge him, gasping for air that wouldn’t come.
“Shit,” Gaming laughed. “You're so tight. My dick is going numb.”
Chongyun was too stimulated to form a coherent thought. He couldn’t help but laugh too. Sweat-drenched and sore, he let his thoughts turn to mush as he was loved, drugged, used as a one-time prop for pleasure—his body, bruised in the right places, made for part-time loving. Fully clothed, drenched in sweat. There were too many hands on him, not the same.
Nails digging into the arm of the couch, he gagged when Gaming’s hips picked up the pace, sloppy and uncoordinated. Desperation, engraved in his bones, made Chongyun shudder with every thrust, drooling into the fabric. It was perfectly uncomfortable. Gaming kissed the back of his neck and moaned into sweat-warm skin, drunk on intimacy, slow suffocation.
This was the greatest thrill of his life.
Pressure-warmth was building up with every steaming exhale. He could feel Gaming cursing quietly into his hair. Everything else was muted save for the sound of Gaming’s loving, his breathing, skin to skin. Pleading hiccups, without distinction, spilled out from his drooling mouth before being muffled by a hot palm.
It felt so good. It felt right.
With Gaming inside of him, he thought about the past and felt nothing at all. All thoughts slipped free from his mind. Beyond losing his mind—he couldn’t remember what he’d been so worried about before.
His own pulse felt unfamiliar, wild and desperate in its race to absolution. He could feel Gaming getting close by his staggered breaths, his vice-grip on Chongyun’s waist, thrusts increasingly uncoordinated—right before melting into a slow grind, teeth closing over a still-sore hickey on his shoulder. It sent a shock of fire ricocheting through his veins.
Chongyun didn’t even realize he was cumming until he felt it searing through every inch of his skin. His eyes rolled back as Gaming shuddered on top of him, fucking him loosely through the aftermath. It made his muscles hurt from sheer tension, wound tight—so hot that he was sweating all over, evaporating straight off his skin. Dimly, he could taste the smoke in his lungs.
For his whole life, he’d been seeking this fire-warmth in his bones. Love that made him feel alive, made him lose hope, on and off again. He knew it could disappear at any moment.
In the end, he was always meant to burn.
As soon as Gaming withdrew, the warmth in Chongyun’s body went with it. He slumped down like a rotten carcass, hopes reduced to ash, loved and discarded.
Love didn’t come for free; a high was bound to bring collapse. Once upon a time the tears would’ve come, but Chongyun had ran so far away from the feeling. He couldn’t admit his weakness, no matter how far he’d fallen. Bathed in sorrow, a shaky exhale was all he could breathe out from charred lungs.
The party was over. Heaven or hell—he didn’t know which side of paradise he’d stumbled upon.
There were colorful eyes on him in the dark, bright and blinding, flickering every time he blinked. With their shadows steeped inside of him, crawling under his skin, he knew there was no point in trying to hide. Everyone knew he was Xingqiu’s pet, his plaything. All he could do was wait for him to come back, like always.
But the source of warmth he'd been clinging to so desperately was not here. That he felt most poignantly.
Falling in love had ruined him for anyone else.
Bile rose in his throat. Chongyun tried to push himself up. He stumbled drunkenly into a hard shoulder, head throbbing. As the world grew heavy, he didn’t bother trying to steady himself—the dark wrapped itself around him instead, endless voices in his mind.
Salt in his mouth reminded him of his shame, the cost of his temporary happiness. He wanted to go home, to a place that no longer existed. His friends had been Xingqiu’s friends. He was beholden to no one.
He cried into a stranger’s embrace.
Do I get to keep you, too?
The promise rang hollow, unanswered, in his mind.
Time swept by in a blur. There were no eyes on him now, shadows melted into stillness. There was nothing left in the silence but Chongyun’s ragged, uneven breaths, and an old friend who saw right through his fears—the worst of him, down to the bone. With shards of the past embedded in his patchwork lungs, he was fractured on the inside; there was nothing left but raw muscle, a half-beating heart. Afraid to be ruined, to see himself in the ashes, Chongyun ruined everyone he loved and lost.
He didn’t want to go through this again.
With Xingqiu in his life, he’d never given anyone else a spare thought. It had always been unfair, but Chongyun couldn’t fix himself. Without Xingqiu, he was nothing. He couldn’t love anyone else. He couldn’t forget if he tried.
Without the drink, he could’ve never looked Gaming in the eyes.
Every relapse led him back to the same place. Whenever he and Xingqiu broke up, there was always room for him at the bottom of a bottle. This love had never been real—or perhaps, it had been the only thing in Chongyun’s life that was.
But when he passed out in Gaming’s arms, whether to death or destruction, he knew at least he’d be carried to somewhere warm.