Heal These Battle Scars | MxM

Chapter Twenty-One - Let Xiao Fang Sleep

Xiao Fang wasn't sure what to expect when he confessed his feelings to Wang Yi a month ago at the shooting range. He wasn't too keen on the outcome, the follow-up, the aftermath — nothing, really. However, laying on his side only inches apart on the wooden floorboards inside Yi's dorm room, an arm folded, cushioning at the back of his neck, staring deep into Yi's eyes, basking in the warmth that those eyes gave him, he never thought to imagine that anything would've led to this far between them.

It felt surreal — he must've been dreaming because only in his dreams had he been able to feel carefree, at ease — as if all his problems were nonexistent. It must've been a dream, a dream he rather lived the rest of his life in.

In the beginning, Yi often shied away and turned his back — looking anywhere else instead of looking at Xiao Fang. It wasn't something to fret about. It was understandable, as expected. However, sometimes, there were some exceptions, some boldness in how he would stare at Xiao Fang from head to toe in a scandalous manner. Or how he would kiss Xiao Fang hungrily before apologizing as if he had done something wrong.

Other than that, nothing much changed between them. Although they still had different responsibilities, different beliefs, and different judgments, their conversations were ordinary like before, though less venomous and more thought out. They spent more time together, too. Yi had painted him while he slept at Yi's desk. On different days, Yi had sketched his fingers, his eyes — his lips and legs, and his smile. Yi had told him he wanted to sketch him bare — wanted to look at it at all times. Xiao Fang had to think about it, but he wasn't against the idea.

On other days, while Yi tried teaching him to sketch, he tried teaching Yi the difference between wild herbs — the ones used to heal, and the ones used to kill.

Sometimes, Xiao Fang had forgotten about the war.

Sometimes he chose not to think about it.

As the morning sun pierced through the windowsill, it scorched Xiao Fang's skin. It scorched Yi's skin, too, turning him pink and flushing. "What are you thinking about?" Xiao Fang asked in a quiet tone, eyeing the glints of sweat seeping down Yi's neck like crystals or diamonds. "Do you regret anything? About this? About us? Yi?"

Yi clicked his tongue before turning over on his back, staring up at the ceiling fan, spinning in slow movements, making a ticking noise in the silent room. "I regret nothing." Yi shrugged his shoulders lightly.

"Then what's wrong?" Xiao Fang insisted on asking.

Yi twisted his head to the side, looking Xiao Fang in the eyes. "My father is coming here," he got out in a strangled voice. "I got the letter this morning. He's coming here."

Confused, Xiao Fang wrinkled his forehead. "Why is he coming?"

"I don't know," Yi resorted sharply. "All I got in the letter was a notice to prepare for his arrival. I don't know what he wants. Something must've gone wrong — or it must be something important. Otherwise, he wouldn't waste his time coming here — not in the middle of a war. I know my father. He would never come unless something big came up."

Xiao Fang felt his blood turn ice — he was sure his face had gone pale despite the high temperature.

Immediately, the images hammered into Xiao Fang's brain of Zichen. Images of that wretched bastard's venomous tongue throwing insults at Xiao Fang through the prison cell because of the scandalous act he witnessed between Xiao Fang and Yi in the shooting range.

Zichen had told him he would learn his place. Had told him that Yi couldn't save him — that Yi couldn't save himself. Could Wang Yanzhen's sudden visit have anything to do with what happened that day? Had Zichen done something? Said something? A message, perhaps? If he had secretly sent out a letter, Yi wouldn't have noticed.

Xiao Fang knew it was wrong to keep this a secret from Yi, but if say something — if he only opened his mouth — all this sinful bliss would be gone in a heartbeat.

Worst of all, Yi might hate him.

He did not want Yi to hate him.

"Let's — let's not talk about your father." Xiao Fang faked a stiff smile as he dragged himself closer to Yi. On his stomach, he plopped himself on his elbows on the floor while his face hovered above Yi's. Yi had a tender look on his face, but he eyed Xiao Fang suspiciously. Though, if Yi had noticed something off about Xiao Fang's behavior, he said nothing. "Let's not worry, okay?"

Staring up at Xiao Fang, Yi used his thumb and he lovingly wiped away sweat from Xiao Fang's upper lip. "Then what do you want to talk about, Fang-ge?" he asked.

Xiao Fang didn't know what he wanted to talk about. However, he was sure he didn't want to talk about Wang Yanzhen. If he talked about Wang Yanzhen, he might as well confess to Yi about what happened that night.

"I don't want to talk about anything," he replied dramatically, laying his head on Yi's chest. "I think I'm running out of things to talk about."

He liked listening to Yi's heartbeat. Unlike before, Yi's heart no longer thundered — or hammered because of Xiao Fang's closeness. He liked that Yi no longer felt nervous. Had no more anxiety, no agitation. Yi felt calm in his presence.

"Then what do you want to do?" Yi asked, his breath fanning close to Xiao Fang's forehead, sending shivers across his spine.

"Let's just stay like this," Xiao Fang replied, closing his eyes.

"I have things to do, you know?" Yi muttered, wrapping his arms around Xiao Fang's back in a tender embrace while still blankly staring up at the ceiling as if his thoughts were elsewhere. "I'm going to Lu Ba this mid-day. Wen Han is going with me. I'm sorry that I can't take you."

"It's alright," Xiao Fang grumbled.

"I'll bring you back Jiaozi," Yi said, stroking his fingers through Xiao Fang's hair. "Do you want anything else? Tanghulu? Do you want sunflowers, Fang-ge? There's this old man there. The last time I went, I saw him selling — I. Nevermind. What about rice cake? Xiao Fang?" Yi crocked an eyebrow, staring down at Xiao Fang. "Are you even listening to me?"

Having scarcely slept a wink all night, "I didn't get much sleep last night," Xiao Fang mumbled instead, nuzzling his face deeper into Yi's chest like a cat purring on its owner. Yi smelt like burnt peppermint oil. He liked it, loved it. "Let me sleep, okay? Only for a little bit."

"Fang-ge, don't you want to sleep in the bed?" Yi offered. "It's more comfortable there."

"No," Xiao Fang pouted. "Right here."

Yi gave a scoffing little laugh at Xiao Fang's childishness. "Yes, but I have to go —"

"Let me sleep, Yi."

A defeated sigh fell from Yi's lips. "Alright, you can sleep," he said, putting one arm under his neck to ease the tension from the wooden floorboards while he kept the other on Xiao Fang's back. "But just for a while, okay?"

"Mmm, promise," Xiao Fang said, hiding a victorious smile against Yi's chest.

++++++++++

Three dragging hours later, Xiao Fang still lay slumbering peacefully on the floor.

Yi had not moved an inch while Xiao Fang snuggled against his chest, having one long leg over Yi's legs, forcing the younger man to lie motionless throughout the entire time.

It wasn't until one o'clock in the afternoon that Xiao Fang woke up, smiling up at Yi — a bright, blinding smile.

That afternoon, Yi ended up late for his travels.

Truly, truly late.