—

Old Town is close to the Preparatory Academy — ten minutes by car, if that. The alley narrows quickly, and Lu Heyang pulls over to the curb and walks in alongside Xu Ze.

Xu Ze has a long reflex arc; only now does the worry arrive, whether Lu Heyang might find the food unfamiliar. He hesitates, then offers a small warning: "The shop is small. It might not be very clean, either."

"It's fine." Lu Heyang glances at him, smiling. "I used to eat at roadside stalls with Yun Chi all the time."

Xu Ze relaxes a fraction, tries to keep the thread going: "What about He Wei?"

Somewhat surprised he keeps asking, Lu Heyang says, "He Wei was abroad the past few years. He only transferred back this semester."

"You all… have a good relationship."

For no reason he can name, Lu Heyang finds himself thinking Xu Ze is like an AI earnestly trying to communicate with humans — very sincere, very clumsy. Lu Heyang nods. "Yes. The three of us grew up together."

Something flickers across Xu Ze's face — a look as though he meant to say something, but in the end he only presses his lips together and says nothing more.

The sky is overcast, the sort of grey that promises rain. The shop is already crowded, full of workers stopping in for dinner after their shifts. Lu Heyang and Xu Ze find a small square table in the corner — one side against the wall, the other flush against a few cases of beer — and end up sitting at opposite corners, with no other choice.

"What do you want to eat?" Xu Ze asks.

The shop is loud. Lu Heyang can't hear Xu Ze's voice, but he can read the shape of the question on his lips. Still, he says, "What?"

Xu Ze leans in, close enough that his mouth nearly brushes Lu Heyang's ear. "What do you want to eat?"

"Same as you." Lu Heyang answers.

"Cilantro and scallion? Vinegar and chili, too?"

"None of it."

Xu Ze nods and rises to place the order. He stands at the counter — very tall, a few little-bear band-aids stuck crookedly across his throat — and looks so young he doesn't belong here at all.

Not just this shop, but everything Xu Ze inhabits: the Octagon Cage among them, with all its violence and blood.

Halfway through the noodles, the downpour begins outside, and Xu Ze starts worrying again. He doesn't mind getting rained on — it's nothing, he never carries an umbrella when he's alone — but that doesn't stop him from holding it as a fixed truth that Lu Heyang must not be touched by the rain.

Lu Heyang's mobile phone rings again. He glances at the screen and tells Xu Ze, "I'm going out to take this."

Through the window, Xu Ze watches Lu Heyang standing in the corridor. Rain streams down from the eaves and lands some twenty centimeters short of him. Lu Heyang's expression is cool, his lashes lowered; every sentence he says is short, the manner of a man who does not want to linger on the call.

He hangs up quickly, returns to the shop, settles the bill, fills two cups of water, and sets one down in front of Xu Ze.

"Aren't you going to finish eating?" Xu Ze asks.

"Mm."

"Then you should head home early." Xu Ze takes a sip of water and stands. "Wait — I'll go buy an umbrella."

Lu Heyang catches his arm. "Why buy an umbrella?"

"It's raining," Xu Ze says.

"I know. The car isn't far. We can just run for it."

Xu Ze, rarely insistent: "You'll get soaked."

Lu Heyang asks him, "Afraid you'll get wet, or afraid I'll get wet?"

"Afraid you'll get wet." Xu Ze looks down at the water cup on the table, and answers honestly.

"I'm in decent shape. A little rain isn't going to knock me down with a cold." Lu Heyang picks up the car keys. "Run."

They plunge into the rain shoulder to shoulder, sprint the short alley, wrench open the car door and tumble in. Ten seconds, maybe less, and still they're soaked in large dark patches. The engine hasn't turned over; the stale air inside is laced with the wet they carried in, everything faintly tacky, even the pheromones damp. Night has come. Rainwater on the windshield flows like a dark river, and the drops keep drumming on the roof — and yet seem very far away, because Xu Ze can hear only his own breathing and Lu Heyang's.

"Tissue," Lu Heyang says. "Wipe off."

Xu Ze reaches for the tissue box and accidentally grazes the back of Lu Heyang's hand. He starts to pull away, but Lu Heyang catches his hand and presses it down on the box. "Here."

"Mm." Xu Ze's throat is dry, a little hoarse; he swallows, and finds he can barely breathe.

He pulls out two sheets of tissue, but instead of wiping his face or his hands, he fumbles at the car seat he has dampened. Lu Heyang watches him for a few seconds in the dimness, then suddenly reaches out, cups Xu Ze's jaw, and drags his thumb across his cheek. His hand is wet; Xu Ze's face is wet. Lu Heyang asks, "Why aren't you wiping where you should?"

The faint pheromone on Lu Heyang's fingertips reaches him, and Xu Ze's face flares hot. "I'll just shower when we get back."

Lu Heyang says nothing. His hand drops, slides down the side of Xu Ze's neck, and then he starts the car.

It's only a five-minute drive, but Xu Ze notices Lu Heyang keeps flicking his eyes to the rearview mirror and the side mirror. He can't make out Lu Heyang's expression, only that something has been wrong since that phone call in the noodle shop.

The car stops downstairs; the corridor is only a few steps away. Xu Ze is about to say goodnight when Lu Heyang gets out with him and runs into the building.

The rain shows no sign of letting up. Lu Heyang stands at the mouth of the corridor, turns to look out into the downpour, his brow faintly furrowed. His arms are sheened with rainwater. Xu Ze doesn't think twice — reaches to wipe it off for him — and is met with Lu Heyang's hand, raised to block him.

Xu Ze freezes. Lu Heyang rarely shows such a clean, blunt refusal. His hand hangs in the air for a second, maybe two, before it slowly lowers.

"Sorry," Xu Ze says, low.

Lu Heyang looks at him and offers nothing in response to the apology. A silence passes; then he says, "Go upstairs."

They climb the stairs one behind the other. Inside, Xu Ze goes to boil water, then pushes open the bedroom door and finds a clean towel. Lu Heyang stands by the window, parts the curtain a little, and looks down at the street below, head bowed, at something Xu Ze cannot guess.

When the water is ready, Xu Ze pours half a cup, tops it with half a cup of cold, adjusts it to warm, and carries it into the room.

He keeps his distance from Lu Heyang, standing by the desk. Outside, the rain pours down in sheets; Xu Ze feels as though his own heart has been set out in it, struck and lifted, struck and lifted. He thinks, and thinks again, and finally asks, "What's wrong?"

Lu Heyang turns his head toward him and smiles, faintly. "A little tired."

The smile Xu Ze cannot describe, and he cannot think how to comfort. He is only a helpless bystander.

Xu Ze holds the cup in one hand and peels the band-aids from his neck with the other — they sit uncomfortably against the rain-damp skin. When he looks up, Lu Heyang is staring at his throat.

"You should head back and rest early." Xu Ze is still searching for the right words to make Lu Heyang less tired, but the moment they leave his mouth he knows they're wrong. He tries again. "The rain's heavy. Driving is dangerous — maybe you should…"

He doesn't finish. The sentence dies in his throat because Lu Heyang is suddenly walking toward him. Xu Ze steps back without meaning to and bumps the desk; then an arm hooks around his waist and pulls him forward, and Lu Heyang's hand presses the back of his neck as he bends his head. Hot breath draws close; a sharp pain blooms along his throat. Xu Ze grunts. The paper cup slips from his hand and water splashes across the floor.

He's been bitten. His first instinct is not to push Lu Heyang away, but to wrap his arms around Lu Heyang's neck.

If the price of closeness is pain, Xu Ze would choose certainty without a second's hesitation. Pain is the thing he has never been afraid of.

Lu Heyang keeps his teeth in Xu Ze's neck while one hand slips under the hem of his shirt and finds the small of his back. Xu Ze's eyes go wide, his pupils lose focus on the air ahead, his breathing quickens. Lu Heyang's gland is very near him — held in check by the wristband, the pheromone leaks only a little, but it is enough to sting Xu Ze awake, and his body answers with a surge of its own, instinct pushing him to release more in answer.

His gland jumps hard, twice, three times; pheromone drives the blood through him in a hot, unruly current. Xu Ze lets out a low, involuntary sound. Lu Heyang's breath hitches — and then his teeth loosen.

The light is not bright enough. In the shadow, Lu Heyang sees a blood-red bite mark laid over the bruise on Xu Ze's neck — no blood, only a faint gleam of saliva catching the dim.

Rain hammers the window. There is no other sound in the room. Lu Heyang pauses a few seconds, then drags his tongue over the place he has just bitten.

Xu Ze tightens his arms around Lu Heyang's neck at once, a tremor running through his back.

Lu Heyang is plainly letting something out. Xu Ze does not mind. If Lu Heyang is unhappy, he is willing to be the place that unhappiness goes.

A long moment passes. Lu Heyang lifts his head, and Xu Ze meets his eyes. Xu Ze has always been a poor dissembler — the moment Lu Heyang comes near, his nervousness writes itself plainly across his face.

They look at each other for a while. Lu Heyang slides his hand from the small of Xu Ze's back, lets it rest against his waist through the fabric of his shirt, and says, "Don't look at me like that."

Xu Ze nods and looks somewhere else.

He doesn't want to, either. If there were a medicine in the world that could keep a person's gaze from settling on Lu Heyang, Xu Ze would be the first to buy it, so that his troublesome eyes wouldn't become a weight Lu Heyang had to carry.

"Earlier, downstairs — were you angry?" Lu Heyang asks.

Angry isn't quite the word. Xu Ze's temperament seems to have been born without that particular gear; even if he had it, he could never turn it on Lu Heyang. He is only a little low, that's all — but no rule says Lu Heyang must consider his feelings, nor anyone else's.

"It's fine." Lu Heyang told him not to look, so Xu Ze answers the electric fan instead. He still hasn't taken his arms from Lu Heyang's neck, greedy for a few more seconds.

Lu Heyang counts Xu Ze's lashes and says, "If it's fine, then there's no compensation."

The sentence is enough to make Xu Ze look at him again, dazed. "Compensation?"

"Mm." Lu Heyang's hand drifts a fraction lower, from Xu Ze's waist to the curve of his hip. "Do you want it?"

"Yes." Xu Ze could not refuse. Without quite meaning to, his fingertips find Lu Heyang's hair; and, rare for him, he makes a request. "Can I choose?"

"Sure. What do you choose?"

Xu Ze holds his breath for a few seconds, tilts his head up, and presses a kiss to Lu Heyang's forehead.

He looks at Lu Heyang with a steadiness that reminds one of a wish made over a blown-out candle. "I hope you're not unhappy."

Lu Heyang's mobile phone rings again, but he looks at Xu Ze without moving, and only speaks once the phone has gone quiet. "Okay."

The rain has eased a little. Xu Ze leans his hands against the windowsill and follows the receding taillights with his eyes until they vanish around the corner.

He touches his neck — the place Lu Heyang bit is hot and swollen. Xu Ze turns back to the desk and pats the little-bear band-aids dry with tissue. No blood on them, no dirt; he folds them one by one and wraps them in a fresh sheet.