Weiran wasn’t sure whether he was supposed to say something. Whether Xiaokai wanted him to say something. Whether he was supposed to kiss those marks, fasten his mouth to them, or if he was supposed to pretend they weren’t there at all. What did Xiaokai want from him? What did Xiaokai want from anyone?

ON NEW YEAR’S Eve, Xiaokai had an early-afternoon appointment with the List member named Xu Runshen, about whom Weiran knew far too much about, especially regarding his sexual preferences. Afterward, though—and this almost made up for the fact that Xiaokai had begun to tell Weiran in detail about his appointments—Xiaokai was back in room five-two-zero. He was willing at last to take off his clothes, and he braced himself against the wall as Weiran, his vision clouded with visions of Xingyu, pounded into him. Afterward, just like always, Xiaokai got out of bed, took a short but efficient shower, and dressed all while Weiran was still tangled in the sheets and trying to pull himself out of his fantasy.

“Do you have any plans for New Year’s?”

Xiaokai looked over his shoulder at him. He was standing at the mirror and fixing his hair after tying a perfect knot against his neck. “There are a couple parties around the city. I’m supposed to drop in and attend a few of them.”

How thrilling, Weiran thought. “Nothing tonight?”

“I prefer starting my year with a long, romantic night of sleep,” Xiaokai said. “I think Xingyu’s free, though. You could call him.”

“Gross. You’re really going to say that right after we had sex?”

“I didn’t say you had to have sex with him. I thought maybe you’d get brave enough for a kiss, at least.”

“I’m not—god.” Weiran groaned and dropped back into the mattress. “You’re always so impossible.”

“If you weren’t leading up to asking about Xingyu, what are you asking me for, then?”

“Because I’m making conversation?” Weiran was never going to get used to the way Xiaokai talked. Hell, the way he just existed. Being around Xingyu was difficult because Weiran was in love with him—being around Xiaokai was difficult because he was Xiaokai.

But, yeah. He didn’t mind Xiaokai, not much. Not anymore. Even if his most tolerable self was when he was writhing around Weiran’s dick.

“Okay, well, here’s me continuing the conversation: Xingyu’s probably going to stop by here whether you call him or not.”

Weiran sat up again, maybe too fast. “What? Why?”

“He realized that you’re probably sick of staying cooped up here. I think he plans on bringing you some candy or something. I don’t know. I didn’t listen to him when he explained his plan.”

Weiran felt a little fluttering in his chest. “Oh, that’s…kind of him.”