He just let it all wash over him and settle in the back of his mind. It was always like this—getting caught up in the moment, forgetting what he was doing and who with, becoming totally overwhelmed with everything he was feeling.

The door in the corner opened. Weiran jolted upward. He had a keen sense of deja-vu—Xiaokai was coming out of the bathroom in a robe, toweling off his hair. He noticed Weiran was awake.

“Did you sleep well?”

“I—uh—” It was always awkward like this too.

“Spit it out.”

“Sorry about the—”

“About calling me Xingyu?” Xiaokai rolled his eyes and sat down on the bed beside Weiran, continuing to squeeze the water out of his hair. “Don’t worry about it. I’ve told you a thousand times that you should just pretend I’m Xingyu, and it isn’t like you can control yourself once we get going, anyway. We both got what we wanted out of it. Don’t be sorry.” He tossed his towel across the room. “Anyway. Do you mind if I hang out here for a bit? I could drive home, but I’m beat.”

“Oh, uh. Yeah, sure.” He’d never asked to stay before.

“Thanks.” Xiaokai crawled across Weiran’s legs to the other side of the bed and made himself comfortable against the extra pillows. At least his robe was closed this time, Weiran thought, but beyond that—Xiaokai had really beautiful legs. Long and slender. Xingyu had some muscle in his, but Xiaokai didn’t really. They looked graceful. Weiran wanted to put his mouth on them.

He looked away. “Are you going to contact Xingyu? He’s been worried about you.”

Xiaokai didn’t say anything for a while. Then: “You know, it wasn’t like I was just on vacation.”

“Huh?”

“All this time I was gone. It wasn’t my choice.”

Weiran looked over at him. He was peaceful. He leaned up against his pillow and the headboard and his eyes were closed and his hands were folded in his lap. “What do you mean?”

“Mm…do you remember all the names I gave you?”

“Of course I do.”

“Bai Xue.” A little smile quirked up at the corner of Xiaokai’s mouth. “Remember him?”

Remember? Even if he wasn’t the one Weiran had spent the most time researching with the least amount of results, he would still remember the way Xiaokai had spoken almost fondly of the man—or as fond as Xiaokai had ever gotten around Weiran. “Yeah,” he said. “I remember.”

“Sun Yue and Liu Baiyan called him in to interrogate me.”

“W-what?”

Xiaokai still hadn’t opened his eyes, still hadn’t lost that little smile.

“What do you mean ‘interrogate’? And—and why would an interrogation last for a week? What the hell happened?”

Xiaokai said, “Zhang Weiran, do you know the best way to control a person?”

Weiran’s mouth opened and closed.