Xiaokai snorted. “And you also felt like you were totally in love with Xingyu and like you couldn’t breathe without him, and look where that got you. Now you think you’re in love with his brother.”

Weiran’s hands dropped away from Xiaokai’s face.

“Listen, I don’t want to just sit here with these ice socks all night. My legs are getting numb, and the sheets are getting wet. If you aren’t going to fuck me or suck me off or something, can I go?”

“No,” said Weiran. “Stay here.”

“Xingyu is going to be here in, like, half an hour, and I don’t think I can explain this situation to him without you getting embarrassed and Xingyu seeing something he hasn’t seen since I was six, so…”

“Okay, take the socks off.”

“Which ones? The ones I’m wearing, or—”

Weiran just took the ice socks away from him and went to toss them in the bathroom sink. Then he came back and opened the first aid kit he’d brought. “Let’s put a compress on it, then. I have some cream we can put on it, and then I’ll wrap them.”

“I can do that myself. When I get home.”

“Just hold still. Please?”

Xiaokai groaned and held still while Weiran very deliberately applied cream, and then just as deliberately wrapped each limb with cloth bandages. “Why don’t you just listen to me? You don’t need to do all this just because you think you’re in love with me.”

“I don’t just think I’m in love with you. I am in love with you. And even if I wasn’t, I would still take the time to help you bandage up.”

“Would you really? So you would have helped me even when you still thought you were in love with Xingyu?”

“If I saw this, yeah.”

“You just told me you hated me. You would have bandaged me up with my dick in your face while you hated me?”

Weiran made a face at him. “I feel like your dick wouldn’t be in my face in that situation.”

“Are you sure? I’ve stripped for people who hated me a lot more than you did.”

“I don’t really want to hear about that.”

“If you really loved me, you could bear it.”

Weiran kissed him again. Xiaokai flicked his forehead.

“Stop that.”

“How much time do we have?”

“Twenty-five minutes, give or take. Are you all packed and ready to go?”

Weiran ignored him to do something on his phone. “Put on your pants.”

“What? Then I get to go?”

“No. Put your pants on.”

Xiaokai toed off his shoes and put on his pants. “Now what, Mr. Zhang?”