The Cannon Fodder Who Fell in Love at Art School - Chapter 14

“Syth!”

In his panic, Fang Chen called out his name. He should’ve pushed the man away and jumped down but for some reason, maybe just pure instinct, his arms tightened around him instead.

Syth deliberately paused mid-step.

The barn was silent, so quiet that even the boy’s quickened heartbeat echoed softly in the space between them.

Their bodies were pressed close. The man’s hands, roughened with faint calluses from boxing, were gripping Fang Chen’s legs, the texture of his skin brushing lightly enough to tickle.

If he could, Syth really wanted to pull him apart and take a better look. How could his skin be that soft? It felt like warm, pliant jelly under his palm.

He thought, If I really were some deranged killer, I would’ve never let him go that first time we met.

He wouldn’t have killed him. No, He would’ve chained him. But not in that abandoned factory, and not here in a dusty barn.

No, it would’ve been at his estate.

He’d have carpets of white goose down covering every inch of the floor, but he wouldn’t let the boy wear shoes. Fang Chen would wander barefoot, dragging golden chains as he ran aimlessly, only to be caught again pulled into his arms, trembling and crying.

He’d take him outside, too into a garden of roses he planted just for him, beside a butterfly fountain built in his name.

But all of it would exist within walls too high for the boy to ever climb. He’d never let him escape.

The thought made Syth’s eyes darken. His Adam’s apple moved with a quiet swallow.

“Don’t move,” he murmured, voice low and rough. “It’s dark in here.”

He didn’t stop again, simply carried Fang Chen out of the barn.

So he was just teasing him.

Fang Chen sulked, fuming in silence as Syth carried him for quite a while before he finally came back to his senses and kicked his legs twice.
“Why are you carrying me?”

Did he have to pick him up every time like this?

So what if he was short!

Did he think he didn’t have any dignity left?!

Syth ignored his protest, carrying him easily with one arm. Only after stepping out of the barn into the open yard did he finally set him down.

The boy glared up at him, puffed cheeks betraying his irritation.
“Stop picking me up all the time!”

“Hugging someone is considered pretty intimate where I’m from.”

Syth said it lazily, then added with an amused lilt, “Oh? Then what about when you touched me before? Is that a casual thing where you’re from?”

Fang Chen’s face turned scarlet in an instant.

Damn it! Why didn’t this man lose his memory?!

He ducked his head and hurried away. “I don’t know what you’re talking about!”

Syth suppressed a laugh and followed beside him, changing the subject. “Can’t sleep?”

Who says I can’t?  Fang Chen shot back defiantly. “I could fall asleep this second if I wanted to.”

They’re lighting a bonfire, Syth said, deliberately drawing out his tone. “I came to get you. But if you’re really that sleepy.

Fang Chen stopped dead and turned his head. “Bonfire?”

Syth’s gray-blue eyes gleamed faintly with amusement as he looked at him, unhurried and teasing.

Playing with fire on a farm is dangerous, Fang Chen said seriously. “Let me come along to protect you all.

As if he could actually protect anyone. In a real emergency, he’d probably be the one getting scooped up again before he could even run.

But Syth nodded solemnly anyway. “Thank you.”

By the time they arrived, the bonfire was already burning bright.

Joey spotted them from afar and waved enthusiastically. “Hey, little lamb!”

Little lamb?

Then what was he supposed to call him? Kissing guy?

Still, Fang Chen obediently lifted his hand and waved back. “Hi, Joey.”

Man, your alcohol tolerance sucks!” Joey laughed loudly. “You passed out after one can of beer.

Fang Chen lowered his head in shame.

Even he felt regretful now.

Do you really think you can handle alcohol?

 Syth’s cool voice came from beside him.  Then next time, don’t use ‘going to the bathroom’ as an excuse to sneak off, alright?

Joey:

Right. He almost forgot this little lamb had a Syth right next to him, watching like a hawk.

Joey raised his hands in surrender. “Okay, okay, let’s drop it.”

Fang Chen looked at the two of them and couldn’t hold back a laugh. But just as the corners of his lips lifted, Syth suddenly turned his head toward him. Their eyes met, and the man’s lips curved ever so slightly.

What are you laughing at?  Syth asked.

Fang Chen immediately stopped smiling and glared at him.

And why are you glaring at me? Syth pressed, dead serious.

This man…!

Did he have to question everything out loud?!

Fuming, Fang Chen huffed,  In my country, people are more reserved. They don’t ask about everything.

Syth frowned. “Why not?”

Fang Chen straightened his face. And there you go again.

Syth paused, then took a small step back. “Alright, I won’t ask. You can teach me instead, okay?”

“Teach you what?”

The customs of your country, etiquette, relationships, and how you express emotions. Syth’s voice slowed. “And the language.

Fang Chen caught only that last part, his eyes widening. “You want to learn Chinese? Why?”

“I’ll be traveling abroad for competitions,” Syth said smoothly. “It’ll come in handy sooner or later.”

Fang Chen hesitated. Forget it. You’re rich you can hire a proper teacher.”

Syth looked at him steadily. “I believe you’d make an excellent one.”

Fang Chen froze, breath catching slightly.

Hey! You two!” Joey shouted from across the fire. Are you gonna stand there talking all night, or what? Come join us.

The breath Fang Chen had been holding was finally released.

He didn’t look at Syth again and instead jogged off toward Joey. “I’m coming!”

Syth narrowed his eyes slightly as he watched him go.

He remembered when he’d first started boxing, how he practically lived in the gym, young and desperate to prove himself in the ring.

But his coach had told him: Don’t rush. Only when your foundation is solid can you deliver a killing blow.

Like a wolf lurking in the shadows, it never strikes until it’s sure of its prey.

By the time Syth walked over, Fang Chen had already blended into the crowd, dancing around the bonfire with Joey and the others.

They were singing an English song. Fang Chen didn’t know the words, but he hummed along anyway, hopping and bouncing. Surrounded by a bunch of burly men, he looked like a soft little lamb that had accidentally wandered into a pack of wolves.

When the song hit its climax, everyone raised their bottles. Fang Chen lifted his, too but his was filled with orange juice. He didn’t dare touch alcohol again.

Syth naturally moved to stand beside him, watching as Fang Chen’s dark hair bounced with every jump, his eyes gleaming in the firelight.

He didn’t continue their earlier conversation. Instead, he asked quietly, “Do you feel dizzy after drinking?”

Judging by the boy’s energy, clearly not but he asked anyway.

“Nope!”

Fang Chen wanted to explain that his alcohol tolerance wasn’t usually that bad, but decided against it. He simply raised his cup of juice. “But I’m not drinking again, ever.”

Syth smiled faintly at that.

After a few seconds, Fang Chen added, “When I first met you, I thought you were scary. But now I realize you actually have a good temper you smile a lot.”

Syth didn’t confirm or deny it. “Is that so?”

No one had ever called him good tempered before. Nor did he smile often.

In truth, he rarely even bothered to lift the corner of his mouth around others.

The night burned ona  bonfire, music, and laughter.

It was the kind of atmosphere that made people lose themselves.

Fang Chen sang off-key and danced out of rhythm, his movements clumsy but full of life.

No one laughed at him.

To Syth, watching from beside him, the sight was utterly disarming like a small, white lamb bouncing right across his heart.

He almost wanted to swallow him whole.

It was past midnight by the time everyone finally dispersed.

Syth walked Fang Chen to his cabin door. “Will you be okay sleeping alone tonight?”

Fang Chen bristled. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

Aren’t you easily scared?

“I am not!” Fang Chen snapped.  It’s just because you guys keep telling creepy stories.

“That wasn’t me.”

Syth paused, then added,  If you get scared, call me.

“I said I won’t!”

Fang Chen huffed, stomped into the cabin, and slammed the door shut though one pale arm reached out at the last moment to give a lazy wave goodbye.

Syth’s lips twitched faintly as he watched the door close.

Inside, Fang Chen showered, left the light on, and climbed into bed with his blanket.

He wasn’t sleepy the long naps from earlier had ruined that so he flipped through the photos he’d taken during the day.

He picked a few where his face wasn’t visible and posted them on Twitter.

Barely two seconds later, a notification popped up.

Saoirse: Are you drunk?

Drunk?!

Of all the things to say!

Fang Chen propped his chin on his hand, huffed, then frowned slightly. The username looked familiar. Hadn’t this person commented before?

Curious, he clicked into the profile.

Ten minutes ago, Saoirse had posted a photo of just the upper body, revealing a sharp jawline and a gray T-shirt that clung to firm muscle.

Or maybe it wasn’t tight maybe it was just his muscles stretching the fabric.

You could almost see the shape of his chest through it.

Do all foreigners have bodies like this?

Fang Chen politely gave it a like, then exited the page.

He’d started using the app because of Jamie it was supposed to help him practice English and make foreign friends. But in the end, it had just become another version of his social feed.

Meanwhile, just a wall away, Syth sat on his sofa, frowning at his phone.

He rarely used social media, but he’d happened to see the app on Fang Chen’s phone once.

Was the picture not good enough?

Why hadn’t Fang Chen replied?

He sat there, cigarette between his teeth, unlit, scrolling up and down repeatedly.

No updates.

Fang Chen had only given him a like.

But that like… was heart-shaped.

What did that mean?

Was Fang Chen hinting at something?

For a fleeting second, Syth’s mood lifted then just as quickly darkened again.

Because Fang Chen didn’t know Saoirse was him.

So what did that mean?

He could just throw heart emojis at any muscular guy online?

Didn’t he say people from his country were reserved?

Syth’s expression turned cold. After a moment’s thought, he deleted the photo.

He didn’t want Fang Chen to see it anymore.