The Cannon Fodder Who Fell in Love at Art School - Chapter 23.2

The air around them seemed to freeze.

Xis exhaled heavily, his gaze dark as he rasped out a single word. “Big?”

The boy’s cheeks were flushed from the red wine. Awkwardly, he gestured with both hands. Really it just slides right off when I put it on.

Xis stared hard at the shirt hanging on Fang Chen’s body, as if trying to see straight through the thin fabric. But after a long moment, he forced himself to look away. I’ll have someone send over a new one.

Fang Chen made an “OK” sign, pressing it over one eye, and blinked through the circle.

It was so endearingly silly that it almost short-circuited Xis’s composure.

He gritted his teeth, the vein at his temple throbbing, his voice rough. Go back to your room and wait.

Any longer, and he wouldn’t be able to hold back.

But Fang Chen shook his head. “I’m not sleepy yet. Didn’t you say we could play games? Where’s the game disk?

He muttered as he crouched down, rifling through the drawer under the cabinet. As he bent forward, the hem of the oversized shirt rode higher from his knees to his thighs, and then higher still. He wasn’t wearing anything underneath.

Xis’s breath caught. His eyes darkened, the veins in his neck straining.

He cursed under his breath.

Then he strode forward, caught Fang Chen by the waist, and lifted him right off the ground. The boy’s round backside was suddenly right in front of him. Xis’s patience snapped. He raised his hand and gave one sharp smack. “Back to your room. Don’t come out until you’ve got underwear on.

The crisp sound cracked through the air. Fang Chen froze, dazed. The alcohol haze evaporated in an instant.

Did Xis just hit him? On the butt? While he wasn’t even wearing?!

Fang Chen’s face turned a shade redder than when he drank, the color spreading all the way to his ears. For a beat he just stared, stunned and then he began kicking and flailing wildly. “Holy sh1t! You hit me?! Bastard! Put me down! I’ll fight you!”

Xis’s face was tight. Putting him down was out of the question; the boy was struggling so hard he had to hold onto his shirt to keep it from riding up completely.

By the time he carried him into the bedroom and set him on the bed, Xis’s neck bore several angry red scratches.

The moment Fang Chen hit the mattress, he glared up, fists clenched. Don’t think I can take you.

Xis caught the little fists in one hand and looked down at him coolly. Oh? You like fighting people with your ass bare?

Fang Chen’s eyes went round, and he snatched his hands back, hurriedly covering his behind.

Just then, the doorbell rang.

Xis gave him one last long look before turning and leaving the room.

As soon as he was gone, Fang Chen rubbed his sore backside furiously.

That jerk! Did he even realize how strong he was?!

Xis returned with a shopping bag, setting it on the bedside table.

 “Go change.”

Fang Chen shot him a glare.

“Get out!”

Xis gave a short laugh. He hadn’t minded walking around half-naked in front of him before now he suddenly remembered modesty.

Still, he said nothing and stepped out, closing the door behind him.

He didn’t usually smoke in front of Fang Chen, but tonight the tension was too much. He bit a cigarette between his teeth, chewing on the bitter taste.

From the floor-to-ceiling window, he could see the city lights below blurred and watery under the rain, like an out-of-focus film reel.

But what he saw, behind his eyelids, was the boy in his shirt, bare-legged and bright-eyed.

Clean. Beautiful. Tempting.

On the sofa lay another shopping bag the one the assistant had brought with the rest.

A set of home clothes.

Xis hadn’t given it to Fang Chen on purpose.

If he were honest, he preferred him in that shirt.

Even if.

He glanced at the closed bedroom door.

The boy probably wouldn’t come out until morning.

Rain drummed softly outside.

And Xis couldn’t tell whether keeping him here tonight had been a mistake whether it would only make things between them worse.

The next morning was chaos.

Fang Chen, hair sticking up in all directions, was in the middle of punching his pillow like a training bag.

Serves you right! Who told you to drink?

You never learn!

Last time you touched his abs, this time you ran around half-naked what’s next? Sneaking into his bed?

He pounded until the pillow was deformed, but the memory foam stubbornly puffed back up.

Panting, Fang Chen collapsed backward.

Oh no, oh no, oh no!

He wished he could stay in this room forever and never face Xis again.

But only a few minutes later, a delicious smell drifted in through the crack under the door.

He sniffed the air seriously.

This… smelled like trouble.

Two seconds later, he caved. Crawling to the door, he pressed his nose against the gap. It smelled amazing. Was that chicken stew?

His stomach growled loudly.

Unable to resist, Fang Chen opened the door and stalked out, trying to keep his face stern, like he was marching into battle.

So what if he’d been naked? That didn’t mean he deserved a spanking!

Sneaking into the kitchen, he froze when Xis turned and caught him.

“Morning,” Xis said evenly, as though nothing had happened last night. I made chicken noodle soup. Go wash up you can eat after.

Fang Chen’s bravado vanished instantly. Morning, he mumbled.

Then he realized he was still wearing Xis’s wrinkled white shirt from last night. His face burned again.

He didn’t notice the way Xis’s gray-blue eyes darkened, the way they traced from the loose collar down to the bare stretch of leg under the hem.

That was his prey.

Sooner or later, he would make him his.

I’ll go change first, Fang Chen stammered, bolting for his room.

Xis turned off the stove, a faint smile playing on his lips.

At the table, the contrast was almost comical.

In front of Fang Chen was a steaming bowl of noodles in rich chicken broth, topped with a golden fried egg and a side of fresh orange juice.

In front of Xis dry toast, salad, and black coffee.

Fang Chen slurped happily, barely looking up. You’re just eating that?

Stirring his coffee, Xis asked casually, You have classes today?

Mm-hm. Two.

I’ll pick you up after.

Fang Chen paused mid-slurp, confused.

Why did that sound like they were living together?

If not for last night, he might have agreed. But now, some instinct told him to run.

Wiping his mouth, he shook his head quickly. I already made dinner plans with Jeming. I’ll go straight back to the dorm.

Xis could tell he was lying, but he didn’t call him out.  Then what about tomorrow?

I’ve got plans too.

Under that steady gaze, Fang Chen’s voice grew smaller.

Xis finally lost patience, setting down his cup with a quiet thud. You’re avoiding me, aren’t you?

Fang Chen looked away. “No, I’m not.”

Then come tomorrow, Xis said, his tone softening. If you finish your study plan, I’ll take you out at night.

Fang Chen blinked, tempted. Out where?

Secret.

He pouted but eventually nodded. Fine. He was only going for fun this had nothing to do with Xis.

After breakfast, Xis drove him to school. Fang Chen insisted they stop in a side street.

What, are you embarrassed to be seen with me? Xis asked, displeased.

You’re not embarrassing you’re famous, Fang Chen muttered. If people see you on campus, they’ll take pictures.

So what?

They’ll misunderstand. After Halloween, the school forum already thought we were a couple.

Xis studied him. Did that make you mad?

Fang Chen’s breath hitched. He looked down.

 “Just drive. I’ll be late.”

The engine roared, the car speeding off down the road.

After watching Fang Chen disappear, Xis leaned back in his seat, eyes closed.

Calls came in; he ignored them. Ten minutes later, he drove back to the apartment.

If it weren’t so close to campus so convenient for luring Fang Chen over he wouldn’t come here so often.

At the door, he ran into the cleaning lady and told her firmly, “Don’t touch the guest room. I’ll take care of it.

Inside, the room was tidy. The bed was made, and neatly folded on top was the white shirt.

Xis stared at it for a moment, then picked it up.

He lowered his head to it first then, unable to resist, pressed his face into the soft fabric.

It had only been a lie at first, but after two classes, Fang Chen was so restless he actually called Jeming out for dinner.

They met at a basement chicken joint known for its amazing hot wings. Jeming ordered three portions like he were planning to bankrupt him.

Fang Chen, however, just sipped his juice and sighed.

What’s wrong with you? Jeming asked.

“Nothing.”

Jeming snorted. Please. You’re looking at the most qualified relationship counselor in New York. Don’t waste this chance.

Fang Chen hesitated. I have a friend.

Stop, Jeming cut in. “What happened with Xis?

Fang Chen ducked his head, embarrassed. “I think he’s… stringing me along.

“How so?”

He’s nice to me, asks me out, but won’t make things clear.

Fang Chen said, frustration creeping in. “It’s so unfair.

Jeming frowned thoughtfully. You’re this cute, and he’s still pretending? 

Even Xis can’t be that cold.

When are you seeing him next?

Tomorrow… Fang Chen mumbled.

Jeming smirked and beckoned him closer. Come here, I’ve got an idea.

“So mysterious? You’re whispering now?”

Of course. VIP-level secret.

The next morning, Fang Chen woke up to his alarm, groggy but determined.

After a quick wash, he grabbed his bag and ran downstairs it felt like he was late for an early class.

Their routine had become strangely natural. Xis took the bag from him and ruffled his hair. Hungry? I made dumplings. They’ll be ready when we get back.

You mean you made dumplings? Fang Chen corrected him, eyes lighting up. You can do that too?

 Easy, Xis said simply without mentioning that he’d been up since dawn preparing.

“You ever think about opening a Chinese restaurant?  Fang Chen teased.

Xis smiled. You can start by treating me as your personal chef. Orders welcome.

He really did cook well.

As Fang Chen ate, he found himself studying Xis’s hands.  Maybe it’s because your hands are big that you cook so well.

Xis paused, then turned his palm over, enclosing the boy’s hand in his.

Fang Chen immediately curled his fingers, but that only made them easier to hold.

Xis had always believed a fighter’s fists had to be harder than stone but he’d never known someone’s hand could feel like this, soft yet heavy enough to knock the breath out of him.

He didn’t know how to want him less.

Heat crept up Fang Chen’s arm, and he pulled away quickly, pressing his lips together.

After a moment, Xis broke the silence. Ever been to a bar?

“Huh?”

Joey opened a boxing-themed one. I’ll take you tonight.

Both of Fang Chen’s metaphorical ears perked up. 

Boxing-themed? With a ring?

Of course. There are even live matches.

His eyes sparkled. “When do we go?”

When you finish today’s study plan.

Flop!

The little lamb collapsed on the table, defeated.