Chapter 76 - Getting used to

Chapter 76: Chapter 76 - Getting used to

By the time Jua’s crying eased, he was exhausted.

His arms had begun aching around Mao Mao’s shoulders, but he couldn’t quite make himself let go. Whenever he closed his eyes, he saw the hospital room again. The child sitting beside the bed, promising to behave. The young man returning from his father’s funeral with nowhere else he wanted to be.

Mao Mao held him patiently through it, one hand supporting his back while the other rested against his hair. He had stopped asking what was wrong. Now he simply stayed close, adjusting his hold whenever Jua’s breathing caught.

Jua finally drew back enough to look at him.

There were tears on his face too.

He stared for a moment, then lifted a hand to Mao Mao’s cheek. The man went still beneath the touch.

"Why are you crying?"

Mao Mao glanced down, almost embarrassed. Jua wiped beneath one eye with his thumb, then did the same on the other side. His fingers were clumsy with fatigue, and he had to pause with his hand resting against the man’s jaw.

"Because you were crying," Mao Mao whispered.

Jua’s mouth trembled.

Such a simple answer, given without any attempt to hide how much it had affected him.

He pulled Mao Mao close again.

When he first woke, he hadn’t known what to do with this grown version of the child he remembered. Everything had seemed unfamiliar—the height, the deep voice, those broad hands moving over him with such confidence. He had kept looking for the little boy beneath it all, then becoming unsettled whenever the man did something he couldn’t reconcile with that memory.

But this part of him was familiar.

The way he waited for Jua to decide whether he could stay close. How quickly his attention caught on any sign of discomfort. Even now, with Jua’s arms around him, he held himself carefully, afraid of putting too much weight against his weakened body.

Jua rubbed his back.

He couldn’t give him the years he had missed. He didn’t even know how to begin speaking about them yet.

For now, he could at least stop making him sit beside a bed.

"Lie down."

Mao Mao lifted his head.

"Here?"

Jua shifted against the pillows, making room as best he could.

The bed was large enough for both of them, though Mao Mao still looked at the space with an uncertainty that made Jua’s chest hurt. He had carried him upstairs and settled him here without asking, yet now he seemed unable to believe he was being invited to stay.

Jua caught his sleeve and gave it a small tug.

Mao Mao removed his watch and set it on the bedside table. Then he lay down slowly, keeping enough distance that Jua had to reach for him again.

"Come closer. I can’t stretch that far."

A faint smile touched the man’s mouth.

He moved within reach, and Jua settled an arm around his shoulders. It was an awkward fit. Mao Mao was too tall now to curl against him the way he used to, and Jua didn’t have the strength to shift either of them very much.

After a little adjustment, they found something comfortable.

Mao Mao rested with his head near Jua’s shoulder, one arm loosely around his waist. Jua could feel his warmth through their clothes and the occasional deep breath he took, as though he was trying to calm himself without drawing attention to it.

He slipped his fingers into Mao Mao’s hair.

It was softer than he expected.

For a while, neither of them spoke. Jua stroked slowly from his forehead toward the back of his head, repeating the movement whenever the man stirred.

He remembered doing this with a much smaller head beneath his hand. Mao Mao would fight sleep, insisting he wasn’t tired while his eyes kept closing. Sometimes he held Jua’s clothes even after he drifted off.

Now the hand at his waist gradually relaxed.

Jua looked down.

Mao Mao’s eyes were closed, though the faint crease between his brows hadn’t disappeared.

He smoothed it with his thumb.

"You can sleep," he murmured.

The arm around him tightened briefly.

Jua continued stroking his hair until it loosened again. Little by little, the man’s breathing deepened, his face settling more heavily against the pillow.

Jua stayed awake for a while, listening.

It was a relief to hear something so ordinary after the memories. No frightened calling, no effort to hold back tears. Just the steady breathing of someone who had finally become tired enough to rest.

His own eyes began to close.

He left his hand in Mao Mao’s hair and fell asleep beside him.

When Jua woke, someone was watching him.

He knew who it was before he opened his eyes properly.

Mao Mao lay on his side facing him, one arm beneath his pillow. His hair was untidy, flattened on one side and sticking up slightly on the other. There was a crease on his cheek from the bedding.

He looked younger like this.

Jua blinked at him, still too sleepy to speak.

The man’s face lit up.

It happened so quickly that Jua felt a small ache behind his ribs. Mao Mao’s eyes widened, then softened, and his smile spread as though something wonderful had just happened.

"You woke up again," he whispered.

Jua’s hand shifted against the sheet.

Of course he had.

The answer almost left his mouth before he understood why Mao Mao had said it.

He had gone to sleep beside him. For Jua, that had been the end of a difficult day. Mao Mao had still needed to wait and see whether he would open his eyes in the morning.

Jua moved his hand toward him.

Mao Mao met it halfway, gathering his fingers gently into his palm. He looked at their hands for a moment, then leaned closer and touched his lips to Jua’s.

The kiss was brief.

Jua’s eyes widened as Mao Mao drew back just far enough to look at him.

"Some demonic energy to recharge you."

There was a hopeful warmth in his voice, but this time he didn’t immediately close the distance again. His thumb moved lightly over Jua’s fingers while he waited.

Jua could have turned away.

He knew that Mao Mao was watching for it. The man’s gaze flickered between his eyes and his mouth, his smile becoming uncertain as the silence stretched.

Jua was still getting used to him.

That hadn’t changed overnight. Neither had all the questions waiting between them. But the man beside him was warm from sleep, his hair a mess, looking absurdly pleased simply because Jua was awake.

Jua lifted his free hand and touched his cheek.

Mao Mao’s breath caught.

For a moment, Jua only looked at him. Then he moved a little closer.

The next kiss came slowly.

Mao Mao’s lips brushed his once, lightly enough that Jua could feel the hesitation. Jua closed his eyes, his fingers resting against the warm skin near his ear.

He hadn’t intended to do more than accept it.

Then the pressure eased, and he found himself following the small movement rather than letting the kiss end.

His lips parted slightly.

Mao Mao went still for a heartbeat before kissing him again.

The hand holding Jua’s loosened, allowing him to move freely, while the other settled against his side. He drew closer without pulling Jua toward him, letting their mouths meet more fully.

Jua felt the difference at once.

Yesterday he had been caught off guard, struggling to make himself heard. Now there was time to notice the softness of Mao Mao’s lips, the warmth of his breath, the way his hand paused whenever Jua moved.

A gentle current of demonic energy passed between them.

It spread warmth through Jua’s chest, but he found himself paying less attention to it than he should have. His fingers had slipped into the hair near Mao Mao’s ear, and the man made a quiet sound when they tightened.

Jua’s face grew warm.

He had meant to accept a little energy. That explanation was becoming less convincing with every moment he remained close.

When he finally eased back, Mao Mao stopped immediately.

They lay looking at one another.

Jua was painfully aware of his hand still tangled in the man’s hair.

Mao Mao glanced at it, then smiled—a smaller smile this time, almost disbelieving.

Jua released him and cleared his throat.

"You don’t need to look so pleased with yourself."

"I’m trying not to."

He plainly wasn’t succeeding.

Jua looked away, though he left his hand resting between them.

A moment later, Mao Mao placed his own beside it, close enough that their fingers touched.

Jua tried to sit up, only for his stiff shoulder to object. Mao Mao immediately reached behind him, helping him against the pillows before fixing his tangled hair.

Watching that ridiculously happy face, Jua sighed.

"Breakfast first. Then you’re showing me that cultivation book."

Mao Mao’s hand paused.

"All right."