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After changing into his pajamas and lying on the bed, Song Bunan found himself unable to sleep, feeling restless for reasons he couldn't quite grasp. He gazed around the room, which had returned to its normal state. A small nightlight, casting a dim yellow glow, sat on the bedside table, illuminating only a small area and adding a touch of warmth to the otherwise dark space.
His phone was not yet fully charged, resting within easy reach. The breathing light on the screen flickered with a soft white glow as it drew power. Once it was fully charged, the light would turn green and stop flashing; if it were daytime and not in sleep mode, it would even chime to remind him to unplug it.
Song Bunan knew what he would see if he turned on his phone: a message from Xin Yi. This word came from Xin Yi, the person he had come to realize he had feelings for only after Xiao Mei pointed it out loudly. He hadn’t replied; he didn’t know what to say, and after Xiao Mei confessed her own feelings for him, he felt too shy to say anything more.
Reflecting back to his school days, he realized he hadn’t really dated much at all—regardless of gender, the main issue was that he simply hadn’t. During family gatherings around holidays, he and his brother were often surrounded by relatives asking why they hadn’t found partners yet. Initially, only his brother faced the pressure, but once he turned eighteen, he too joined the ranks of those being urged to marry. He had planned to respond like his brother did—calmly explaining that he was focused on his career and studies—but before he could speak, his grandmother interrupted him: “We’ve given up on your brother; we can’t count on him. But Bunan, you need to give Grandma some hope!”
Left speechless, when he finally managed to escape in search of comfort, he saw his brother standing safely at a distance with a cup in hand, smiling at him: “It’s up to you!”
What nonsense! Even now, thinking back on that moment made him angry. Unfortunately, it seemed unlikely that any of his relatives would be satisfied with him because it appeared that he truly liked Xin Yi, who was even older than his brother.
But how could he have developed feelings for someone they had known for only a few days? Lying in bed and unable to figure out this question, Song Bunan rolled over to face the wall, avoiding the light as if forcing his mind to forget all worries and hoping for a peaceful sleep like before.
However, as soon as he closed his eyes, Xin Yi appeared in front of him, quietly eating something. The way Xin Yi ate was elegant; he would take a bite of rice followed by a piece of vegetable, chewing slowly until it was ready to swallow. The motion made his prominent Adam's apple slide up and down along with a small black mole on his neck.
In contrast to Xin Yi’s noticeable Adam's apple and the faint stubble that appeared after shaving, Song Bunan’s rarely grown facial hair and smooth neck had led others to question why he didn’t seem manly at all. In public situations where he would try hard to defend himself against such comments, alone at home he would find himself staring at his father’s razor in distress because deep down, he too felt that he wasn’t manly enough. He remembered once discussing this with his brother while trying to shave: “As long as you have what boys are supposed to have, whether or not you have this doesn’t change anything.”
Those words made Song Bunan incredibly happy; he silently noted them down in his mind for future retorts against others. As he turned around excitedly to leave the room, he heard the follow-up: “You just don’t look much like one.”
Xin Yi entered the room carrying new food. Before stepping inside, he had already thought about what message to send Song Bunan—a reminder for this child who stayed out late that day about needing to return early from the hospital. However, as soon as he opened the door and took a few steps inside, he saw someone sleeping soundly on the couch.
Song Bunan was sprawled out with a pillow resting on him; his glasses were askew from tilting his head and hung precariously on his nose. With his head tilted back against the couch and mouth slightly ajar, there was even a tiny bit of shiny drool at the corner of his lips. It seemed like he hadn’t changed clothes either; still wearing sneakers with both his phone and electric scooter keys placed beside him on the couch along with his bag. A half-full cup of water sat on the table—likely sipped before falling asleep.
Placing breakfast on the table, Xin Yi tiptoed over and gently sat beside Song Bunan. The couch sank slightly under their weight but didn’t wake him; instead, Song Bunan instinctively closed his mouth and licked away the drool from his lips.
He tentatively called out Song Bunan’s name; suddenly the sleeping figure sat up straight but didn’t open his eyes. He tried to speak but yawned instead. “What time is it…” The words came out so softly they barely registered.
“It’s just past seven,” Xin Yi replied quietly while reaching out to lift Song Bunan’s head which had nearly drooped down onto his chest. As soon as Xin Yi did so, Song Bunan leaned against him heavily like a sleepy cat.
The warmth of Song Bunan's breath seeped through their thin summer clothes onto Xin Yi's skin, causing beads of sweat to form on his back. He initially intended to help him into the bedroom for a proper rest but was caught off guard when Song Bunan wrapped an arm around his waist and murmured sleepily: “Bear bear.”
He recalled how Song Buxian once mentioned that their younger brother loved hugging bears while sleeping after seeing a colleague leave with one from the office. Having been pushed away by their parents at a young age to sleep alone at night had led both brothers to develop certain habits; for instance, Song Buxian needed matching pajamas while Song Bunan always required a bear hug.
From where Xin Yi sat, he could see that towering teddy bear standing beside Song Bunan’s bed—its long legs dangling off the edge—showing signs of wear. He remembered examining that toy closely during a previous visit; one ear bore clear signs of hand stitching while patches cut from clothing adorned its rear end and back of its head.
He had asked Song Buxian why they didn’t buy their brother a new one; the answer was simple: “He doesn’t want one—only this bear is his.” “How childish! Look at how worn it is! The stuffing inside is what I replaced when he stayed at school; it was nearly falling apart! But this kid is amusing—I even found two bouncy balls inside.”
“To him, those must be very precious things,” Xin Yi thought as he reached out to stroke the bear's head—it felt quite old and rough.
Now being hugged around the waist by Song Bunan allowed Xin Yi to clearly smell the scent of laundry detergent emanating from him—a faint jasmine fragrance reminiscent of when they first met. That scent brought back memories of their first encounter with Song Buxian: just before graduation when a freshman moved into their dorm looking rather cocky but exuding that same jasmine aroma.
After getting familiarized with each other later on, Xin Yi asked why such a big guy used that kind of perfume only to receive an unexpected spray of spit from Song Buxian: “Pfft! Real men don’t wear perfume! That’s just my mom’s favorite laundry detergent scent; my whole family smells like this.”
The scent was faint and elegant, but compared to the two brothers, it suited Song Bunan, the down-to-earth child, much better. He couldn't help but reach out to touch Song Bunan's head, which was softer than a doll and still warm. However, this action disturbed the person in his arms. The sleeping cat straightened up again, blinking its eyes open, yawning repeatedly with a dazed expression that clearly indicated it would soon fall back asleep.
" brother Xinyi, when did you get here?" The words came out sticky but were much clearer than before.
As the fourth yawn arrived, Song Bunan fully woke up. After a night without sleep, his mind felt foggy, and his temples throbbed with each heartbeat, causing a dull ache in his head. But at least he could open his eyes now, which was an improvement from when he first got home.
Just as he was about to take a sip of water, Xin Yi stopped him. "Drink some warm water; this cup has gone cold."
Seeing Xin Yi's back as he went to the kitchen made Song Bunan's heart skip a beat. He had clearly sensed that brother Xinyi was not in a good mood; even his tone had been heavier than usual. It must be because he hadn't communicated properly with him yesterday! Song Bunan shrank his neck, the last remnants of sleepiness completely vanishing. All he could do now was pray that Xin Yi hadn't told Song Buxian about his night out.
When Xin Yi returned with the cup of warm water and he nervously drank more than half of it, he finally heard Xin Yi ask, "What time did you come back?" The question was delivered in an extremely plain manner, devoid of any extra emotion—just an ordinary inquiry.
But this only made Song Bunan more anxious; his hand trembled slightly around the cup. He lowered his head and replied in a posture typical for admitting fault, "Around five in the morning. I couldn't sleep at Xiao Mei's place, so I rode my bike back."
He wasn't lying; he had indeed tossed and turned on that big bed until dawn. When the sky outside began to lighten, he felt very tired but unable to sleep. He got up, left a note for Xiao Mei, and headed towards where his small electric bike was parked. On the way, he ran into Uncle Meng, who asked if he wanted to have breakfast before leaving. After declining the kind offer several times, he rode off while Uncle Meng repeatedly reminded him to ride slowly and not run red lights. He meandered home along the sparsely trafficked roads.
He had intended to sit on the sofa for a moment before going to sleep but ended up dozing off against the back of the sofa instead.
"Are you not used to sleeping elsewhere?" Xin Yi suddenly asked after hearing his explanation. Caught off guard by the question, Song Bunan paused before shaking his head. "Not really; I just went to bed too late last night and didn't feel sleepy anymore. It's still more comfortable sleeping at home..."
Before he could finish speaking, Xin Yi suddenly grabbed his cheeks, forcing him to look up at him. As Song Bunan felt his face being stretched out, he saw Xin Yi's helpless smile.
"How can sleeping on the sofa be comfortable? Let's eat something and then go sleep in bed; we can go to the hospital in the afternoon."
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