Paper Plane

When the car drove into the community, Yang Xuan turned the steering wheel and asked, "What building is it?"

Only then did Tang Junhe come back to his senses: "No. 6."

The community is a little roundabout, and the building numbers are not clearly arranged. Yang Xuan drove forward around the path: "A rented house?"

"Ok."

"Do you mind if I go up and have a look?"

He asked so directly that Tang Junhe couldn't react for a while. Tang Junhe leaned his head on the back of the seat and stared ahead for a while, until the car stopped in front of Building No. 6.

He wanted to ask Yang Xuan in what capacity he went up to have a look, whether it was because of his brother's concern or his old lover's care, but in the end he didn't ask anything, just lowered his head and unfastened his seat belt and said, "I don't mind."

He opened the door and got out of the car. Alcohol paralyzed his brain, and his feet were unsteady when he walked. Yang Xuan got out of the car door on the other side and came over to support him.

When they got into the elevator, Yang Xuan didn't retract his arm, it was still on Tang Junhe's shoulder. Tang Junhe leaned his back against the elevator, turned his face sideways and looked up at Yang Xuan steadily. Yang Xuan's hand holding onto his shoulder tightened a bit, and led him to his side, perhaps because Tang Junhe's eyes on his face were too undisguised, a few seconds later, he He also turned his face to look at Tang Junhe.

Tang Junhe's drunken eyes made Yang Xuan feel a little familiar, innocent and seductive, and those two lips were burnt red with strong alcohol. like ripe fruit. The young boy who was young at that time has also matured, and he has become Dr. Tang who can do a job with ease.

"Who taught you to drink?" Yang Xuan's voice was very low, sounding a little hoarse.

Tang Junhe sensed the long-lost desire surging in the air, not only from him to Yang Xuan, but also from Yang Xuan to him—he had seen Yang Xuan's emotional state, and even after so many years, he could still tell the difference. Under his brother's indifferent appearance, is he indifferent or emotional.

"Many people taught me," Tang Junhe looked at him and said slowly, "Mai Ze, Ding Li, Jiang Zhengshuo..."

They were all unfamiliar names, Yang Xuan frowned slightly: "Who are these?"

Tang Junhe smiled a little: "Guess." He looked into Yang Xuan's eyes, trying to find a trace of care in the past ten years, but Yang Xuan turned his head at this moment and landed on him. The hand on his shoulder rose and stroked his hair.

No more, Tang Junhe's sluggish brain thought a little bluntly, the emotion is gone, the desire is gone, it seems to have messed up.

He looked at Yang Xuan, but ten years later Yang Xuan was still taller than him, when Yang Xuan turned his face away, he couldn't see the emotion in his eyes.

After getting off the elevator, he walked in front and unlocked the door, opened the door to enter, and reached out to turn on the light. The one-bedroom apartment is more than forty square meters, which is just right for one person.

The cat nestled on the sofa jumped down lightly, and walked towards Tang Junhe with its paws, but when it saw an uninvited guest behind him, it looked at Yang Xuan vigilantly and yelled, "Meow—".

"Sit down first, I'll wash your face." After Tang Junhe finished speaking, he put the paper on the coffee table, walked into the bathroom and closed the door. The kitten tried to follow him in, but was blocked from the door. It raised its paw and scratched the door, but there was no response from inside, so it had to turn around and walk back angrily.

Yang Xuan looked down at the cat—it looked like an ordinary orange domestic cat, a small one, a little shy, and would deliberately walk away from him, with a limp on its right hind leg. The kitten walked to the corner, lowered its head and pawed at the empty food bowl.

Tang Junhe turned on the faucet, bent down and splashed cold water on his face a few times, and the dizziness was slightly relieved. He straightened up and leaned his back against a wall, the cold tiles sticking to his back through the fabric of his clothes.

He looked at the bright overhead light in the bathroom with some absentmindedness, and when he thought of Yang Xuan just outside the door, his heart couldn't stop beating violently in his chest.

He was drunk, not only he knew this, but Yang Xuan must also know it very well, so why did he follow him?

God knows what was going through his mind when Yang Xuan hugged him upstairs, about desire and hormones, about the previous skin-to-skin date, about the secret, ulterior and immoral relationship ten years ago. He always avoided thinking about these things, but the memory of them never faded.

What Yang Xuan said back then was right, sometimes a good memory is not a good thing.

Desires and yearnings after drunkenness are extremely difficult to restrain, they seem to be mixed with alcohol, follow the blood into the heart, and then seep into the limbs and bones, tumbling eagerly.

Since Yang Xuan left ten years ago, Tang Junhe's mental state was very bad for a few years. Since then, his desire has become extremely weak, and the occasional self-blasphemy is only out of physical needs. Pass yourself hastily.

And now that Yang Xuan is back, his desire seems to be coming back aggressively—it’s really strange, it’s been ten years, Tang Junhe thought a little dazedly, is the current desire about the Yang Xuan from ten years ago, or is it about the door? What about Yang Xuan's outside?

Maybe he could do something absurd when he was drunk, just pretend he was completely drunk—he was drunk, but he was just a little bit closer to unconsciousness—alcohol is the best excuse anyway, isn’t it? And as for what will happen when I wake up tomorrow, let's talk about it after I wake up. After all, in a person's life, there are too many waking hours, but only a moment of ignorance. It is rare to be ignorant.

Tang Junhe raised his arm and wiped the water on his face indiscriminately. Just as he was about to reach out and open the door, his phone rang. He took it out and looked, it was Mai Ze.

Picking it up, the other side asked: "Are you home yet?"

"It's here." Tang Junhe said.

"Is that really your brother?" Mai Ze asked with interest.

"Yeah." Tang Junhe leaned back against the wall again.

"I've never heard that you have a brother! I thought you suddenly became enlightened and let yourself go while you were drunk."

"You think I'm going to have a one-night stand?"

"Hahahaha, it might not be a one-night affair, it could be many nights~ By the way, your brother looks pretty cool, next time give us a few introductions, let's have a meal together, or it's really not Too daring to strike up a conversation."

"Let's talk about it next time." Tang Junhe said with his head down.

In the living room outside the door, Yang Xuan walked up to the kitten, squatted down to look at it, and then reached out and stroked the top of its furry head. The kitten immediately arched its back as if it was facing an enemy, shrank back to the corner in fear, and stared at him with round eyes.

Yang Xuan's hand stroked the top of its head again and again, but the kitten did not relax at all.

There was a mobile phone ringing in the bathroom, followed by Tang Junhe's voice. Yang Xuan was a little distracted when he heard the voice coming from the door, and his movements slowed down.

The kitten, who had been tensing its back, saw the right moment, stretched out its paw, and quickly scratched the back of his hand.

Only then did Yang Xuan come back to his senses, and looked down at the back of his hand—two blood marks were scratched out.

He looked up at the kitten, who shrank its paws back.

Tang Junhe finished the phone call and came out of the bathroom. Yang Xuan was squatting with his back facing him, and the kitten was cowering in the corner.

Hearing the sound of footsteps, Yang Xuan stood up, and quietly copied the scratched hand into his pocket.

Only then did the kitten dare to leave the corner, and huddled up at Tang Junhe's feet.

"It's a little scared of strangers." Tang Junhe bent down and hugged the kitten.

"How old is it?" Yang Xuan asked.

"I don't know, I picked it up downstairs, maybe four or five months."

"what is it call?"

"Thirteen."

"Thirteen," Yang Xuan repeated, and asked again, "Why is it called this?"

"The one I picked up on the thirteenth day is called Thirteen." Tang Junhe looked down at the cat.

"It's related to you." The kitten calmed down in Tang Junhe's arms, and Yang Xuan reached out and touched its head twice, and then said, "Then I'm leaving, you should rest early."

Tang Junhe looked up at him.

Yang Xuan smiled suddenly, the meaning was unknown, then rubbed Tang Junhe's hair with the hand that touched the cat, retracted his hand, walked to the door, opened it and walked out.

Tang Junhe stood in the living room, watched the door close, stood there for a while, the cat in his arms let out a low cry, he bent down and put the cat on the ground, watched it run away, and sat on the sofa by himself He leaned his head back against the back of the chair, staring blankly at the snow-white ceiling.