Chapter Text
He Tian had left without saying a word. He hadn’t planned to leave—hadn’t prepared for it. He’d fallen into patterns, into an almost normal life. But then they’d snatched up Jian Yi and he had to follow. So, he didn’t look back, because he knew if did—he might not have been able to go. He never looked back, never looked up his Mo or asked anyone to check in on him. He just left. But, try as he had, he could never quite get the redhead out of his head.
They’d been back in town a few days—off their father’s leash and in the wild. Jian Yi had gone straight for Zhan Zhengxi. Predictable even now. It was almost shocking to see him fall back into his old behavior—like he was still that helpless, stupid kid.
He Tian hadn’t looked for Guan Shan yet. He wasn’t sure he would. What was he going to find? What was he going to say?
He Tian had been at that club that night by chance, sitting at a VIP table with the owner and a handful of others—all bootlicking to get in good with the family now that his brother, He Cheng, was running the house. It was a flashy club, all neon and shadows and throbbing music. It was the hottest place in the city.
He Tian saw him, without looking—without meaning to. His attention slid through the crowd and landed on the bar near the center of the club, lit up from inside with a light blue glow. The bartenders were practically dancing back and forth, pouring drinks and trading them out for cash. They were all beautiful, but he saw Guan Shan first and forgot the rest. His heart quickened, gaze fixed as he studied him. It had been years. A part of him had been terrified Guan Shan was dead or in jail—he’d had a temper.
He looked very alive. He poured drinks, rolling glasses and bottles like a practiced dance along long, slender fingers. His tank top hung off him, flashing glimpses of his sides, of his ribs and the hints of tattoos. He was pale and defined, skin glossy with sweat and body bouncing with the throb of music as he worked. He looked good—healthy—happy. He whispered something in another bartender’s ear and the woman laughed and nodded. He smiled—but it was that same, wicked smirk that He Tian had been obsessed with as a kid.
“See someone you know?” the woman beside He Tian asked, only vaguely interested.
“The bartender…Who is he?” He Tian asked instead of answering.
She hummed, leaning over to follow his gaze. She owned the club and the hotel above it. “Red?”
He looked at her when she said it, eyebrow raising.
The woman laughed easily and leaned back into her seat, picking up her champagne. “I don’t remember their names, darling. We call him Red and he goes by it here. Good kid. Hard worker.”
He Tian looked at Guan Shan again. “Does he hook?” he asked, deadpan, hiding how his heart clenched in his chest. That had been another fear of his, hadn’t it? His Guan Shan would do whatever he could to survive.
She laughed. “That one? No. But I can find you another…”
“No. Tell me about that one.”
“Well, you’re not going to buy Red, darling. Others have tried.” She sounded only vaguely annoyed that Red wasn’t up for sale. “He works a few jobs—thinks I don’t know—but he’s a hustler and worth looking the other way. As long as he’s never late for a shift here.” She puffed smoke between words, all of this dull to her.
He Tian hadn’t taken his eyes off Guan Shan. One of the guests was leaning over the counter, yelling, drunk. Guan Shan had focused on the big guy, nodding and talking—trying to calm him down. The guy wouldn’t settle. He reached out, trying to grab Guan Shan, but Red slid back easily out of his grip. A grin flashed over Guan Shan’s lips—still wild—and with his left hand he tossed a drink in the customer’s face. Before the droplets had even settled, he threw a right hook and knocked the guy back and onto his ass on the floor, clearing a little circle.
Guan Shan shot an arm in the air, hooked a finger and twisted his wrist, and the bouncers came rushing over, gathering the guy up off the ground.
“You usually let your bartenders punch your clients?” He Tian asked, hiding his delight.
The owner laughed. “I do when it’s Red. They call it his kiss. The rest of the guests love it. He’s feisty. Like I said—there’s no selling that one. He has a bit of a fan following in the club circuits—we had to poach him from another joint.”
He Tian nodded and then, somehow, tore his attention from Guan Shan and went back to a normal conversation with his company. He managed to only peek, glancing now and then at the bar while pretending to scan the floor.
And then, an hour later, Guan Shan was gone.
Panic shot through his chest. He spotted him moving to the back room of the club, through a dark door with a keypad for staff only. Another bartender was taking his place.
He Tian excused himself, thanking the owner for showing him around before slipping away. He went around the building, into the quiet streets, and down the side alley to the back door. And then he waited.
It took all of ten minutes before the door smacked open and Guan Shan and the other bartender he’d been working with poured out in street clothes and jackets.
Guan Shan froze, two steps for the door, when he met his gaze.
He Tian wasn’t sure what he expected to see, but it hadn’t been the surprise and relief that first washed over the redhead’s face. Relief gave way to confusion and then—oh yes, there it was—he was pissed. He took another step forward and swung his fist at He Tian.
He could have ducked. He could have caught his arm.
But he didn’t. He took the punch, because he deserved it.
“No, fucking, way,” Guan Shan growled before storming away.
The girl he worked with had gasped, but hurried to catch up with him. “Who the hell is that?” she asked.
“A ghost,” Guan Shan answered.
He Tian thumbed the blood from the corner of his mouth and smiled darkly. Day one—and he already got a kiss.
He Tian wasn’t EXACTLY stalking Guan Shan. He was just curiously observing him. Really, it wasn’t his fault the redhead was this bad at noticed someone tailing him.
He’d gone from the club last night to a café with his coworker. For a split second He Tian had worried she was his girlfriend. She was bubbly and she hung on He Tian, but then her boyfriend showed up and she left with the other guy. He Tian stayed a while longer at the café before leaving around three in the morning and going to a 24 hour gym. He trained and then showered and came out in fresh clothes. Then he went to a job at a bakery around 5.
He Tian sat in a café across the street, answering emails and texts on his phone, assuring his brother he hadn’t fucked anything up and was keeping an eye on Jian Yi. And then he sent Jian Yi a text, telling him he was watching him—which was a lie. He was not. But Jian Yi was with Zhengxi and that guy was completely boring. What trouble could they possibly get into?
At 9:30, the waitress put a cup of coffee in front of He Tian that he had not ordered. He looked at it and then up at her. “That isn’t mine,” he said, a hint of a smile in chase he wanted to charm her.
“It’s mine,” Guan Shan said and He Tian’s eyes widened a fraction, grin breaking out when the guy walked over and sat down. “But he’s paying,” the redhead told the waitress. She smiled and slipped away.
He Tian was impressed, glancing at the front of the café and then at Guan Shan again.
“I came in the back,” he explained flatly and sipped his coffee.
“You knew I was here.”
Guan Shan shrugged. “You’re not my first stalker.”
He Tian wasn’t sure how to feel about that, but right now the redhead was sitting across from him and that seemed monumental. Could it be that easy? Would they just fall back into old habits?
“I don’t know what you’re doing here or why you’re following me—but knock it off,” Guan Shan said. He’d lost a lot of his energy since the club earlier that morning.
“You missed me,” He Tian said boldly.
Guan Shan looked like he might laugh and then nodded once, surprising He Tian. This wasn’t the same insecure, angry kid he’d fallen for. “I was pretty sure you were dead,” he admitted casually, looking He Tian up and down with no lack of appreciation. “But you’re not. So get the fuck back out of my life.”
He Tian grinned. “No.”
Guan Shan looked serious then. “I’m not doing this again. You were a bully.”
“You loved it.”
Guan Shan nodded once. “Yeah. I did. But I’m not playing with you anymore. We weren’t friends…we were almost something but it didn’t happen.”
“It could happen,” He Tian said before thinking. Was he really doing this? How could he resist? All he wanted was to touch Guan Shan. He wanted to see if he still trembled—if he would blush. He was pretty sure he wouldn’t, and that was exciting.
Guan Shan shook his head tightly but He Tian could already see it, he wanted to give in. His Guan Shan always wanted to be tempted.
“We would have been terrible,” the redhead said.
“How so?”
He sighed. “You hated the world and I hated myself. We were a disaster. It’s a good thing things ended when they did. We could have really hurt each other. We would have been like mixing dynamite and matches.”
He Tian grinned. “Which one of us is the dynamite?”
“Does it matter? We’ll blow up.”
“Are you afraid?”
Guan Shan laughed then. “I’m letting you off the hook, man. You didn’t crush my heart when you left. I’m fine. But I’m not that kid anymore.”
He Tian nodded slowly. “I see that.”
Guan Shan nodded too, like that concluded things. He took another drink from his coffee, somehow downing hot caffeine, and then stood up.
He Tian caught his wrist, his skin hot under his fingers, electric in how the contact sent chills down his spine. “You’re still a liar though,” he whispered sweetly.
Guan Shan glared. “What?”
“You miss me.”
The redhead tried to pull his wrist free but He Tian held on, feeling his pulse quicken through his skin. “I don’t.”
“Liar.”
“I’m not. I’ve moved on. We never even fucked!” he snapped, not caring how people around them looked and whispered. That was his Guan Shan, bursting with emotion. Wild. “I don’t miss you, He Tian. I didn’t even know you.”
“Liar.” He Tian stroked his thumb across the inside of Guan Shan’s captured wrist, standing to tower over him.
Guan Shan’s lips curled in a snarl and he jerked his wrist free. “Prove it!” he snapped.
He Tian smiled and reached up, fingertips touching Guan Shan’s hair, sliding across his temple and into his scalp, stroking the shell of his ear before he caught the little black stud between finger and thumb. “You’re still wearing them.”
Guan Shan’s eyes went wide and then, to He Tian’s surprise, they went teary. His nose wrinkled, jaw flexing stubbornly when he refused to cry. “Fuck you,” the redhead spat before turning and storming out of the café.
He Tian watched him go before he sighed. He dropped a few bills on the table and left, but didn’t follow his redhead—not yet. He had no intention of giving up the chase, not now or ever—not as long as his Guan Shan still wanted him. He had grown and changed but he’d only become more of who he always was—more wild and free and bold. Guan Shan was a storm and He Tian was dying for rainfall.