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“Chug! Chug! Chug! Chug! Chug! ”
Jin Ling is seated at the end of the low table in the living room, surrounded by his friends and, humiliatingly enough, his family--Jingyi and Zizhen along one side, with his jiujiu, Uncle Wei, and a particularly rowdy Auntie Mianmian on the other, and at this point it’s hard to tell who among them is leading the ridiculous chanting. On top of the chanting, there’s music from the surround sound speaker system and a lively group conversation happening around the kitchen counter, with laughter drifting over to the living room every few minutes. It’s nearly midnight, but in the comfortable seclusion of Jin Zixuan’s winter cabin on a softly snowy night, they can be as loud as they want. Unfortunately for Jin Ling.
“Alright, alright, calm down!” Jin Ling shouts over the commotion, slapping the card in his hand onto the table face-up--the offending fourth and final king in the deck. With a bigger scowl than usual, he reaches for the at-first-glance unassuming plastic cup in the middle of the table, which is about two-thirds full. Of what, Jin Ling barely remembers, and doesn’t want to think about too hard before deciding to just go for it. With everyone at the table only chanting louder after he picks up the cup, he screws his eyes shut and chugs the atrocious concoction down as fast as he can.
Jin Ling survives, somehow, and only needs to spend a few seconds gagging while the table erupts in cheers. “I’m gonna go get. Something. To get this taste out of my mouth, holy shit,” he mutters, scrambling to his feet to run to the kitchen.
“This is the best vacation ever,” Zizhen says, leaning back from where he’s seated to lay sprawled out on the floor. “Can we come here every year?”
“You might have to bring your parents next year if they’re not traveling for work,” says Sizhui, who’s holding a platter of desserts as Yanli and Wangji clear the table of cups and cards to make space for it. Zizhen sits up again, eyeing the platter in Sizhui’s hands. “A sacrifice I’m willing to make,” he says.
“Not like you have to ask permission from the people who own the house or anything,” Jiang Cheng mutters across from Zizhen. And from where he’s seated on the sofa, Zixuan glances at Jiang Cheng with a look that can only be described as a quiet approval.
Jin Ling is on the bench by the bay window leaning heavily against the glass while waiting for his stomach to settle when someone joins him.
“Hey,” says Jingyi, holding out a bottle of water. “You okay?”
Jin Ling takes the bottle. “I haven’t thrown up on you yet, so there’s that."
“I and my designer Old Navy hoodie thank you,” Jingyi replies. He looks over at where everyone has now gathered in the living room for dessert. “Looks like things are winding down.”
“Good,” says Jin Ling, sitting up properly and opening the water bottle. “I’ve had enough of you all for the time being.”
“Go to bed then, old man,” Jingyi teases.
“Maybe I will. It’s my house, I can sleep early if I want to.”
“It’s technically still your dad’s house,” says Jingyi, and he easily blocks the pillow that comes flying at him, and then picks it up from where it fell on the floor. “Go to bed,” he says, throwing it back at Jin Ling.
“I almost spilled my water!” Jin Ling complains, but Jingyi is already halfway across the room yelling for Sizhui to save him the last chocolate chip cookie.
~~~
It’s half past two when Jingyi steps out of his room, and he quietly shuts the door behind him, a neatly folded blanket in hand. He places his other hand on top of it gently, the fabric familiar under his fingers, even in the dark.
“I still can’t believe my parents kept the same sheets from when I was a kid,” Jin Ling says, arms crossed behind his head as he lays comfortably on the bed. “But I guess it doesn’t matter much since we only come to this cabin like once every year or two. Would’ve been three if I didn’t bring you here this year.”
Jingyi is sitting with a pillow in his lap, and he runs his hand along the sheets, briefly wondering how expensive they were. “We should come here every year,” he says softly, not entirely sure if he wants Jin Ling to hear it, but he does.
Jin Ling sits up, and his eyes meet Jingyi’s. “We can, if you want,” he says just as softly but with an edge of eagerness, because there’s a question there that both of them can hear without needing him to say it out loud.
Seeing the way Jin Ling’s eyes shine when he looks at him, Jingyi thinks to himself that this is all he could ever want. “I’d love that,” he says.
Jin Ling smiles, and it’s small but bright, and Jingyi feels the warmth from it settle in his chest like it’s always belonged there. There is none of the usual hardness in Jin Ling’s eyes, only an unabashed fondness that tugs at Jingyi’s heartstrings until he’s left with no choice but to close the gap between them with a kiss.
Jin Ling is sitting on the rug in the living room directly in front of the fireplace, curled up into himself, unmoving. Jingyi watches him for a moment after he reaches the bottom of the staircase, briefly considering going back up to his room before he finds himself taking a small step forward, and then another, and another still.
“...Jin Ling?”
Jingyi had tried to speak softly so as not to startle him, but Jin Ling still jumps a bit, eyes going wide before they find Jingyi.
“Sorry, I--” Jingyi stops, suddenly unable to get the words out. For a moment, there are only the deep orange flames of the fireplace casting light on the two of them, crackling softly into the silence that surrounds them. There are things Jingyi wants to say. Things he shouldn’t. Things he never knew how to. Things he’d never wanted to admit...but this isn’t the time for any of them. So instead he says, “Thought you might want this. I don’t need the extra blanket.”
He holds out the blanket for Jin Ling to take. Jin Ling only stares at it for a couple seconds before looking up at Jingyi again.
“It’s late,” he says to Jingyi.
There’s another pause, and then Jingyi gestures with the blanket again. “Take it.”
Jin Ling fusses for a bit longer, wriggling around in the bed to find just the right spot to be comfortable, and he nearly shoves Jingyi off the other side in the process.
“Babe," Jingyi says, reaching an arm out to grab Jin Ling and pull him against his body so that he stops moving.
“I’m trying to get comfortable,” Jin Ling says, slightly muffled with his face shoved into Jingyi’s chest. Jingyi releases him from his grasp and repositions himself so he can look Jin Ling in the eye.
“You can relax,” Jingyi says. “You already kicked all the blankets off the bed and we haven’t even done anything exciting yet.”
Jin Ling immediately looks down and around him to see that there really are no blankets left on the bed. “Oh…”
“What am I to do with such a troublesome young mistress,” Jingyi sighs, wrapping his arm around Jin Ling’s waist.
Jin Ling huffs in response to the nickname and says, “Whatever. I don’t need the blankets anyway as long as you’re here. You’re warm enough to heat a small family home through the winter.”
Jingyi pulls him in again and hugs him tight. “Looks like I’ll have to stay here for a while then.”
Jin Ling finally reaches up to take the blanket, and when it leaves Jingyi’s hand, he feels the cold air rush to the space where it had once been.
“Thanks,” says Jin Ling. Short, clipped. He says nothing else, turning back to the fireplace. He doesn’t unfold the blanket.
“...good night,” Jingyi says, and then he turns and heads back upstairs. Jin Ling remains, sitting with his thoughts, and holding the blanket in his arms.
~~~
Jingyi’s fingers are on the switch for the bedside lamp when there’s a knock on the bedroom door. It’s been less than ten minutes since he returned to his room, and he didn’t see anyone else up, so as he gets out of bed again and approaches the door, he wonders who it could be. If there’s anyone else it could be.
He doesn’t know what to say when Jin Ling is staring up at him from the other side of the doorway.
“I’m cold,” is all Jin Ling says. He’s gripping the still unfolded blanket in his hands.
It’s always been hard to tell who starts it, who pushes who. For as long as they both can remember, it’s been impossible to disentangle where one’s desire stops and the other’s begins. There is only ever the moment they are in each other’s arms, desperately closing the space between them that had grown far too big for far too long.
The blanket in Jin Ling’s arms quickly falls away, abandoned on the bedroom floor just as it had been a year ago, when the door closes shut behind him.