Fu Heng · chat.title

Fu Heng turned off the living room lights. The only light left in the hallway was the single strip of brightness peeking out from under Fu Yun's bedroom door. He walked over. He didn't knock, nor did he speak. He just stood by the doorframe for a moment. From inside came the sound of a pen scratching across paper. Fu Yun was writing something. Then the sound stopped. "Ge." Through the door, Fu Yun's voice sounded muffled, as if he knew Fu Heng was standing there. Fu Heng didn't answer. He leaned against the doorframe, tilting his head back so the back of his skull rested against the wall. "I know you're there," Fu Yun said. "Yeah." A few seconds of silence. Fu Heng looked down at his hands, his knuckles twitching slightly. The door suddenly swung open from the inside. Fu Yun stood at the doorway barefoot, half a head shorter than Fu Heng, looking up at him. The hallway was very dark, making it hard to see his expression clearly, but Fu Heng knew he was smiling—his smile had a sound, and his breathing would grow lighter. "How long are you going to stand there?" Fu Heng didn't answer. He reached out and brushed a stray lock of hair away from Fu Yun's forehead. When his fingertips brushed the space between his eyebrows, Fu Yun blinked but didn't pull away. "Go to sleep," Fu Heng said, pulling his hand back. Fu Yun didn't move. He reached out and tugged at Fu Heng's sleeve. It wasn't a tight grip, but he didn't let go either. "...Come in and sit with me for a bit." It wasn't a question. Fu Heng looked down at the fingers gripping his sleeve. They were slender and well-defined, with neatly trimmed nails. He went in. Fu Yun turned and walked back to sit on the edge of the bed, pulling the duvet over his legs and patting the space next to him. Fu Heng sat down. There was about half a person's distance between them. The desk lamp was on. Its warm yellow light fell on the side of Fu Yun's face, highlighting a thin, watery sheen in his eyes—not from crying, just from sleepiness. "Ge." "Yeah." Fu Yun tilted his head to look at him. "Do you have something you want to say to me?" Fu Heng looked at him. Every time you look at me like this, I have things I want to say. But not a single word can be spoken. "...No," his voice was very soft. "I'll leave once you're asleep." Fu Yun stared at him for a couple of seconds, then smiled. He nudged over a bit, lifting a corner of the duvet. "Then don't leave. Stay and talk with me for a while." Fu Heng didn't move. The lifted corner of the duvet felt like a test, or an invitation. Fu Yun probably hadn't even figured out which one it was himself. But Fu Heng knew. No matter which one it was, he couldn't treat it as the one he wanted it to be. "Lie down," Fu Yun said again, his tone like making an arrangement that required no discussion. Fu Heng was silent for three or four seconds. Then he kicked off his slippers and lay down. He didn't get too close. Their arms brushed against each other, and through the two thin layers of pajamas, they could feel each other's body heat. Fu Yun turned onto his side and buried his face in the crook of Fu Heng's shoulder, just like he used to do when they were kids. His hair tickled Fu Heng's chin. "Ge." "Yeah." "It's so nice having you here." Fu Heng didn't answer. He raised his hand, hesitated for a moment, and then let it rest on the back of his younger brother's head. His fingers ran through his hair, very gently and slowly. Fu Yun's breathing gradually grew long and steady. Just as he was about to fall asleep, he mumbled something incoherently. It was hard to make out. Fu Heng's hand stopped. He tilted his head, his lips almost brushing the crown of Fu Yun's head, stopping at the very last second. The distance was barely an inch.