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perfect for you 最适合你
Posted originally on the Archive of Our Own at http://archiveofourown.org/works/48916783.
最初发布在我们的档案馆上,网址为 http://archiveofourown.org/works/48916783。

Rating: 评级:
Explicit 限制级
Archive Warning: 存档警告:
Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Category: 分类:
M/M 男男
Fandom: 同人
Stray Kids (Band) Stray Kids(乐团)
Relationships: 关系:
Bang Chan/Hwang Hyunjin, Hwang Hyunjin & Lee Felix, past/previous chanlix
Bang Chan/Hwang Hyunjin, Hwang Hyunjin & Lee Felix, 过去的 chanlix
Characters: 角色:
Hwang Hyunjin, Bang Chan (Stray Kids), Lee Felix (Stray Kids), Lee Minho | Lee Know, Han Jisung | Han, Kim Hyuna
Additional Tags: 附加标签:
Alternate Universe - Ballet, Love Triangles, Strangers to Lovers, Sex Work, (KIND OF. IT'S COMPLICATED.), Deception, Dubious Morality, Pretty Woman References, Healing Sex, Explicit Sexual Content, Additional Warnings In Author's Note, Angst with a Happy Ending, and into the hyunchanlix vortex we go.........
另类宇宙 - 芭蕾, 三角恋, 从陌生人到恋人, 色情工作,(有点复杂。), 欺骗, 可疑道德, 漂亮女人的影射, 治愈性爱, 明确的性内容, 作者注中有额外警告, 忧伤但有幸福结局, 进入 hyunchanlix 的漩涡……
Language: 语言:
English 英语
Stats: 统计:
Published: 2023-08-25 Completed: 2023-09-15 Words: 58,866 Chapters: 4/4
发布日期:2023 年 08 月 25 日 完结日期:2023 年 09 月 15 日 字数:58,866 章节:4/4

perfect for you 最适合你

Summary 简介

“You want me to stalk Chan for you?” Hyunjin clarifies, disbelieving, laughing.

“Not—not stalk! I’m sorry, it’s just—he won’t talk to me, and I don’t want him to be alone. And you’re the best person I know, and I really trust you with him. Could you—would you?”

Felix’s eyes are so big. He needs Hyunjin so much, and he’s saying Chan does, too. How can Hyunjin possibly refuse?

“Felix,” Hyunjin says, putting one hand over his heart, “I won’t let you down.”

Notes 笔记

hi and thank you for joining me on this journey deep into the hyunchanlix vortex....... i've been so afraid to bring felix into the hyunchan equation and see how weird it makes the formula but....... it is time.
嗨,感谢你加入我一起深入 hyunchanlix 漩涡的旅程……我一直很害怕把 Felix 带入 hyunchan 的方程式中,看看它会变得多么奇怪,但……现在是时候了。

warnings: hyunjin is not a bad person in this, but he's not exactly a good one, either. he does pretty bad things in the name of a good cause.* please heed the dubious morality tag and the deception tag. this fic also contains many instances of problematic, careless, and inaccurate language about sex work and sex workers. if any of this sounds like it would be unpleasant for you, please click away now!
警告:在这个故事中,Hyunjin 并不是一个坏人,但他也不算是一个好人。他为了一个好的目的做了一些相当糟糕的事情。请注意可疑道德标签和欺骗标签。这个作品还包含许多关于性工作和性工作者的问题、粗心和不准确的语言。如果这些听起来让你不舒服,请立即离开!

additional disclaimer: i know nothing about ballet. blease just pretend it's all accurate. also this is a very different kind of hyunjin than i normally write. but i had fun and i hope you will have fun too!
额外声明:我对芭蕾一无所知。请假装一切都是准确的。而且这个 Hyunjin 和我通常写的那种很不一样。但我玩得很开心,希望你也会玩得开心!

this fic is complete and i will be posting a new chapter every friday at 5pm est !
这篇小说已经完结,我会在每周五下午 5 点发布新章节!

*keep in mind he is my little baby angel who has never done anything wrong in his entire life


act i 第一幕

Chapter Summary 章节摘要

I’m not a good friend, but she doesn’t know that

She’s gonna hate me, but I want you so bad


—“Perfect for You,” Peach PRC
—《Perfect for You》,Peach PRC

Chapter Notes 章节注释

chapter contains drinking and offensive language about sex work

Hyunjin, shadowed within the vestibule, can see Felix in the passenger seat of the car, and he can also see the driver, who has a big nose and therefore—in Hyunjin’s experience—is likely perfectly hung. Hyunjin watches them hug goodbye, awkward across the center console. Felix clambers out of the car, laughing at something the driver had said, and trips and skips his way over to the ballet studio’s door, but just before he grabs the handle, he turns back and waves, his entire little frame swaying with it. The driver waves, too. He has dimples.
在门厅的阴影中,Hyunjin 可以看到 Felix 坐在车的副驾驶座上,他还能看到司机,司机有一个大鼻子,因此——根据 Hyunjin 的经验——很可能是个完美的家伙。Hyunjin 看着他们尴尬地在中控台上拥抱道别。Felix 从车里爬出来,笑着对司机说了些什么,然后绊倒着跳着朝芭蕾舞工作室的门口走去,但就在他抓住门把手之前,他回头挥手,整个小身躯都随之摇摆。司机也挥手。他有酒窝。

“Oh!” Felix says, lighting up even brighter with surprised delight when he pulls open the door and finds Hyunjin inside. “You waited! Oh, don’t do that next time!”
“哦!” 菲利克斯说道,当他打开门看到贤真时,他的表情更加明亮,充满惊喜和喜悦。“你等了!哦,下次不要这样做!”

“Don’t be late next time,” Hyunjin says, smiling with his eyes, too, and slips his arm through Felix’s convivially. Of course he waited; they both like coming in to rehearsal together, Felix presumably because they’re friends, and Hyunjin also because they’re friends but more importantly because it makes everybody else feel envious and inadequate. Hyunjin and Felix are like two mirrors pointed at each other, and their beauty is the beam of light reflecting and strengthening between. They’re better together. Felix is so pretty that Hyunjin should hate him, but as hard as Hyunjin has been trying over the six months of their acquaintance so far, he can’t find any faults in Felix’s character. Finally, Hyunjin’s hair isn’t at its best today, and Felix always has extra hair ties. Basically, he’s an angel.

“I know, sorry,” Felix pouts. “It wasn’t even my fault! The bus was late first!”
“我知道,抱歉,” 菲利克斯噘起嘴。“这甚至不是我的错!公交车先晚了!”

Hyunjin hums, like, sure, and they’ve fallen into step as they head for the stairs. When he glances down to check on Felix, he finds that he’s still post-giggle pink, and Hyunjin can’t help but ask, voice dropping into a pre-giggle conspiratorial tone, “Who was that dropping you off?”

Felix reacts quickly, as if he’d been waiting to be asked. He pulls a face, goes pinker, rolls his eyes. “Chan. My best friend. I’ve probably mentioned him?”

Yes, but not that he was sizzlingly hot. Hyunjin can still picture the dimples. “A little,” Hyunjin says. “Nice of him to drive you.”

“Oh, he insisted. He’s such a dork,” Felix grumbles, but his smile is unabatable. “D’you know what he said when he dropped me off? Have a good day at school, honey! Ugh! Dork!”

Hyunjin giggles with him, condescending, playful, girlish, but he’s thinking, That doesn’t sound dorky—that sounds lovely.

And that’s how it all starts.




Felix does mention Chan a lot. He did before, too, but somehow, Hyunjin never noticed—maybe because he didn’t know he needed to be paying attention. It’s like that psychological phenomenon where, after learning a new word, you suddenly hear it everywhere. Chan this, Chan that. Chan likes this song. When I wear my hair like this, Chan calls me Heidi. You look so pretty in your new leo—did you know Chan wears the same three outfits over and over and refuses to go shopping with me no matter how much I try to convince him? Chan came over for dinner and we watched true crime shows until 1 AM and then I was too scared to sleep so he spent the night. Chan Chan Chan Chan Chan.
Felix 确实经常提到 Chan。以前也是这样,但不知怎的,Hyunjin 从未注意到——也许是因为他不知道自己需要注意。就像那种心理现象,学会一个新词后,你突然就到处听到它。Chan 这个,Chan 那个。Chan 喜欢这首歌。当我把头发弄成这样时,Chan 叫我海蒂。你穿上新的连体衣看起来很漂亮——你知道吗,Chan 总是穿着同样的三套衣服,无论我多么劝说他,他都拒绝和我一起去购物?Chan 过来吃晚饭,我们看真实犯罪节目直到凌晨 1 点,然后我太害怕睡觉了,所以他就在那过夜了。Chan Chan Chan Chan Chan。

Stretching at the barre or changing in the locker room, Hyunjin pieces together their story. Felix and Chan have known each other for half a decade. Chan, like Felix, is Australian. He’s three years older. Their moms, back in Sydney, were friends first, old friends, but they only thought to matchmake the boys when they went abroad for college; they hit it off immediately, like chemistry, like magic. Inseparable ever since. Nowadays, Chan works in data entry, and it pays very well, but he hates it. They don’t live together—“We’d never,” Felix laughs. “We’re very different. It would be a nightmare!”
在舞蹈练习杆前伸展或在更衣室里换衣服时,Hyunjin 拼凑出了他们的故事。Felix 和 Chan 认识已有半个世纪。Chan 和 Felix 一样,是澳大利亚人。他比 Felix 大三岁。他们的妈妈们在悉尼时就是朋友,是老朋友,但直到他们出国上大学时才想到让两个男孩相亲;他们立刻就合得来,就像化学反应,就像魔法。从那时起就形影不离。如今,Chan 在数据录入方面工作,薪水很高,但他讨厌这份工作。他们不住在一起——“我们绝对不会的,”Felix 笑着说。“我们非常不同。那将是一场噩梦!”

Hyunjin wouldn’t mind living with his best friend. If he had a best friend. Even if they were very different. Especially if his best friend were someone like Chan.
Hyunjin 不介意和他最好的朋友住在一起。如果他有一个最好的朋友的话。即使他们非常不同。尤其是如果他最好的朋友是像 Chan 这样的人。

As Felix tells it, Chan is very supportive. Chan is deeply earnest to the point it’s embarrassing—he has no sense of irony, he’s not mean at all. Teasing him is fun since he’s so oblivious, and he lets Felix get away with everything. “I really want you to meet him,” Felix says, chewing on his baby kale salad in the cafeteria. “Agh, it’s so hard to explain him, he’s such a special person. I think you’d really like him!”
根据 Felix 的说法,Chan 非常支持人。Chan 非常认真,到了令人尴尬的地步——他没有任何幽默感,一点也不刻薄。取笑他很有趣,因为他是如此无意识,他让 Felix 为所欲为。“我真的很想让你见见他,”Felix 说着,嚼着他在自助餐厅里的婴儿羽衣甘蓝沙拉。“啊,很难向你解释他,他是一个特别的人。我觉得你会很喜欢他的!”

I already do. You don’t know how lucky you are to have him in your life. “But would he like me, is the question,” Hyunjin points out with a private smile.

Felix scoffs and hits Hyunjin’s arm with all the aggression of a tissue. “You’re the fucking best, Hyunjin. Of course he’ll like you.”

Hyunjin tips his head, toying with the ends of his hair. Honestly, as Felix tells it, it doesn’t seem like there’s room in either of their lives for anyone but each other. But it’s a nice thought. He smiles, and watches the way Felix responds to his smile—the beam of light between their mirrors refracts, broadens. “We’ll see,” Hyunjin says, and steals one of the croutons in Felix’s salad.
Hyunjin 微微仰头,玩弄着自己头发的尾端。老实说,按照 Felix 的说法,似乎他们的生活中除了彼此之外没有其他人的位置。但这是一个美好的想法。他微笑着,看着 Felix 对他微笑的反应——他们之间的镜子中的光束折射、扩散。"我们拭目以待,"Hyunjin 说着,偷走了 Felix 沙拉中的一个面包丁。




Felix is always so flamboyantly sunny that an overcast day is cause for drop-everything concern, and Hyunjin clocks him immediately, from the instant he drags his feet into the studio. He’s positively funereal, and the stormcloud over his head is darkening the whole block. His cheeks are pale, which makes his freckles look blotchy instead of charming, and his lower lip is bitten to the point of nearly bleeding. “Felix,” Hyunjin murmurs, already at his side, having crossed the room in a smooth run to reach him. “What’s wrong? Are you sick?”
Felix 总是那么灿烂阳光,以至于阴天都让人担心,Hyunjin 立刻注意到了,从他迈着沉重的步伐走进工作室的那一刻起。他看起来像是葬礼现场,头顶的乌云笼罩着整个街区。他的脸颊苍白,使他的雀斑看起来不再迷人,而是显得混乱。他的下唇被咬得几乎要流血了。"Felix,"Hyunjin 低声说着,已经站在他身边,以平稳的速度穿过房间走向他。"怎么了?你生病了吗?

“No—I’m fine,” Felix mutters, distracted, and then blinks up at Hyunjin as though he hadn’t even noticed it was him. There’s a line between his eyebrows that Hyunjin hasn’t seen before. “I’m fine,” he repeats, but it’s even less convincing than the first time.

Hyunjin softly pets a hand over his forehead, which is clammy, not warm. “You sure?”
Hyunjin 轻轻地抚摸着他的额头,感觉有些潮湿,而不是温暖。“你确定吗?”

Rehearsal is starting in just a few seconds. Felix is as aware of that as Hyunjin is, and his guarded eyes flicker past to the clock behind Hyunjin’s shoulder, to the opening door through which the company’s lead mistress, Svetlana Dmitrievna, the USSR’s meanest export, who’d adored Hyunjin at his audition and has despised him ever since, is currently walking. “I’ll tell you later,” he says. “I definitely”—he swallows—“could use some advice right now.”
彩排就要开始了,Felix 和 Hyunjin 一样意识到了这一点,他警惕的眼神从 Hyunjin 肩膀后面的时钟上闪过,转向了打开的门,透过门走进来的是公司的女主角,苏联最凶狠的出口,Svetlana Dmitrievna,她在 Hyunjin 试镜时很喜欢他,但自那以后就对他恨之入骨。“我待会告诉你,”他说。“我现在确实”—他吞了口口水—“需要一些建议。”

“I’m here,” Hyunjin assures him, squeezes his shoulders, ducks down to catch his gaze and try and coax a little smile out of him. It only half-works, and it doesn’t last long; Felix gets back to dazed and drifting shortly, and all through the stretches and group warmup, Felix seems unconscious, missing steps, distracted, slow to obey orders. Not even when he gets yelled at—such a rare occurence for perfect quick-study sunny Felix—does he flinch.
“我在这里,”Hyunjin 向他保证,握住他的肩膀,弯下腰来凝视他,试图引出一丝微笑。这只有一半成功,而且也没有持续多久;Felix 很快就又变得恍惚和漫不经心,整个伸展和团体热身过程中,Felix 看起来像是失去了意识,走错了步,心不在焉,迟迟不听从指令。即使被责骂,对于完美的快速学习者阳光少年 Felix 来说,这样的事情是如此罕见,他也没有退缩。

Hyunjin’s thinking it’s bad news. A family loss. He has to move back to Sydney—he won’t be able to stay with the company. They must really be friends, now—Hyunjin is more concerned about what that would do to Felix’s mental health than excited about the opportunities it would open up for Hyunjin in Felix’s absence. He’s so worried about whatever has Felix worried that he’s distracted, too, but at least when he’s the target of the yelling, it’s less of a surprise. He and Felix spin in magnetic orbit around each other, and normally, Hyunjin’s eyes are on himself in the mirror, but now, he’s watching Felix. Felix misses a jump. He can’t quite manage a lift that’s normally easy for him. His spins are sloppy. But most concerning of all is that expression on his face, and the way he keeps chewing his lip—the instant he’s not dancing, he withdraws back into himself so completely it’s hard to see him at all.
Hyunjin 觉得这一定是个坏消息。家里有人去世了。他得搬回悉尼——他将无法继续留在公司。他们现在一定是真正的朋友了——Hyunjin 更担心这会对 Felix 的心理健康造成什么影响,而不是为自己在 Felix 离开时会有什么机会感到兴奋。他如此担心着让 Felix 担心的事情,以至于自己也分心了,但至少当他成为大喊的对象时,这并不那么让人惊讶。他和 Felix 像磁铁一样绕着彼此旋转,通常,Hyunjin 的眼睛都盯着镜子里的自己,但现在,他在看 Felix。Felix 错过了一个跳跃。他无法完成通常对他来说很容易的抬起。他的旋转很潦草。但最令人担忧的是他脸上的表情,以及他不停地咬着嘴唇——一旦他不再跳舞,他就完全退缩到自己的内心,以至于很难看到他。

The countdown to their morning break is excruciating, but finally, it’s time, and Hyunjin catches Felix before he can slip away into troubled solitude. “Hey,” he says, weaving his fingers through Felix’s right away. “Let’s go get a matcha.”
他们等待早晨休息的倒计时令人难以忍受,但终于到了,Hyunjin 赶在 Felix 溜走独处之前抓住了他。“嘿,”他说,立刻握住 Felix 的手指。“我们去喝抹茶吧。”

“Okay,” Felix says, like he’d have agreed to anything, so Hyunjin leads him out of the room and down to the café, holding fast to his hand the entire time. Felix, who typically spends all rehearsal bubbling with excitement to tell Hyunjin all about his morning and his night and what Svetlana Dmitrievna thought of his solo and the latest memes in his family WhatsApp, doesn’t say a word. It’s like he’s hollow, a Felix balloon, just pulled around on a string. Hyunjin orders for them—oat-milk unsweetened iced matcha lattes with a pop of spirulina—and Felix is still silent, cold, his fingers occasionally twitching in Hyunjin’s tight grip.
“好的,”Felix 说,就像他会同意任何事情一样,所以 Hyunjin 引导他走出房间,来到咖啡厅,一直牢牢地握着他的手。Felix 通常在所有的彩排中都充满兴奋地告诉 Hyunjin 他早上和晚上发生的事情,以及 Svetlana Dmitrievna 对他独奏的看法,以及他家庭 WhatsApp 中最新的表情包。他一句话也没说。就像他是个空壳,一个 Felix 气球,只是被牵着走。Hyunjin 为他们点了饮料——燕麦奶无糖冰抹茶拿铁,加一点螺旋藻。Felix 依然沉默,冷漠,偶尔在 Hyunjin 紧握的手中手指抽动。

“You’re really scaring me,” Hyunjin says softly when they’re sitting down at their usual window table (again, friendship versus a public display of their unanimous beauty). “What do you need advice on?”
“你真的吓到我了,”当他们坐在他们通常的窗边桌子旁时(再次,友谊与他们无可争议的美丽之间的公开展示),Hyunjin 轻声说。“你需要什么建议?”

Felix takes a long sip of his matcha and takes an equally long time to swallow. His face does something twitchy. He starts to say something, but stops, frowns, mulls it over, sips his matcha again. Hyunjin waits, worry increasing exponentially by the second, doing his best to silence the wild speculation in his brain. And finally, Felix says, “I had a really strange conversation with Chan last night.”
Felix 小口喝了一口抹茶,慢慢咽下。他的脸表情有些抽搐。他开始说些什么,但停下来,皱起眉头,思考片刻,再次抿了口抹茶。Hyunjin 等待着,担心每秒都在指数级增长,尽力压制脑海中的疯狂猜测。最后,Felix 说:“昨晚我和 Chan 有了一次非常奇怪的对话。”

“Oh?” “哦?”

“Really strange,” Felix repeats, so quietly. He looks down into his plastic cup like he’ll find his answers under the ice. “He told me—he—I mean, he asked me out.”
“非常奇怪,” Felix 轻声重复。他低头看着塑料杯,仿佛会在冰块下找到答案。“他告诉我——他—我是说,他约我出去了。”

“Oh,” Hyunjin says again, but very differently. This doesn’t seem like good news—personally, he’d be jumping for joy and weeping happy tears onto strangers’ shoulders—so he doesn’t know what to say, licks his lips, stalls, “Oh, that’s—”
“哦,”Hyunjin 再次说,但语气完全不同。这似乎不是个好消息——就个人而言,他会欢天喜地,向陌生人痛哭流涕——所以他不知道该说什么,舔了舔嘴唇,拖延着,“哦,那个—”

“Like,” Felix says around a tremulous breath, “he said he’s been—has had feelings for me nearly the entire time we’ve known each other. Like, it’s really serious.”
「就像,」Felix 在颤抖的呼吸中说道,「他说他一直—对我有感觉,几乎是我们认识彼此的整个时间。就像,这真的很严肃。」

“Wow,” Hyunjin says—what is he supposed to say? What is he supposed to do? Comfort, rage, conspire? All he can feel is a distant, displaced jealousy, but he’s not sure of whom. Keep Felix talking—that sounds like a good way to figure out what Felix wants to hear. “And you really had no idea? Like, this came out of nowhere?”
「哇,」Hyunjin 说道—他应该说什么?他应该怎么做?安慰,愤怒,密谋?他只能感受到一种遥远的、错位的嫉妒,但他不确定是针对谁。让 Felix 继续说下去—这似乎是弄清楚 Felix 想听到什么的好方法。「你真的毫不知情吗?就像,这突如其来的?」

“Nowhere,” Felix confirms vehemently. “We’ve always been close. So close. He’s like family. And I thought—I guess I always thought—” He goes quiet, so Hyunjin doesn’t get to know what he thought.
“没有,”Felix 断然确认。“我们一直很亲近。非常亲近。他就像家人一样。而我以为—我想我一直以为—” 他沉黙了,所以 Hyunjin 不知道他在想什么。

Hyunjin takes a sip of his own matcha. It tastes like a field of seagrass thanks to the spirulina, and it might make his tongue green. He squints at Felix, trying to decide if he should be congratulatory or offer condolences, and settles on, “So what’d you say?”
Hyunjin 喝了一口自己的抹茶。多亏了螺旋藻,它尝起来像一片海草田,可能会让他的舌头变绿。他瞪大眼睛看着 Felix,试图决定是应该祝贺还是表示慰问,最终说道:“那你说什么了?”

“I said…” Felix exhales very slowly. His little knuckles are white around his thin plastic cup. “I said it’s not a no. But I need time to think about it.”
“我说…” Felix 缓缓地呼出一口气。他纤细的塑料杯周围的小指关节变得白了。“我说这不是否定的。但我需要时间来考虑。”

“Of course,” Hyunjin agrees readily. “Of course! That’s such a big, like, change!”

“I know, right? And if he’s felt this way the whole time, then…” Felix goes quiet again, which is very frustrating; Hyunjin wants to reach into him and pull the story out. “He’s very important to me,” he says. “Maybe I’m overreacting.” Hyunjin makes sympathetic noises. “Like, objectively, he’s good-looking, and he’s so good to me. All my school friends always joked that he was such great boyfriend material.” (Ah, so Hyunjin’s not the only one with a proxy crush.) “He takes care of me, and we’ve known each other forever, I’m so comfortable with him, it’s not the craziest idea in the world, but I just—but I just don’t know.”
“我知道,对吧?如果他一直这样感觉,那么…” 菲利克斯再次沉默了,这让贤振很沮丧;他想伸手进去把故事拉出来。“他对我很重要,”他说。“也许我反应过度了。” 贤振发出同情的声音。“就事实而言,他很帅,对我也很好。我所有的校友总是开玩笑说他是个很好的男朋友人选。”(啊,所以贤振不是唯一一个暗恋他的人。)“他照顾我,我们认识彼此已经很久了,我和他在一起很舒服,这不是世界上最疯狂的想法,但我只是——但我只是不知道。”

“So you’ve never seen him that way,” Hyunjin clarifies.

Felix shakes his head. “But, apparently, he’s seen me that way the entire time.”

Hyunjin huffs, just a bit. “Why didn’t he say something sooner?”
Hyunjin 轻声叹气。“为什么他不早点说呢?”

“He’s not like that,” Felix says, with his first genuine smile of the day. “He never goes for what he wants. I literally had to force him to tell me last night. Do you want to hear about how it happened?”
“他不是那种人,”Felix 说着,露出了一天来的第一个真诚的微笑。“他从不追求自己想要的。昨晚我还非得逼他才肯告诉我。你想听听发生了什么吗?”

Hyunjin isn’t so sure. This seems personal. This seems like he might need to pick a side, and he doesn’t know if he’ll be on the right one. “Duh,” he says.
Hyunjin 并不确定。这似乎很私人。这似乎他可能需要选择一个立场,而他不知道自己会站在哪一边。“当然,”他说。

Felix nods and takes a breath and launches into the story, even though break is winding down and they’ll need to go back up soon. But Hyunjin can see that talking about it, unburdening, is making Felix feel better, especially since Hyunjin is such a sympathetic listener. Last night, Felix explains, they’d been watching When Harry Met Sally while cuddling—“Okay, I know that sounds bad, but we do that sort of thing a lot—oh, God, that sounds worse,” Felix says, cringing endearingly—and Chan had been so quiet, so strange. He’d cracked an awkward, shy joke about finding the film too relatable. Felix’s interest had been piqued, so he’d asked just what friend Chan had been secretly harboring feelings for—and Chan had demurred, and Felix had pressed, and Chan had dodged, and then it had turned into a full-blown interrogation until finally, it slipped out, like an accident, like a breach of containment: I don’t know, did you ever think that maybe someday we might—that we—? And Felix had said, Oh, because in retrospect, it had been so obvious. And Chan had said, I’m sorry.

“He apologized?” Hyunjin interrupts, fascinated, leaning so far forward that his and Felix’s cheeks are nearly touching. “Why?”

Felix waves that off. “Classic Chan. He apologizes for everything. Like it’s his fault he exists, or like he’s a criminal for wanting something. He could also probably tell I was uncomfortable.”

Hyunjin hums, frowns in thought. “And then what?”

“Then we… talked about it a little more, and then he went home,” Felix says, sighing heavily, “and I’ve been fucked up over it ever since. We should go.”
“然后我们……又谈了一会儿,然后他就回家了,” 费利克斯沉重地叹了口气,“从那以后我就一直心神不宁。我们该走了。”

They both stand, and Hyunjin takes Felix’s hand again, thumb pressing soothingly into the meat of his diminutive palm. “This is crazy,” he says gently. “But you really care about each other. I’m sure it’ll work out one way or another.”
他们俩站起来,Hyunjin 再次握住 Felix 的手,拇指轻轻按在他纤细的手掌上。“这太疯狂了,”他温柔地说。“但你们真的彼此在乎。我相信无论如何都会解决的。”

And Felix looks up at him with a smile so bright that Hyunjin honestly believes it.
Felix 抬头看着他,笑容如此灿烂,以至于 Hyunjin 诚实地相信了。




Their first “date” is a Friday night; Chan picks Felix up after rehearsal ends, and Hyunjin watches from the second floor as the car drives away, off, presumably, into the sunset. He hears all about it the next morning. Felix is in a good mood—it’s nothing like after Chan’s confession. “It was only awkward for the first, like, five minutes,” he reassures Hyunjin as Hyunjin’s bending Felix’s leg up to get his back all limber. “And then it was just like hanging out with my best friend, like it normally is.”
他们的第一次“约会”是在一个星期五晚上;Chan 在排练结束后接走了 Felix,Hyunjin 从二楼看着车子开走,消失在远方,大概是驶向日落。第二天早上他听到了所有的事情。Felix 心情很好——完全不像在 Chan 坦白之后那样。“一开始只有大概五分钟有点尴尬,”他向 Hyunjin 保证,当 Hyunjin 把 Felix 的腿抬起来让他的背部更加灵活时。“然后就像和我最好的朋友一起玩一样,就像平常一样。”

“Well, that is what you were doing,” Hyunjin points out astutely. “Did it feel romantic, though?”

Felix pulls a face at Hyunjin in the mirror. “It’s so hard to tell. I think we almost kissed at the end, but then instead, we just hugged.”
镜子里,Felix 对着贤真做了个鬼脸。“很难说。我觉得我们差点就接吻了,但最后还是只是拥抱了。”

“Ooh,” Hyunjin says. “Did you want to kiss?”

Felix squirms, and Hyunjin doesn’t think it’s just because Hyunjin is currently stretching him in half. “I don’t know?” he says. “I’m almost disappointed that he didn’t try to kiss me, because that would have made it easier.”
Felix 扭动着身体,Hyunjin 觉得这不仅仅是因为他正在把 Felix 撑得满头大汗。“我不知道?”他说。“我几乎失望他没有试着亲我,因为那样会更容易些。”

“You could have kissed him first, you know.”

Another astute observation, and this one makes Felix laugh. “Maybe I should have, actually, just to see. I know he wouldn’t kiss me first. He already feels so bad for imposing this on me.”
又一次敏锐的观察,这次让 Felix 笑了。“也许我本该的,实际上,只是为了试试看。我知道他不会先亲我。他已经为强迫我做这件事感到很抱歉了。”

“Imposing?” Hyunjin repeats. He watches Felix’s expression in the mirror. “What’s he imposing? It’s not like he’s making demands and threatening you if you don’t go along with them.”

“That’s how he sees it,” Felix says, still smiling.

“Well, that doesn’t make any sense.”

“Yeah,” Felix says, “it doesn’t. But that’s very in-character for him.”
“是的,”Felix 说,“确实如此。但这对他来说很符合角色设定。”

Hyunjin hums noncommittally, runs his hand down Felix’s thigh and pats his hip to get him to drop his leg and switch sides. “Are you going to go out with him again?”
Hyunjin 无所谓地哼着歌,沿着 Felix 的大腿滑下,拍了拍他的臀部,让他放下腿换个姿势。“你还会和他再约会吗?”

“Tuesday night.” “星期二晚。”

“You should kiss him,” Hyunjin says. “Just to see how it feels.”

Felix’s other leg goes up, and up, and up. He’s so pretty and dainty, the musicbox ballerina Hyunjin has always wanted to be. His freckled cheeks are flushing pink and the rest of the company is filing into the room. “Maybe I should,” Felix says. “Maybe I will.”




“Um, two-point-five stars?”

“Out of five?” Hyunjin laughs. He spears a cherry tomato. “That’s not very good, Felix.”

“It was the smallest peck ever,” Felix whines. “He acted like I’d shot him or something. He physically ran to the other end of the room.”
“他只是轻轻亲了一下而已,”Felix 抱怨道。“他就好像我打了他一样。他还真的跑到房间的另一头去了。”

“What’s his problem?” Hyunjin can’t help but wonder. “Does he not want to kiss you? Who wouldn’t want to kiss you?” He reaches across the table to dramatically pinch Felix’s cheek and thumb at his bowed lower lip. Felix ducks away, but he’s beaming, albeit flustered. Hyunjin relents, and bites into the cherry tomato, a satisfying burst inside his mouth.
「他怎么了?」Hyunjin 不禁好奇地想。「他不想吻你吗?谁不想吻你?」他伸手过桌子夸张地捏了捏 Felix 的脸颊,拇指在他低垂的下唇上划过。Felix 闪躲开,但他笑得灿烂,尽管有些慌乱。Hyunjin 放手,咬下樱桃番茄,口中爆发出令人满足的味道。」

“It’s complicated,” Felix grumbles. “I think he does want to kiss me. But we just can’t rush things.” Suddenly, he gets serious. “That’s the biggest thing for me, like. If we’re going to do this, we have to take it slow. I’m just still deciding how I feel, you know? He already knows, but I’m still deciding.”
“这有点复杂,”Felix 嘟囔道。“我觉得他是想吻我的。但我们不能急于行动。”突然间,他变得认真起来。“这对我来说是最重要的事情,就是。如果我们要做这件事,我们必须慢慢来。我还在考虑自己的感受,你懂吗?他已经知道了,但我还在考虑。”

“Right,” Hyunjin says. A cucumber slice this time, then a tiny sliver of salmon, which he likes eating because it makes him feel like a prize Persian cat with a glossy, sleek coat. “Did you have fun, though?”
“对,”贤真说。这次是黄瓜片,然后是一小块三文鱼,他喜欢吃这个,因为让他觉得自己像一只有着光滑亮丽被毛的波斯猫。 “不过,你玩得开心吗?”

“I always have fun with him,” Felix says. Now he’s wistful. “He picked out a night full of things I like to do. He’s so caring, he almost doesn’t have room to care about himself because all he does is care about me.”
“我总是和他玩得很开心,”Felix 说。现在他有点怀念。“他挑选了一晚上我喜欢做的事情。他是如此关心人,几乎没有时间关心自己,因为他所有的关注都在我身上。”

And that’s a bad thing? Hyunjin can’t help but think. “Wow,” is all he says, and waggles his eyebrows at Felix. “So he’s a giver?”
这是一件坏事吗?贤真不禁想。他只是说:“哇”,然后对着 Felix 眨了眨眼。“所以他是个奉献者?”

“Oh, my God, stop,” Felix whines, reaching over to smack Hyunjin’s arm.
“天啊,别闹了,” 菲利克斯抱怨着,伸手过去拍了拍贤真的胳膊。

“Hey, third date’s coming up, and you know what that—”

Felix’s shriek of laughter cuts him off. His speaking voice is so deep, but his laughing voice is so high. It’s infectious. Hyunjin laughs, too, even though he’s serious. He always puts out by a third date. If someone’s invested that much time, energy, and money into him, they deserve a reward. Chan sounds like he definitely deserves a reward. He’s been waiting for years, hasn’t he?

When Felix stops laughing, his cheeks are still pink; Hyunjin has noticed that he does tend to blush a lot, whenever the topic of Chan comes up. He used to before, too. Is that a good sign? “You’re ridiculous,” he grumbles, sticking his leg out under the cafeteria table to prod his toes into Hyunjin’s already-badly-bruised shin. “You might be enjoying this more than I am.”
当 Felix 停止笑的时候,他的脸颊依然泛着粉红色;Hyunjin 注意到每当谈到 Chan 这个话题时,他似乎总是会脸红。以前也是这样。这是个好兆头吗?“你太可笑了,”他抱怨道,伸出腿在餐桌下踢了一下 Hyunjin 已经瘀青的小腿。“你可能比我更享受这个。”

Hyunjin raises his eyebrows as high as they can go. “Hmm. You mean that?”
Hyunjin 把眉毛扬得尽量高。“嗯。你是认真的?”

Felix must know how bad that sounds, because he shakes his head quickly, and busies himself with the paper wrapper of his straw. “No,” he says. “I’m enjoying it. I really am.”
Felix 一定知道那听起来有多糟糕,因为他迅速摇了摇头,忙着玩弄吸管的纸包。“不,”他说。“我很享受。我真的很享受。”

Hyunjin believes him. Felix isn’t a liar like Hyunjin. And Hyunjin’s not jealous. He doesn’t even know Chan. But based on Felix’s descriptions, he just wishes he did.
Hyunjin 相信他。Felix 不像 Hyunjin 那样是个说谎者。而且 Hyunjin 并不嫉妒。他甚至不认识 Chan。但根据 Felix 的描述,他只是希望认识他。




Home alone, while Felix is out with Chan, presumably. Hyunjin stares at himself in the mirror, sick of crying. He can’t begrudge Felix his happiness—he’s just never known envy like this. His whole life, it’s been there, yes, but formless, an unending well of hunger for more, not even knowing what he wants more of. Now, he sees it. He sees it every day, except for Saturdays, their one day off from practice. He even sees it when he’s alone, even when he closes his eyes. If only he could look in the mirror and see someone else—someone bright, joyful, carefree, beloved. Felix.
独自一人在家,而 Felix 和 Chan 出去了,大概是这样。Hyunjin 盯着镜子里的自己,厌倦了哭泣。他不能嫉妒 Felix 的幸福——他从未像现在这样羡慕过。他整个生命中,一直有这种感觉,是的,但是模糊的,一个无尽的渴望更多的深渊,甚至不知道自己想要更多什么。现在,他看到了。他每天都看到,除了星期六,是他们练习的休息日。他甚至在独处时也看到,甚至闭上眼睛时也看到。如果他能照镜子看到另一个人——一个明亮、快乐、无忧无虑、受人喜爱的人。Felix。

He can’t have the talent, the joy, the freedom from woes or worries. He certainly can’t have the devoted, handsome best friend who’d do anything to make him happy in exchange for the barest scrap of affection. He can’t be Felix.
他无法拥有天赋、快乐、摆脱烦恼或忧虑的自由。他当然也无法拥有那位全心全意、英俊的挚友,为了得到一丝丝的关爱而愿意为他做任何事情。他无法成为 Felix。

But maybe he can be blond. And that’ll be a start.




Although Hyunjin slinks into practice wearing a hat, he has to take it off before long—he overheats quickly. His stomach is in knots. There must have been a problem with his mixing of the drugstore bleach, or maybe he’d had a crooked hand in application. He’s not just brassy; he’s positively tangerine. When the hat comes off, Svetlana Dmitrievna swears gutturally for a solid fifteen seconds, then sends him home to “fix that.” Felix had gasped at the sight, and gives Hyunjin a sympathetic smile in the mirror as Hyunjin, holding back tears, flees. Later, a text:
尽管 Hyunjin 戴着帽子悄悄进入练习场,但不久就不得不摘下来——他很快就会过热。他的胃像打了结一样。他在药店买的漂白剂混合可能出了问题,或者他在涂抹时手有点歪。他不仅是黄铜色的;他简直是橘黄色的。当帽子脱下时,Svetlana Dmitrievna 用喉音诅咒了整整十五秒,然后让他回家“解决这个问题”。Felix 看到后倒抽一口凉气,然后在镜子里同情地对着 Hyunjin 微笑,而 Hyunjin 则忍着泪水逃走。后来,一条短信:」

> Do you want my colourist’s info?
> 你要我发给你染发师的联系方式吗?

oh, sure 哦,当然

it looks so bad. i hate it lol

> Nooo it’s adorable
> 不,它很可爱

> I just know she won’t be happy unless it looks all-natural
> 我只知道她不会高兴,除非看起来完全自然

yeah 是的

> Let’s go together!!
> 我们一起去吧!!

> I need a root touch-up too
> 我也需要修根

i love youuu 我爱你

> Ilysm > 我超爱你




Hyunjin feels better as his scalp is burned professionally. It’s a nice day out with Felix, who doesn’t even ask why Hyunjin had wanted to make this sudden, radical style change in the first place. His colorist is kind, too, so kind about Hyunjin’s fried ends and bronze roots that Hyunjin almost doesn’t trust it. It’s a nice day, a nice spa day. At the end of it, Hyunjin will finally be pretty.
Hyunjin 觉得自己的头皮被专业地烧伤后感觉好多了。和 Felix 一起出去是个美好的一天,Felix 甚至没有问为什么 Hyunjin 突然想要做这种彻底的风格改变。他的染发师也很好,对于 Hyunjin 烫坏的发梢和青铜色的发根也很友善,以至于 Hyunjin 几乎不相信。这是个美好的一天,一个美好的水疗日。结束时,Hyunjin 终于会变得漂亮。

Naturally, the conversation doesn’t take long to get personal.

“Have you ever heard of”—Felix searches for the word, slipping a fingertip under the front of his crinkly plastic cap to rub at a tiny itch—“the ‘ick?’”
“你听说过”—Felix 寻找着词汇,在他皱巴巴的塑料帽前面滑动指尖,揉搓着一个小小的痒痒—“‘恶心’吗?”

Hyunjin nearly laughs until he sees how serious Felix is. “Yeah, of course,” he says. “Let me guess. Chan?”
Hyunjin 几乎笑出声来,直到看到 Felix 的表情变得认真起来。“是的,当然,”他说。“让我猜猜。是陈?”

“He called me ‘baby’ last night,” Felix confesses, half-groaning. “And it just—I’m sorry, God, I felt awful, and I didn’t say anything in the moment, but it made me feel so gross!”
“昨晚他叫我‘宝贝’,”Felix 供认,半哀叹。“而且,我很抱歉,天啊,我感觉很糟糕,当时我什么都没说,但那让我感觉很恶心!”

Suddenly, Hyunjin understands perfectly and achingly the concept of being blind to one’s own privilege. What a strange thing to complain about. “Why?” he can’t help but say. “I mean, isn’t that a normal, like, romantic pet name?”

Felix shudders. “I don’t even know. I just got the ick! I’ve never even minded pet names before, but coming from Chan it just felt—I mean, I’ve always just been Felix to him, you know?”

Hyunjin never knew Felix to be so resistant to change. “Yeah,” he says, to stall.
Hyunjin 从未料到 Felix 会如此抗拒改变。“是的,”他说,为了拖延时间。

“I feel like that’s a bad sign,” Felix says glumly, slouching in his heat-lamp chair, and Hyunjin can’t help but privately agree.
“我觉得这是个坏兆头,”Felix 闷闷不乐地说着,身子懒散地靠在热灯椅上,Hyunjin 不禁私下里同意。




More in the same vein. Worse than even Hyunjin, who tends inexorably toward the pessimistic, had expected. It’s almost startling, considering Felix, in contrast, is the most optimistic person Hyunjin knows. This should be easy; it should be natural. But it seems like it’s taking a lot of effort, and in the wrong direction.
更多同样的情况。比 Hyunjin 甚至更糟,他总是朝着悲观的方向发展,这超出了他的预期。这几乎让人吃惊,考虑到 Felix 相反,是 Hyunjin 认识的最乐观的人。这应该很容易;应该很自然。但似乎需要花费很多努力,而且方向错误。

“We did try making out—sorry, God, is this TMI?” Felix asks, suddenly hushed, like he hasn’t been telling Hyunjin every single little detail of every single little interaction he and Chan have had for the last two weeks, like Hyunjin doesn’t thrive off of it, nourished like a vampire over a fresh kill. Hyunjin, eyes wide, lower lip sucked into his mouth, rapidly shakes his head, but not too much, so as not to dislodge Felix’s hands from braiding his beautiful, angelic, perfect, silvery-golden spun-silk hair. “Okay. Sorry. We made out, but he kept getting nervous and having to stop—”
“我们试着接吻了—抱歉,天啊,这太多了吗?” 菲利克斯突然问道,突然压低声音,就好像他在过去两周里一直在告诉贤真他和灿的每一个细节,就好像贤真不是靠这些细节生存,像吸血鬼在新鲜的猎物上得到滋养一样。贤真睁大眼睛,下唇吸入嘴里,迅速摇头,但不要摇得太厉害,以免打乱菲利克斯编织他那美丽、天使般、完美、银色金色纺丝般的头发的手。 “好的。抱歉。我们接吻了,但他一直变得紧张,不得不停下来—”

“Nervous? About making out?” Hyunjin snorts. “Is he a virgin?”
“紧张?接吻会紧张吗?” 贤真哼了一声。“他是处男吗?”

“No,” Felix frowns, amusingly offended on Chan’s behalf, and pulls on the end of a lock of Hyunjin’s hair. “He’s just—I mean, it’s me. The stakes are high. I think.” He stops to consider it further. “It was frustrating. Like, I was taking it more seriously than he was. He kept giggling.”
“不是,” 菲利克斯皱着眉头,为灿感到有趣的愤怒,然后拉了一下贤真头发的一缕。 “他只是—我的意思是,是我。赌注很高。我想。” 他停下来进一步考虑。“这很令人沮丧。就好像我比他更认真。他一直在咯咯笑。”

Cute. “So how did it make you feel?” Hyunjin tries instead.
可爱。“那你觉得怎么样?”Hyunjin 尝试问道。

Felix sighs very heavily; it makes his entire body seem to vibrate. “Weird. I don’t want him to be scared of me. I’m going out of my comfort zone here, for him, and he’s, like, still all hung up on how I’m too good for him or something—but I don’t want to be up on a pedestal, and in our friendship, I never was, yeah? And now, all of a sudden, I am.”
Felix 很沉重地叹了口气;整个人似乎在颤抖。“奇怪。我不想让他害怕我。我为了他走出了我的舒适区,但他还是一直在担心我对他来说太好了,或者什么的—但我不想被摆在高处,我们的友谊中,我从来没有这样,对吧?可是,现在,突然之间,我变成了。”

Hyunjin watches his own expression in the mirror, guards it. “You don’t want him to like you too much,” he guesses.
Hyunjin 注视着镜子中自己的表情,加以控制。“你不想让他喜欢你太多,”他猜测道。

“He already does,” Felix says with another sigh. “But that’s the problem, too. Is there such a thing as too much? Why can’t he just like me, without it being some sort of big space opera? That makes me nervous, too. Like I can’t let him down.”
“他已经这样做了,” 费利克斯又叹了口气。“但问题也在于此。有没有什么叫做太多?为什么他不能只是喜欢我,而不是一场大型太空歌剧?这也让我感到紧张。就好像我不能让他失望。”

Don’t let him down, then. “That’s hard,” Hyunjin says softly, while also thinking, I wish someone liked me too much. Felix looks dejected, and Hyunjin can feel his braiding is getting sloppy. To cheer him up, Hyunjin asks, “Is he a better kisser now, at least?”

It doesn’t work, and if anything, Felix only looks guiltier. “I couldn’t really tell, could I?”
这行不通,而且如果说什么,Felix 看起来只会更加内疚。“我真的没办法分辨,对吧?”

Hyunjin twists his mouth to the side, out of gentle platitudes to say. Felix finishes the braid in silence. Hyunjin is watching him. Felix can probably tell, but he’s not meeting his eyes in the mirror. Finally, Felix says, “We’ll figure it out. Don’t worry about me.”
Hyunjin 扭曲了嘴角,无话可说。Felix 一言不发地完成了辫子。Hyunjin 在看着他。Felix 可能察觉到了,但他没有在镜子里与他对视。最后,Felix 说:“我们会想办法的。别担心我。”

I’m worried about him, too.




At least the next time Felix comes to rehearsal looking shrunken, Hyunjin has a better idea of what’s wrong, and Felix doesn’t leave him waiting long—it bursts out of him the moment they’re alone together. “I really think I have to break things off with Chan,” he says.
至少下一次 Felix 来排练时看起来萎缩了,Hyunjin 对出了什么问题有了更好的想法,而 Felix 没有让他久等——他们独处时他就爆发了。“我真的觉得我必须和 Chan 分手,”他说。

It’s what Hyunjin has been waiting for—what he’s been dreading. Chan is going to be devastated, he knows. “What happened this time?” he asks, doing his very best to reserve judgement.
这正是 Hyunjin 一直在等待的事情——也是他一直在担心的事情。他知道 Chan 会伤心透顶。“这次发生了什么事?”他问道,尽力保持中立。

Felix throws his hands up in frustration, like a cartoon character. “Nothing happened—well, that’s not true, something did happen—but it’s just everything. I think I’ve made a huge mistake, honestly.”
Felix 沮丧地举起双手,就像卡通人物一样。“什么都没发生—嗯,这不准确,确实发生了事情—但其实是一切。我觉得我犯了一个大错误,老实说。”

They’re staying in the studio through lunch break; Svetlana Dmitrievna has been insisting that Hyunjin needs extra practice, and Felix offered to help. Hyunjin accepted, although that’s humiliating, just for the sake of hearing whatever was on Felix’s mind. Now, watching their twinned reflections in the mirror as they go through arabesques, Hyunjin is thinking this better be worth it. “What happened?” he repeats, and lifts his back leg higher to get a perfect angle, like Felix.
他们在午休时间仍然待在工作室里;斯维特兰娜·德米特里耶夫娜一直坚持说 Hyunjin 需要额外练习,而 Felix 提出要帮忙。Hyunjin 接受了,尽管这很羞辱,只是为了听听 Felix 心里想的是什么。现在,当他们在镜子里看着彼此的倒影进行阿拉贝斯练习时,Hyunjin 在想这一切最好是值得的。“发生了什么?”他重复道,并抬高后腿以获得完美的角度,就像 Felix 一样。

“A little more to the left,” Felix says, and although it stings, Hyunjin doesn’t snap at him—just arches a little more to the left. Felix continues, “Well, he asked me what we should do for our one-month anniversary. Our one-month anniversary!”
“再往左一点,” 菲利克斯说道,尽管有点刺痛,贤振并没有对他发火——只是再往左方向拱了一点。 菲利克斯继续说道,“嗯,他问我我们一个月纪念日应该做什么。我们的一个月纪念日!”

Has it only been a month? Hyunjin likes a considerate man, a man who keeps track of milestones. “Huh,” he says.
只过了一个月吗?Hyunjin 喜欢一个体贴的男人,一个记得重要时刻的男人。“嗯,”他说。

“It’s weird. It’s only been a month, but it feels like we’re an old couple, all domestic and…” Felix wrinkles his nose. “Boring.” (Hyunjin swallows envy, sucks his stomach in more tightly, draws his head higher toward the ceiling.) “And the other night, when I stayed over at his place”—Felix starts pinkening and stumbles over his words slightly, especially when Hyunjin’s knowing eyes quickly flash to meet his in the mirror—“he—kind of as a joke, but also I know him, he wasn’t joking—he brought up moving in together. But in this way where, like, he was talking about it as a given? Like, should we redo the kitchen tile? And he already cleared out drawers in his dresser for me. Obviously we’ve talked about it before, and we agreed it would never happen, and we spend enough time together, I thought we were on the same page, but now it’s like—it’s like he already decided that’s what we were doing.” Felix frowns. “I don’t really like that.”
“有点奇怪。才一个月而已,但感觉我们像是一对老夫老妻,全都是家常的……” 菲利克斯皱了皱鼻子。“无聊。”(贤振咽了口嫉妒,更用力地收紧了肚子,把头高高地朝天花板上抬起。)“还有那天晚上,我在他家过夜的时候”—菲利克斯开始脸红,说话有些结巴,尤其是当贤振那会意的眼神迅速在镜子里与他对视时—“他—有点像开玩笑,但我也了解他,他并不是在开玩笑—他提出要搬到一起。但是说话的语气,就好像是理所当然的事情?就像,我们应该重新铺设厨房的瓷砖吗?他已经为我清出了他梳妆台的抽屉。显然我们之前已经谈论过这个问题,我们都同意这永远不会发生,我们在一起的时间已经足够多了,我以为我们心有灵犀,但现在就好像—就好像他已经决定我们要这么做了。” 菲利克斯皱眉。“我不太喜欢这样。”

It all sounds perfectly innocuous to Hyunjin. “Do you have a key?”
对于 Hyunjin 来说,这一切听起来都很无害。“你有钥匙吗?”

“I’ve had a key since the day he moved into this place,” Felix huffs. “That’s nothing new.”
“自从他搬到这个地方的那天起,我就有一把钥匙了,”Felix 喘着气说。“这没什么新鲜的。”

Hyunjin mouths, oh. Hyunjin 嘴巴微张,哦。

“I just—” Felix starts and stops, balances his weight from delicate foot to delicate foot, curves his fingertips just so. “I just. It’s all happening too fast. It’s like he’s thinking about marriage while I’m still just trying to decide how I feel. And I think that, more than anything, is showing me how I feel? Does that make sense?”
“我只是——” 菲利克斯开始说话又停下来,将体重从一个精致的脚移到另一个精致的脚,手指弯曲得恰到好处。“我只是。一切发生得太快了。就好像他在考虑结婚,而我还在试图弄清楚自己的感受。我觉得,比起其他任何事情,这更能告诉我自己的感受?这样说有道理吗?”

“Like, if you knew, you’d know by now?”

“Exactly.” Felix is frowning harder, but Hyunjin can see the resolved set to his jaw. He’s making up his mind. He’s choosing wrong. When he looks this serious, Hyunjin is reminded that Felix, sweet little angel Felix, is a Virgo—he can’t be swayed, and he’s not very emotional. Hyunjin wonders what Chan’s sign is. Whether he’ll get over this. The experiment has failed, and Felix has made up his mind. And who’s going to pick up the pieces?
“完全正确。” 菲利克斯皱着眉头,但贤振能看出他下定决心的样子。他正在做决定。他正在做出错误的选择。当他看起来这么认真时,贤振想起了菲利克斯,那个甜美的小天使菲利克斯,是处女座的——他不易受影响,也不太情绪化。贤振想知道灿的星座是什么。他是否会克服这一切。实验失败了,菲利克斯已经做出了决定。那么谁来收拾残局呢?




Felix does it nearly right away, the next time he sees Chan. “It would be cruel to keep leading him on,” he had explained when he and Hyunjin were hugging bye after practice.

“Let me know how it goes,” Hyunjin had said, squeezing Felix extra tight as if trying to comfort him, but really to try and understand how he feels, like he could absorb it through his skin, wear it better than he does. “I’m here if you need anything. Ice cream and Titanic!”

“I’ll be okay,” Felix had laughed, his little fingernails scratching affectionately at Hyunjin’s back. “Just wish me luck.”

Hyunjin did. The words had felt so hollow, but evidently, they’d worked, because Hyunjin hears from Felix nearly right away.
Hyunjin 做了。这些话听起来空洞无力,但显然起了作用,因为 Hyunjin 几乎立刻就听到了 Felix 的消息。

> I did it. 😓😳😶
> 我做到了。😓😳😶

ahh!! how did it go?

> Okay…  > 好的…

> It was hard but
> 很难,但是

> He didn’t seem that upset
> 他似乎并不那么难过

oh really?? 真的吗??

bastard 混蛋

> Hahah stop > 哈哈哈,停下来

> I mean, he didn’t try to talk me out of it or anything
> 我是说,他并没有试图劝我放弃或者什么的

> He actually seemed like he’d been expecting it
> 他实际上似乎早就料到了

aw man 啊,天哪

> Yeah… > 是啊…

are you okay? 你还好吗?

> I feel really bad
> 我感觉真的很糟糕

> But I know I’ll feel better
> 但我知道我会感觉好些的

> Such a huge weight off my shoulders
> 这真是让我如释重负

it was the right thing to do

> Yeah, this is definitely for the best
> 是的,这绝对是最好的选择

yes!! 是的!

i support u 💝
我支持你 💝

youre gonna be okay

> I know > 我知道

> Thank you for everything 💕
> 谢谢你的一切 💕

of course omg 当然天啊

whatever u need always 💝
无论你需要什么都可以 💝




Felix is much happier; it’s obvious, immediately. Hyunjin wants more details—it’s a painful, perverse curiosity, and he wishes he could picture better the look on Chan’s face when Felix choked the words out (and had he said I think we should break up, or I can’t do this anymore, or Sorry, I’m just not that into you, or what?). But he doesn’t ask, because Felix is happier, and things are good. Felix is sunny again, back to normal, how he’d been before any of this happened.
Felix 变得更快乐了;这是显而易见的。Hyunjin 想要更多细节——这是一种痛苦的、扭曲的好奇心,他希望自己能更清楚地想象出 Chan 听到 Felix 说出那些话时的表情(他到底是说“我想我们应该分手”、“我做不到了”、“对不起,我只是对你没那么感兴趣”还是什么?)。但他没有问,因为 Felix 更快乐了,一切都很好。Felix 又变得阳光灿烂,恢复了正常,就像在这一切发生之前一样。

Things are different, though. Chan doesn’t pick Felix up anymore. And Felix doesn’t talk about Chan a hundred times a day—in fact, he practically doesn’t talk about Chan at all. One day, Hyunjin can’t resist, and in the locker room, he asks, “What’s Chan been up to?”
不过,事情有所不同了。Chan 不再去接 Felix 了。Felix 也不再一天到晚谈论 Chan —— 事实上,他几乎不再谈论 Chan 了。有一天,Hyunjin 忍不住,在更衣室里问道:“Chan 最近在忙什么?”

He has no idea if they’ve even been seeing each other; it seems needlessly harsh, twisting the knife, if Felix has gone no-contact after the breakup. But maybe it would be hard for Chan to see him, too, and be reminded of how close he came to happiness? Felix squirms a little at the question, sighs, shrugs. “Working, mostly.”
他不知道他们是否还在见面;如果 Felix 在分手后断了联系,似乎是毫无必要的残忍,像是在揪心。但也许对 Chan 来说,见到他也很难,会让他想起自己离幸福有多近?Felix 对这个问题有些不自在,叹了口气,耸了耸肩。“主要是工作。”

Ah, so they have been seeing each other. “Working too much?” Hyunjin guesses.
啊,他们还在见面啊。“工作太忙了吗?”Hyunjin 猜测。

“When is he not working too much?” Felix says, with a glimmer of his old, usual fondness. Hyunjin hasn’t seen that in a while; they really haven’t been talking about Chan, and until now, Hyunjin hadn’t really realized how much he missed it. But that expression drops fast. Felix adds, “I don’t actually know. We haven’t been hanging out as often.”
“他什么时候不工作过度呢?”Felix 说道,带着他以往的那抹温柔。Hyunjin 好久没见到过了;他们真的很少谈论到 Chan,直到现在,Hyunjin 才意识到他有多么想念。但那表情很快消失了。Felix 补充道:“我其实也不知道。我们见面的次数变少了。”

Oh. “Oh,” Hyunjin says. Carefully, he prods. “How have you… been? Are you doing okay, about everything?”
哦。 “哦,”Hyunjin 说道。小心翼翼地,他询问道。“你……最近怎么样?关于一切,你还好吗?”

Felix nods vigorously and strips off his shirt, emerging rumpled like a dandelion. “I had a D&M with my mum about it over the weekend, and that helped a lot. I still feel bad, obviously, but he seems like he’s doing okay, and just—knowing I don’t have to fake it or force anything is just such a relief. God, I know that’s awful of me.”
Felix 热烈地点头,脱掉衬衫,像蒲公英一样凌乱地出现。“周末我和妈妈谈了一次心事,帮了很多。我仍然感到难过,显然,但他似乎还好,只是——知道我不必假装或强迫任何事情真是一种解脱。天啊,我知道这很可怕。”

“It’s not awful,” Hyunjin soothes, lies. Why did it have to be fake or forced? What’s so wrong with Chan that Felix couldn’t love him back? Everything Felix tells Hyunjin just makes him want to know Chan, love Chan, more. If I had someone in my life like Chan, he thinks, I wouldn’t waste him.
"“这并不可怕,”Hyunjin 安慰,撒谎。为什么必须是虚伪或强迫的呢?Chan 有什么问题,让 Felix 无法回应他的爱?Felix 告诉 Hyunjin 的每件事都让他更想了解 Chan,爱上 Chan。如果我生活中有像 Chan 这样的人,他想,我不会浪费他。”

“We’re supposed to hang out tomorrow, actually,” Felix says. “It’s not the first time we’ll have seen each other since, y’know, but it’ll be the longest proper hangout.”
“实际上,我们明天打算出去玩,”Felix 说。“这不是我们自从那件事以来第一次见面,但这将是最长时间的正式聚会。”

“Oh, really? What are you going to get up to?”

“Park picnic. It was my idea. I just feel like I’ve barely seen him, like, he’s practically been avoiding me.”

Hyunjin watches Felix for a moment—his tiny, slipping body as he contorts himself to pull on his tights. He’s elegant and small and fast like a minnow, but he broke someone’s heart last week, and he barely cares or understands. “Do you miss him?” Hyunjin asks.
Hyunjin 注视着 Felix 片刻——他纤细、扭曲的身体,当他努力穿上紧身裤时。他优雅、娇小、像一条快速的小鱼,但他上周伤了某人的心,他几乎不在乎或理解。“你想念他吗?”Hyunjin 问道。

Felix glances at him quickly, and there’s something totally unreadable in his eyes. “Of course I do. He’s my best friend,” he says, softening. “I know he feels horrible, like he ruined everything, but nothing’s ever going to change how I feel about him.”

Yeah, clearly. Hyunjin has to give up. And Felix is happier. Hyunjin reaches out to gently poke Felix’s freckled shoulder. “Why don’t you ever take me out for a park picnic, huh? Do I have to date you for a month to get that kind of invitation?”

“Hyunjin,” Felix giggles.

“Because I’ll do it! I’ll treat you right!”

“Let’s go this weekend,” Felix says, still giggling, blushing so sweetly. Hyunjin’s chest hurts for a moment—he’s so cute, and when he’s this cute, it’s easy to believe he’s never done anything wrong. Hyunjin understands Chan well; maybe a little too well. Maybe that’s the problem.
“周末我们去吧,” 菲利克斯说着,依然咯咯地笑着,脸颊泛起一抹甜蜜的红晕。赫宁的胸口一阵刺痛——他太可爱了,当他这么可爱的时候,很容易相信他从未做错过任何事情。赫宁很了解灿;也许了解得有点太多了。也许这就是问题所在。




It’s at Hyunjin and Felix’s picnic when things really start to change.

Felix made sandwiches and cookies, Hyunjin provides the drinkies (sugar-free strawberry-elderflower syrup to mix with San Pellegrino, ice cubes with edible flowers frozen into them). They sit on a checkered blanket in the shade of a tree and gossip about the rest of the ballet company, complain about their ballet mistress, compare new scrunchies, and, inevitably, the conversation turns to Chan and how their picnic went, and Felix’s smile drops so quickly that Hyunjin is uncannily reminded of that first time, the day after Chan’s confession. Something’s wrong again.
Felix 做了三明治和饼干,Hyunjin 准备了饮料(无糖草莓接骨木糖浆,可以和 San Pellegrino 混合,还有冰块里面冻着可食用花朵)。他们坐在树荫下的格子毯子上,八卦着芭蕾舞团的其他成员,抱怨芭蕾女教练,比较新的发饰,不可避免地,谈话转向了 Chan 以及他们的野餐经历,Felix 的微笑消失得如此之快,让 Hyunjin 不禁想起了那第一次,Chan 坦白之后的第二天。又出了问题。

“It wasn’t like this,” Felix says, gesturing between himself and Hyunjin, the wicker basket, the soft blanket. The grass. “It wasn’t nice. It was kind of awful, actually. He could barely look at me, and he was trying so hard to be brave and strong—I could tell—but he seemed like, well, a wreck.”
“不是这样的,” 菲利克斯说着,手势间指向自己和贤振,藤篮,柔软的毯子。草地。“不是很好。实际上,有点糟糕。他几乎无法看着我,他努力表现得勇敢和坚强——我能感觉到——但他看起来像,嗯,一团糟。”

Hyunjin makes a crestfallen, sympathetic sound, blinking soulfully at Felix over the tops of his sunglasses. “I thought you said he was doing okay.”
贤振发出一声失望、同情的声音,透过太阳镜的上方,眨巴着眼睛,对着菲利克斯。 “我记得你说他还好。”

“He was!” Felix agrees earnestly. “At least, he seemed like he was! He must have just been being a champ about it until he couldn’t anymore.”
“他是!” 菲利克斯诚恳地表示同意。“至少,他看起来是!他一定一直在努力表现得很棒,直到他再也无法忍受。”

Hyunjin tries to picture it. It must take so much effort—pretending to be that okay when you’re that fucked up. He tongues an ice cube into his mouth and lets it melt in his cheek. “That sucks,” he says, lips numb.
Hyunjin 尝试着想象。那一定需要很大的努力——当你心里乱成一团时还要假装没事。他把一个冰块塞进嘴里,任由它在脸颊上融化。“真糟糕,”他说,嘴唇麻木。

“I just wish he’d talk to me,” Felix says softly. He hangs his head. “He won’t be honest with me about it. He practically told me that outright, when I kept asking him if he was okay. He thinks—he thinks it would pressure me if I knew how poorly he was doing, I guess. Like he was asking for a second chance out of pity or something.”
“我只是希望他能跟我说说话,” 菲利克斯轻声说道。他低下了头。“他不会对我坦诚。当我一直问他是否没事时,他几乎直接告诉我,他认为——他认为如果我知道他过得不好,会给我施加压力,我猜。就好像他在请求怜悯给他第二次机会一样。”

“Well, is he?” “他呢?”

“No,” Felix says. “No, he’s not like that. In a fucked-up way, I kinda get his point of view—he’s trying to protect me. But it’s so frustrating, too, because, like—I can handle it! I want to know how he’s doing! If he’s sad, I want to help! But he won’t let me. Fuck.”
“不,” 菲利克斯说。“不,他不是那种人。以一种扭曲的方式,我有点理解他的观点——他在试图保护我。但也很令人沮丧,因为,就像——我可以处理!我想知道他过得怎么样!如果他难过,我想帮忙!但他不让我。该死。”

To have the cause of your sadness try to help you be less sad—again, Hyunjin understands Chan. He wouldn’t want that, either. What can he say other than that sucks again? “Maybe he just needs some space,” he suggests tentatively.
让导致你悲伤的原因试图帮助你减轻悲伤——再次,贤振理解灿。他也不想要那样。除了再次说“那太糟糕了”之外,他还能说什么呢?“也许他只是需要一些空间,” 他小心翼翼地建议。

Felix sighs heavily and leans back on his hands, spine arching, toes pointing. “He definitely does. I do, too, honestly—it would help me come to terms with everything and keep my feelings clear. But…” His voice takes on a whiny tone, and he sits up abruptly, legs pulling up so he can curl around his knees. “But then—I know him! If I don’t force him to take care of himself, he’ll just waste away, especially when he’s sad. He’s really bad at being alone.”
Felix 沉重地叹了口气,向后倚靠在手上,脊柱拱起,脚尖朝着。"他绝对需要。我也需要,老实说——这会帮助我接受一切并保持我的感情清晰。但是……"他的声音变得有些抱怨,突然坐直起来,双腿拉起,这样他就可以蜷缩在膝盖周围。"但是——我了解他!如果我不强迫他照顾自己,他会消瘦下去,尤其是当他难过的时候。他真的很不擅长独处。

Hyunjin crunches on his ice cube and feels the grit of the flower petals between his teeth.
Hyunjin 咬着冰块,感受着牙齿间花瓣的颗粒感。

“And it would kill me to not know what’s going on with him,” Felix adds, more wistful. He buries his face in his knees. “I just wish I could… argh.” He curls up even more tightly, tense and so small, and then, all of a sudden, he expands, like a corn kernel popping. “Hyunjin!”
“而不知道他发生了什么事会让我难受至极,”Felix 补充道,更加渴望。他把脸埋在膝盖里。“我只是希望我能……啊。”他蜷缩得更紧,紧张而又如此瘦小,突然间,他像爆开的玉米粒一样膨胀。“Hyunjin!”

“Felix?” Hyunjin says, alarmed.
“Felix?” 贤真惊呼道。

“Do you think you could…” Felix is sitting up, reaching for him, eyes saucer-huge, lower lip quivering. “Oh, Hyunjin, this is such a big favor, I can’t ask this of you.”
“你觉得你能不能……” 菲力克斯坐起来,伸手去抓他,眼睛瞪得像茶碟一样大,下唇颤抖着。“哦,贤真,这是一个很大的请求,我不能向你提这个要求。”

“Just do it,” Hyunjin says and reaches for him, too, meeting him halfway to hold his hands. “I told you I’m here for you, whatever you need. What is it?”
“就这么做吧,” 贤真说着也伸手去抓他,走向他,握住他的手。“我告诉过你,无论你需要什么,我都在这里支持你。是什么事?”

Felix bites that quivering lower lip. His chilly hands are tight in Hyunjin’s own. “Do you think you could… check on him for me?”
Felix 咬着那颤抖的下唇。他冰冷的手紧紧握着 Hyunjin 的手。“你觉得你能……替我去看看他吗?”

That’s not at all what Hyunjin had been expecting Felix to say. He doesn’t know what he’d been expecting. But not that. “Oh,” he says. “Um.”
这完全不是 Hyunjin 预料到 Felix 会说的。他不知道自己预料到了什么。但绝不是这个。“哦,”他说。“嗯。”

“Because he says he’s fine, but I know he’s not, and if he doesn’t tell me, then I have no way of knowing,” Felix explains, rushing. “I’ll tell you where you can find him, and if you just keep an eye on him and let me know how he’s doing—”
“因为他说他没事,但我知道他不是,如果他不告诉我,我就没办法知道,”Felix 解释着,匆忙地。“我会告诉你他在哪里,你只要留意他,然后告诉我他的情况——”

“You want me to stalk Chan for you?” Hyunjin clarifies, disbelieving, laughing.

“Not—not stalk! I’m sorry, it’s—you just know him by now, a little bit, through me. I think you’d be able to get through to him. You don’t have to tell him I sent you—or you can, if you want—but actually, it might be better if you don’t. He won’t talk to me, and I just don’t want him to be alone. And you’re the best person I know, and he’s so special, and I really trust you with him. Could you—would you?”

Felix’s eyes are so big. He needs Hyunjin so much, and he’s saying Chan does, too. How can Hyunjin possibly refuse?

“Felix,” Hyunjin says, letting go so he can put one hand over his heart, “I won’t let you down.”
“Felix,” Hyunjin 说,放开他的手,用一只手抚摸着自己的心脏,“我不会让你失望的。”




Felix tells Hyunjin everything Hyunjin needs to know. Where Chan lives, where he works, his typical haunts—coffee shop, salad bar, dive bar. He sends Hyunjin a Venmo of $25, for his trouble, and for whatever drink or snack or whatever he’ll need to buy to pass the time while waiting for Chan. Hyunjin’s task is simple: just get proof of life. If possible, strike up a conversation, get an overall unvarnished read on Chan’s mental state, maybe offer a shoulder to cry on if he needs it. Felix won’t interfere. He thinks they’ll get along. He’s so grateful, so grateful. He looks happier every day, now that he’s transferred the burden of worry onto Hyunjin. The plan is convoluted—and it’s not even a real plan. They both know that as soon as Hyunjin drops Felix’s name, Chan will clam up; Hyunjin doesn’t know how he’ll talk to Chan without bringing Felix up. He’s not as bold as Felix thinks he is. But he can do this, one way or another. It’ll be good for everyone, he thinks. All he wants is to help.
Felix 告诉 Hyunjin 一切 Hyunjin 需要知道的事情。Chan 住在哪里,他在哪里工作,他的典型去处——咖啡店、沙拉吧、酒吧。他给 Hyunjin 转了 25 美元的 Venmo,作为他的麻烦费,以及为了让他在等 Chan 的时候买点饮料或零食之类的。Hyunjin 的任务很简单:只需证明 Chan 还活着。如果可能的话,和他聊聊天,了解一下 Chan 的精神状态,或许在他需要时提供一个可以倾诉的肩膀。Felix 不会干涉。他觉得他们会相处得很好。他是如此感激,如此感激。自从他把担忧的重担转移到 Hyunjin 身上后,他每天看起来都更开心。这个计划错综复杂——甚至不算是一个真正的计划。他们俩都知道,一旦 Hyunjin 提到 Felix 的名字,Chan 就会闭口不谈;Hyunjin 不知道自己该如何在不提到 Felix 的情况下和 Chan 交谈。他没有 Felix 认为的那么大胆。但无论如何,他可以做到。他觉得这对每个人都有好处。他所想要的只是帮助。




The bar will be the easiest place. Chan goes for exactly one drink every Friday night, which is lucky, because Hyunjin and Felix’s practice ends early on Fridays. It gives Hyunjin enough time to go home and get changed before he goes back out on his mission. Felix hugs him extra tightly this Friday, and now he’s the one wishing Hyunjin luck—it doesn’t sound hollow at all. It’s so full of sincerity and warmth and gratitude. Hyunjin is so nervous he might be sick, but he just promises again that Felix has nothing to worry about, and heads on home to get changed.
酒吧会是最容易的地方。Chan 每个星期五晚上只喝一杯酒,这很幸运,因为 Hyunjin 和 Felix 的练习星期五结束得很早。这给了 Hyunjin 足够的时间回家换衣服,然后再出发执行任务。这个星期五,Felix 特别紧紧地拥抱了他,现在他也在祝福 Hyunjin 好运——这一点都不空洞。这充满了真诚、温暖和感激。Hyunjin 紧张得可能要吐,但他只是再次承诺 Felix 不用担心,然后回家换衣服。

He’s been so calm and casual all week. He hasn’t brought Chan up himself; he’s waited for Felix to initiate every single conversation. He doesn’t want to seem too eager. Too invested. He’s helping Felix, he reminds himself a thousand times a day, he’s helping Chan. It’ll be so strange to finally meet him—Hyunjin feels like he knows him, but Chan won’t know him. Or will he? Has Felix been talking about Hyunjin to Chan, the way he talks about Chan to Hyunjin?

Great—now Hyunjin is nervous again, because that is a massive, glaring flaw in Felix’s slapdash plan. He reminds himself that it’s not that serious; this is basically just a spy mission. Light stalking. Just seeing if Chan is sobbing himself to sleep every night. Hyunjin will figure it out. He’s attractive. He’s magnetic. Strangers randomly talk to him in public all the time. He can channel some of that energy back out into the world. And he knows Chan. He knows Chan better than Chan will ever be expecting to be known. This will work.

He goes home and dolls up, his heart beating so hard and fast that he can practically see it through his ribcage and skin when he’s half-naked. Will Chan be okay? Will Chan like him? What do people even fucking wear to bars? He hasn’t been to a non-dancer nightlife event in years. He tries on nearly everything in his closet, and finally settles for something casual, unobtrusive, simple: a cropped ink-black blazer with nothing underneath, and tie-waist leather pants. A gold necklace for luck, mascara for luck, perfume for luck. He brushes his golden hair until it’s gleaming. He tries not to overthink it. He tries to be himself, even though today’s a day where he doesn’t know what that means. And he takes a dozen selfies, but doesn’t send a single one to Felix, for once bored of his own beauty. He’d rather do some good today.
他回家打扮整齐,心脏怦怦跳个不停,当他半裸时,他几乎可以看到它透过他的肋骨和皮肤。Chan 会没事吗?Chan 会喜欢他吗?人们到酒吧穿什么?他已经好几年没去过非舞者的夜生活活动了。他试穿了衣柜里几乎所有的衣服,最终选择了一件休闲、低调、简单的服装:一件裁剪得很短的墨黑色西装外套,里面什么都没有,配上系腰皮裤。一条金项链带来好运,睫毛膏带来好运,香水带来好运。他刷着金色的头发,直到闪闪发光。他试着不想太多。他试着做自己,尽管今天是一个他不知道自己是谁的日子。他自拍了十几张照片,但这一次没有把任何一张发给 Felix,他对自己的美感到厌倦。他今天宁愿做一些有意义的事情。

His hands are shaking in the Uber. Nonsensically, he wishes Felix were with him. They have fun together, and Felix likes him, and Hyunjin likes himself when he’s with Felix, too. Felix brings out a lot of Hyunjin’s confidence, and a caring side. Remembering Felix, keeping him in mind, is helping. Hyunjin is very bad at being alone, too. He and Chan have that in common.
他的手在 Uber 上颤抖着。毫无意义地,他希望菲利克斯和他在一起。他们在一起很开心,菲利克斯喜欢他,而且当他和菲利克斯在一起时,贤真也喜欢自己。菲利克斯激发了贤真很多的自信和关心的一面。记得菲利克斯,把他放在心上,这有所帮助。贤真也很不擅长独处。他和灿也有这个共同点。

He asks the car to drop him off a block away. This is so not his area; he’s such a fish out of water. What if he gets mugged or lost? He has no one here, not that he has many people anywhere. He hugs his arms around his exposed waist but keeps his shoulders square and doesn’t trip on any jutting concrete. The street is quiet and dark, but he can see—and hear—the bar, snatches of music coming his way on the breeze. He hugs himself around the middle tighter. Only when he’s within touching distance of the bar’s door does he release—he has to affect a confidence he doesn’t feel, draw his back straight up, chin angled, limbs loose, like he’s about to step out onto the stage. His stage tonight is a red brick building with a buzzing neon sign reading BILLY’S. The lights are down and he’s the prima. He opens the door. He goes inside.

Chan isn’t there—Hyunjin stands in the doorway scanning every possible face. But he figured he wouldn’t be here yet; according to Felix, he finishes work at 6, then has dinner at home, then meanders over for his singular drink, and is home again by 8. It’s a narrow window. Hyunjin hopes he’s just slipped through. Hyunjin installs himself at the end of the actual bar—heads turn as he goes. He tries not to notice. He orders a tonic water—“Yes, not soda water.” He’s upset, a little, that he’s standing out; he’d really tried to look modest. One TV is playing a basketball game and the other is playing baseball. He doesn’t recognize the song playing from the literal jukebox. He’s already cold and he checks his phone and waits for a text from Felix saying he’s changed his mind and he’s going to talk to Chan himself, but it doesn’t come.
陈不在那里——贤振站在门口,扫视着每一张可能的脸。但他想他还没有到这里;根据 Felix 的说法,他下班时间是 6 点,然后在家吃晚饭,然后慢慢地过来喝他那杯独饮,然后在 8 点前回家。这是一个狭窄的时间窗口。贤振希望他只是悄悄溜过去了。贤振坐在实际吧台的尽头——他走过去时,人们的头都转了过来。他尽量不去注意。他点了一杯奎宁水——“是的,不是苏打水。”他有点不高兴,因为他显眼了;他真的很努力地想显得朴素。一个电视正在播放篮球比赛,另一个正在播放棒球比赛。他不认识点播音乐的歌曲。他已经感到冷了,他查看手机,等待 Felix 的短信,说他改变主意,要自己和陈谈谈,但短信没有到来。

The tonic water is bitter in his mouth, and it’s difficult to swallow, but it’ll keep him focused. He keeps his eyes on his phone, but he’s actually watching the door. He’s chewing on the tiny red straw. He asks for a maraschino cherry. 6 comes, then 7—Hyunjin imagines Chan having a quiet, lonely dinner. He shudders internally every time the door squawks over its frame with a new entry, but it’s always some ruddy middle-aged man, not Hyunjin’s Prince Charming, and said man inevitably gawks when he sees Hyunjin at the end of the bar. Hyunjin is tired of everybody looking at him. He wants someone to look at instead.
他口中的苦水很难咽下,但能让他保持专注。他盯着手机,实际上在看门。他在咀嚼着那根红色的吸管。他要了一个玛斯基诺樱桃。6 点过去了,然后是 7 点——贤真想象着灿在安静孤独地吃晚餐。每次门在新的人进来时发出吱吱声,他内心都会颤抖,但总是一些满脸红润的中年男人,而不是贤真心目中的白马王子,而且当这些男人看到贤真坐在吧台的尽头时,他们总是会瞪大眼睛。贤真厌倦了所有人都盯着他看。他想要有人可以看着。

When Chan comes in, Hyunjin is slouching. But Chan comes in, and Hyunjin sits up straight.
当 Chan 进来时,Hyunjin 正在懒散地坐着。但是 Chan 一进来,Hyunjin 就坐直了。

Oh, he’s beautiful. Oh, he’s perfect. So much better than Hyunjin remembered, than his mind was able to fill in the gaps. He’s not as tall as Hyunjin had expected—he’s shorter than Hyunjin—but Hyunjin is charmed by that, helplessly, he knows Chan must be so sweet. There’s his big nose, and now Hyunjin can also see the bags under his eyes, the spaces where his hair is messy, where he hasn’t been taking care of himself. He missed a spot shaving—Hyunjin wants to touch. Seeing him in the flesh has changed everything. Hyunjin quivers, braced, waiting for Chan’s dark eyes to flicker up and over and find him, the same way every stupid man who’s come into this bar has looked at him, but—Chan doesn’t. He doesn’t look up at all. He sits diagonally from Hyunjin at the opposite end of the bar and stares at the baseball-playing TV and orders “the usual” from the bartender. His accent, fuck—it’s like Felix’s, but cuter. He looks so good, so real. His posture is awful, and Hyunjin’s back aches in sympathy, his hands want to push against his vertebrae and straighten them out for him. His head is hanging heavy. His “usual” is amber liquid on the rocks, and Hyunjin sips his tonic, chews the stem of his cherry, and watches.
哦,他真美。哦,他完美无缺。比 Hyunjin 记忆中的要好得多,比他的脑海中能填补的空白要好得多。他并不像 Hyunjin 预期的那样高大——他比 Hyunjin 还要矮——但 Hyunjin 被这个事实迷住了,他知道 Chan 一定很温柔。他有着高大的鼻子,现在 Hyunjin 也能看到他眼袋下的黑眼圈,头发凌乱的地方,他没有好好照顾自己。他刮胡子时漏掉了一块——Hyunjin 想要触摸。看到他真人改变了一切。Hyunjin 颤抖着,支撑着,等待着 Chan 的深邃眼睛扫过来,发现他,就像每个进这家酒吧的愚蠢男人看他的方式一样,但是——Chan 没有。他根本没有抬头看。他斜坐在酒吧另一端,盯着播放棒球的电视,对酒保点了“惯常的”饮料。他的口音,该死——像 Felix 的,但更可爱。他看起来如此出色,如此真实。他的姿势糟透了,Hyunjin 的背因同情而疼痛,他的手想要推着脊椎骨,把它们挺直。他的头沉重地垂着。 他的“惯例”是冰块上的琥珀色液体,Hyunjin 啜饮着她的奎宁,咀嚼着樱桃的茎,注视着。

One drink. Chan only ever has one drink. He’s a steady sipper, half-watching the TV, half-scrolling through his phone. Hyunjin is frozen—terrified. He hadn’t planned this enough. He doesn’t know what to say to him, how to just approach out of the blue and ask him, a perfect stranger (literally), how he’s doing, really. What had Felix been thinking? Hyunjin touches his phone in his blazer’s inner pocket, considering texting him, saying that it’s all good, Chan seems fine, but—he doesn’t seem fine, really. His eyes look like a soldier’s. The bartender tries to chat, but Chan practically ignores him. The amber liquid is sipped away and Hyunjin is missing his chance. He’s swaying a little on the stool because he needs to get up and move and go and talk to him, but he’s riveted. He’s staring through his eyelashes, not wanting to catch Chan’s attention before Chan is ready. And Chan doesn’t notice.
一杯酒。Chan 只喝一杯酒。他稳稳地小口喝着,一半看着电视,一半在手机上滑动。Hyunjin 僵住了——恐惧。他没有计划得足够周到。他不知道该对他说什么,如何突然走上前去问他,一个完全陌生的人(字面上),他到底怎么样,真的。Felix 在想什么呢?Hyunjin 碰了碰内口袋里的手机,考虑着发条短信给他,说一切都好,Chan 看起来没事,但——他看起来并不好,真的。他的眼神像一个士兵。酒吧员试图聊天,但 Chan 几乎不理他。琥珀色的液体被啜饮殆尽,Hyunjin 错过了机会。他在凳子上摇摆着,因为他需要站起来、走动、去和他说话,但他被吸引住了。他透过睫毛凝视着,不想在 Chan 准备好之前引起他的注意。而 Chan 没有注意到。

The glass is down to dregs. There’s a good person in there—all these random men, these meat-and-potatoes red-blooded men, have no idea what a good person is sitting at the edge of this bar, nursing icy scotch (or whatever it is). Hyunjin knows, but can’t do anything about it, because he doesn’t know anyone like Chan, he never has, he wouldn’t even know where to begin talking to him. Felix just had Chan handed to him on a silver platter—no wonder he didn’t treasure him. Look at those broad shoulders, that sad smile. He deserves to be treasured. Hyunjin has been sitting up perfectly straight this entire time, like a deer poised to bolt, and this should be his chance—he should be coiling to strike—Chan is waving the bartender over, presumably to pay for his drink so he can leave—and Hyunjin extends a leg to press against the bar’s sticky floor, heart in his throat, quinine settling unpleasantly in his stomach, because he has to go, if he doesn’t go now he never will, and he’s taking half a step and opening his mouth to speak, but—Chan taps his fingertips on the rim of his glass. “I’ll do another, please,” he says to the bartender.

Hyunjin sits back down, heavily. Chan gets a new drink. He drinks this one faster. He gets a third. According to Felix’s primer on all things Chan, this shouldn’t be happening—this never happens. The music from the jukebox is louder and Hyunjin gets a glass of moscato—which the bar serves for some reason, presumably keeps stocked just in case one of these men happens to bring their girlfriend along. Chan’s cheeks are visibly warm and his eyelids are unsteady. He’s drinking the third one slower and Hyunjin hasn’t taken his eyes off him for a second. So he’s watching as some other man comes over to order a beer, says something about the baseball game to Chan, and as Chan laughs, loud and bright, sways on his stool, responds in kind. He has opened up—he’s loose where he’d been tense, he’s relaxed where he’d been upset. He sends the other man off with a fraternal clap to the shoulder. This is Hyunjin’s chance.
Hyunjin 沉重地坐了下来。Chan 拿了一杯新饮料。他喝得更快了。他又拿了第三杯。根据 Felix 对 Chan 所有事情的初步介绍,这不应该发生——这从来没有发生过。点唱机传来的音乐更响了,Hyunjin 拿了一杯莫斯卡托酒——酒吧出售这种酒,可能是为了以防其中一个男人带着女朋友来。Chan 的脸颊明显发烫,眼皮有些飘忽。他慢慢地喝着第三杯,而 Hyunjin 一直没有移开目光。于是,他看着另一个男人走过来点啤酒,对 Chan 说了一些关于棒球比赛的话,当 Chan 大声笑着,摇摇晃晃地坐在凳子上时,以同样的方式回应。他敞开心扉——他在原本紧张的地方变得轻松,他在原本烦躁的地方变得放松。他用手拍了拍那个男人的肩膀,示意他离开。这是 Hyunjin 的机会。

“Excuse me,” he says politely to the bartender, hushed. “Could I have another glass of this, please, and also one of whatever he’s having?”

The bartender hasn’t been trained in reserving judgement and looks Hyunjin up and down this time. “Let me guess. You want me to put it on his tab?” he says, but it sounds like a joke that’s going over Hyunjin’s head, and Hyunjin, frowning slightly, shakes no and holds out his own credit card. The bartender shrugs. He pours Hyunjin’s wine, and he pours Chan’s something-or-other. Whiskey, maybe. Hyunjin can feel the moscato in his head and heart—he’s not drunk, but he’s braver. And Chan, visibly, is drunk. Hyunjin sniffs the amber liquid in the glass the bartender has left for him and nearly retches—it’s like floor cleaner. But across the bar, Chan is resting his cheek in his hand, glazed eyes on the TV, cheeks glowing. He needs someone to talk to. Hyunjin needs to be that someone.

He stands. He draws himself up nice and pretty. He has a glass in each hand. Chan isn’t looking his way—Hyunjin is, accidentally, sneaking up on him. He walks smoothly, in a straight line, intention locked on his target just like Svetlana Dmitrievna always yells at him to do. If only she could see him now—she’d swoon. Chan still isn’t looking. Not even when Hyunjin sets the glasses down next to him with a wet clink against the bartop. Not even when Hyunjin slips down to sit on the stool by his side. He’s so much more handsome from this close. That strong nose. His strong jaw. His hair, Hyunjin notices, has just a little curl to it. Hyunjin is blushing. “You look lonely,” Hyunjin says.

Chan glances at him, then again, a double-take, and jolts to the point he nearly falls off his stool—delayed, in slow-motion. “Fuck,” he says, grasping for the edge of the bar, and Hyunjin grasps for him, too, holding his arm to keep him from toppling. He doesn’t let go even when Chan seems stable—he can’t help himself, he wants to touch him, and Chan is warm and firm. Chan is goggling at him, drunk eyes dazy, lips barely slack, jaw dropping. It’s like he’s staring into the sun. Hyunjin knows that look, and he’s never been prouder to be on the receiving end of it. He can’t help a small smile, and Chan, settled, breathes, “Hi. Sorry. Are you real?”

“Yes. Are you?” Hyunjin replies, and does, finally, for propriety’s sake, force himself to let go of Chan’s arm, even though the fact that Chan’s already apologizing—for what?—makes him want to dig his claws in even tighter. He nudges the glass of floor cleaner a couple of inches closer to Chan. He doesn’t know what he’s doing and he feels like he’s doing it all wrong. “Mind if I sit with you? I’m lonely, too.”
“是的。你呢?”Hyunjin 回答道,最终,出于礼貌,他终于强迫自己松开了 Chan 的胳膊,尽管 Chan 已经在为什么而道歉——为什么?—这让他更想抓得更紧。他把地板清洁剂的玻璃杯往 Chan 身边挪了几英寸。他不知道自己在做什么,感觉自己全都错了。“我能和你坐在一起吗?我也很孤独。”

Chan is staring at him now, really staring. He must catch himself, because he shuts his mouth and shakes his head like he’s shaking something loose, and his cheeks are even redder. “That’s… fine,” he says. He also looks back over his shoulder, checking for someone else. “You’re… talking to me, right?”

“Yes,” Hyunjin says, and he can’t stop smiling now. “How’s your night going?”

“Terrible,” Chan groans, tongue catching barely in the middle of the word. Not like he’s slurring—just like he’s talking faster than he can think, even in such short bursts. “Just—so bad.”

Hyunjin hums, tips his head to the side, watches the unhappy lines between Chan’s eyebrows, at the corners of his mouth. He can’t picture Chan and Felix together; they seemingly have nothing in common. But much like how Felix brings out something caring in Hyunjin, Chan is bringing out a new confidence in Hyunjin, too. Maybe just because Chan is drunk and sad and Hyunjin wants to make him feel better. That’s it. “But better now?” he offers lightly.
Hyunjin 哼着小曲,歪着头,看着 Chan 眉头间不快的皱纹,嘴角的弧度。他无法想象 Chan 和 Felix 在一起;他们似乎没有任何共同之处。但就像 Felix 在 Hyunjin 身上唤起了某种关怀,Chan 也在 Hyunjin 身上唤起了新的自信。也许只是因为 Chan 喝醉了,心情低落,而 Hyunjin 想让他感觉好一点。就是这样。“但现在好点了吗?”他轻描淡写地问道。

Chan appears to notice the glass Hyunjin had brought him for the first time, and Hyunjin, invitingly, takes a sip of his own wine. Chan seems speechless or tongue-tied and Hyunjin wants to undo him. How could Felix hurt him? Hyunjin can actually picture it, now, the face Chan must have made, the way he must have crumpled when Felix said whatever words he said. It’s horrible. Chan doesn’t look like that now, though. He just swallows thickly and, hesitating, reaches for the glass. Hyunjin thrills at this tacit acceptance. “I dunno,” Chan says finally. “It’s pretty bad.”
Chan 似乎第一次注意到 Hyunjin 给他拿来的酒杯,而 Hyunjin 友好地喝了一口自己的酒。Chan 似乎无言以对,Hyunjin 想要让他释然。Felix 怎么会伤害他?现在,Hyunjin 实际上可以想象出来,Chan 当时的表情,Felix 说出那些话时他应该是如何崩溃的。太可怕了。不过,Chan 现在看起来不那样。他只是吞了吞口水,犹豫着,伸手拿起了酒杯。Hyunjin 对这种默契的接受感到兴奋。“我不知道,”Chan 最终说道。“情况很糟糕。”

“Then let’s make it better,” Hyunjin suggests, and, since he’s had one and a half glasses of wine and because Chan is very drunk, he puts his hand on Chan’s arm, and slides it down. He can’t believe himself—his heart is pounding, and his eyes are wide when Chan’s not looking. He’s never this forward. But Chan needs help. “Tell me what’s wrong.”

Chan groans again, quieter. Hyunjin wouldn’t be surprised if he didn’t even notice the touch. “So lame,” he mutters. “It’s the—the classic thing. Got dumped.”

To hear him put it like that—so blunt. So sad. Hyunjin knows Felix wouldn’t describe it that way—that he dumped Chan. Hyunjin inhales, pets his hand lightly down Chan’s arm again. He’s in a soft flannel, but he doesn’t look comfortable in it, not even with the alcohol easing the world. Now Chan notices, glancing at Hyunjin’s hand and then up at his face, and he looks so startled all anew, and Hyunjin offers him another gentle smile. “I’m sorry,” he murmurs. “I think I could tell.”
听他这么直率地说出来,真是太伤感了。Hyunjin 知道 Felix 不会这样描述,他是甩了 Chan。Hyunjin 深吸一口气,再次轻抚着 Chan 的手臂。他穿着一件柔软的法兰绒衬衫,但即使有酒精缓解着世界,他看起来也不舒适。现在 Chan 注意到了,瞥了一眼 Hyunjin 的手,然后抬起头看着他的脸,他看起来又惊讶又新奇,Hyunjin 又给了他一个温和的微笑。“对不起,”他低声说。“我想我能感觉到。”

“It’s so fucked up,” Chan says. He’s so open, so confused. “But I deserved it.”
“太糟糕了,”Chan 说。他是如此坦诚,如此困惑。“但我活该。”

“I’m sure that’s not true,” Hyunjin says with a frown.

Chan laughs; it’s bitter, like Hyunjin’s tonic water earlier. He picks up the glass Hyunjin had gotten for him and takes a long drink. Notably, he hasn’t pushed Hyunjin’s hand off his arm—honestly, he might have forgotten it was there. “It is, though,” he says once he’s swallowed, and the liquor has made him hoarse. It’s so attractive, Hyunjin needs to take a few shallow breaths. “I deserved it for thinking—thinking I could ever—have a shot. I guess.”

Hyunjin hums. Pets him, soothingly. “Why wouldn’t you have had a shot?”
Hyunjin 哼着小曲。抚摸着他,安抚地说道:“你为什么不打一枪呢?”

Chan’s face twitches into a grimace. He shakes his head. “I’m such a fucking loser, mate, I don’t know. I always lose, that’s the—that’s the thing about me. I should just give up.”

“No,” Hyunjin says, startled, and leans closer to him. “How does that make sense? It’s just one breakup. It doesn’t define you.

“Yeah, this one really does, though,” Chan sighs.

Hyunjin braves on; this is helping. This has to help. “And what do they say? There’s plenty of fish in the sea, hm?”
Hyunjin 勇敢地继续前行;这有帮助。这一定会有帮助。“他们说什么?海里有很多鱼,是吗?”

Chan stubbornly shakes his head. “Not for me.”
Chan 顽固地摇摇头。“对我来说不是。”

Hyunjin squeezes his arm until Chan looks up at him. Dark, sad eyes. Unhappy, plush mouth. He’s the most beautiful, most real person Hyunjin has ever seen. Horribly, selfishly, Hyunjin wants him all to himself. “I’m talking to you, aren’t I?” he points out very softly.
Hyunjin 紧紧握住他的胳膊,直到 Chan 抬头看着他。深邃、悲伤的眼睛。不开心的、丰满的嘴唇。他是 Hyunjin 见过的最美丽、最真实的人。可怕的、自私的是,Hyunjin 想要他全部属于自己。“我在和你说话,不是吗?”他非常轻声地指出。

Chan snorts. He shakes his head again, like he’s shaking off a fly. “Sure. But you’re not, like, into me.”

“Sure, I am,” Hyunjin says—it just slips out of him, so easy, so easy it’s surprising, but it’s so honest. Sweetly, innocently, meaning it, he bats his eyelashes.

Chan can’t look away, and neither can Hyunjin. Disbelievingly, still hoarse, Chan starts to laugh. His cheeks are flushed and burning. Hyunjin remembers that Chan doesn’t know his name. That Hyunjin’s not supposed to know his. Chan is curling back, awkward and tense, and drawing his arm away from Hyunjin’s touch. “Sorry,” he says, “sorry, fuck, I just—I can’t believe someone who looks like you… would be into me.

“How come? You’re gorgeous,” Hyunjin says, but it’s not right, something’s wrong, Chan is pulling away, closing off. He’s shaking his head so Hyunjin’s words won’t even enter his ears. That bitter laugh is back, and Hyunjin knows how he feels—so drunk that it’s not fun anymore. And Chan is still pulling away, and even starting to stand, and even turning his head to look at the door, like he’s going to leave, and Hyunjin—panics. He just panics, and for some reason, all he can think about is the way the bartender had looked him up and down and assumed he’d be putting his drinks on Chan’s tab—like he’s the proverbial nice boy like you in a place like this, like he dressed up real nice just to get someone to buy his drinks for him, to buy his time for him, and Hyunjin is panicking, and he grabs Chan’s leaving arm, and says, “Wait.”

“Sorry,” Chan says so quietly, gives his arm a little tug, “sorry, I just—I know you couldn’t be into me, just being stupid again, I—”

“But I could be,” Hyunjin blurts, “for a price.”

Chan goes extremely, preternaturally still, and Hyunjin thinks, What the fuck is wrong with me?

After an interminable and excruciating pause, Chan says, “Oh.”

Hyunjin isn’t breathing. The weight of the realization that he’s just ruined everything—just royally fucked it up—is compressing his spine such that he can barely keep his head up. Of everything in the world—every way he could possibly think of to get Chan’s attention and let him lick his wounds—why had he thought of this? Of pretending to be an escort? Ah, yes, male prostitutes, famously a respected and trustworthy group. Now that’s inviting. Now that’s something Chan wants to be around. At least, Hyunjin thinks, despairing, at least this’ll make a funny story for him to tell Felix, when they’re all made up.

But Chan is sitting back down. He’s looking at Hyunjin like at a lethal animal through thin glass at a zoo. Admiring, curious, a little bit afraid. “Oh,” he says again. “Really?”

Hyunjin, incapable of breath or speech, nods.

Impossibly, Chan seems to be relaxing. He’s cracking a new smile—one that crinkles the corners of his eyes. He takes a sip of his forgotten drink. “Oh,” for the third time. “Figures. Of course.”
令人难以置信的是,Chan 似乎在放松。他露出了一个新的微笑——那种让他的眼角皱起的微笑。他喝了一口被遗忘的饮料。“哦,”第三次。“当然。”

“Of course?” Hyunjin repeats.
“当然?”Hyunjin 重复道。

Chan, vaguely, gestures, still smiling to himself. “Explains it. Someone who looks like you being into me. Dunno why I didn’t see it sooner.”

Hyunjin glances down at his own body. Chan’s really not questioning this. How could he have seen it sooner? Hyunjin isn’t a real hooker. Is Chan saying he looks like an expensive whore? Hyunjin isn’t sure how he feels about that. What he is sure of, though, is that Chan isn’t running away anymore. Unsteadily, but testing the limits of how far he’s willing to commit to this, Hyunjin says, “I mean, I did actually want to come talk to you.”
Hyunjin 低头看了看自己的身体。Chan 真的没有质疑这一点。他怎么可能早就看出来呢?Hyunjin 不是真正的妓女。Chan 是在说他看起来像一个昂贵的妓女吗?Hyunjin 对此感觉如何并不确定。但他确定的是,Chan 不再逃跑了。虽然有些摇摇晃晃,但也在测试他愿意投入多少的极限,Hyunjin 说:“我是说,我确实想过来找你谈谈。”

“You could see I needed company,” Chan corrects. That smile is very nice. Wistful, self-effacing, but it makes him look five years younger. Hyunjin wants to see all his different smiles—his real ones, especially. Chan exhales against his glass—condensation pools—and shakes his head, this time in smiling disbelief. “Wow. Good for you, y’know?”
“你看得出我需要陪伴,”Chan 纠正道。那个微笑很好。略带忧郁、谦逊,但让他看起来年轻了五岁。Hyunjin 想看到他所有不同的笑容——尤其是他真正的笑容。Chan 向玻璃杯吐气——玻璃上结了水珠——摇了摇头,这次是带着微笑的不可思议。“哇。你做得好,你知道吗?”

“Is it?” Hyunjin says, against all odds starting to smile too. How would a fancy hooker smile? Just for fun, he tries it: a subtle glimmer, his head tilted back.
“是吗?”Hyunjin 说,出乎意料地也开始微笑起来。一个高级妓女会怎么笑呢?只是为了好玩,他试了试:微妙的闪光,头微仰。

Chan nods vehemently. His eyes catch on Hyunjin’s smile. “That’s, like—a real job. The oldest profession, isn’t that what it’s called? And you—I have to hand it to you, mate, you really got me talking. I mean, I’m a chatty drunk, sorry, but not like that.
Chan 断然点头。他的目光落在 Hyunjin 的笑容上。“那可是一个真正的职业。最古老的职业,不是这么说的吗?而你——我得承认,伙计,你真的让我开口了。我的意思是,我是个话痨,抱歉,但不是那样的。”

“That was nothing,” Hyunjin finds himself saying. He leans an elbow on the bar. He picks up his wine. He sips. Once again, he has no fucking idea what he’s doing. “You didn’t even tell me that much. I’d like to hear more.”
「那只是小事,」Hyunjin 发现自己在说。他用手肘撑在吧台上。拿起酒杯。抿了一口。他又一次毫无头绪。「你甚至都没告诉我那么多。我想听更多。」

Chan laughs. It’s a nice laugh. He keeps looking at Hyunjin now. “You an undercover cop?”
Chan 笑了。笑声很好听。他现在一直盯着 Hyunjin。「你是卧底警察吗?」

Hyunjin arches an eyebrow. “Do I look like an undercover cop?”
Hyunjin 扬起一根眉毛。「我看起来像卧底警察吗?」

“No,” Chan says, laughing again, looking down to drink, and Hyunjin takes this opportunity to lean in just an inch or two further—he’d be even bolder, he thinks, if he really were what Chan now thinks he is. That makes Chan abruptly stop laughing, when he looks up and sees how close Hyunjin has gotten. His swallow is long, and he hiccups.
“不,”Chan 笑着说道,低头喝了口酒,而 Hyunjin 抓住这个机会再往前靠近一两英寸——他想,如果他真的是 Chan 现在认为他是的话,他会更大胆。当 Chan 抬头看到 Hyunjin 已经靠得如此近时,他突然停止了笑声。他长长地咽了口水,打了个嗝。

Hyunjin asks, “Are you an undercover cop?”
Hyunjin 问道:“你是卧底警察吗?”

Chan mutely shakes his head.
Chan 默默摇了摇头。

“Now that we’ve established neither one of us is an undercover cop,” Hyunjin says, “can I get you another drink?”
“既然我们已经确定我们都不是卧底警察了,”Hyunjin 说道,“我可以给你倒一杯饮料吗?”

As if it’s hit him all at once, Chan has gone either monosyllabic or silent; he looks down at his glass, which is closer to empty than full, and slowly shakes his head again. “I should stop,” he says. “I’m—I never drink this much.”

“Then should we get you home?” Hyunjin says softly.

Chan goes still again. His eyes flicker to Hyunjin. He swallows, and there’s something—something in his expression—like he’s on a precipice. Like he wants Hyunjin to push him over the edge. He carefully says, “I’m… thank you. Not tonight, it’s… I don’t think…” Hyunjin doesn’t say anything. He lets Chan mumble en route to a destination, which he finally reaches—but it’s not the one Hyunjin had expected: Chan lifts his head, clears his throat, lowers his voice, and says, “How much?”
陈再次静止下来。他的目光闪烁到贤真。他咽了口水,表情中有一种——一种像是站在悬崖边缘的感觉。就像他想让贤真把他推下去一样。他小心地说:“我…谢谢。今晚不行,我觉得…” 贤真什么也没说。他让陈在前往目的地的途中喃喃自语,最终他到达了——但这不是贤真所预期的目的地:陈抬起头,清了清嗓子,声音低了下来,说:“多少钱?”

Oh, fuck. That’s a great question. Hyunjin has to stay cool, not give away his obvious deception, and he can’t even bask in the startling fact that Chan wants it. What to say? He can’t make himself sound cheap, and he remembers what Felix had said about Chan’s job—it pays well. But he also can’t make himself prohibitively expensive. What’s a good in-between sum? Fuck, Chan needs an answer, and it needs to make sense. “…Five,” Hyunjin says.
哦,该死。这是个好问题。Hyunjin 必须保持冷静,不能暴露出明显的欺骗,甚至不能沉浸在 Chan 想要的惊人事实中。该说什么?他不能让自己听起来很廉价,他记得 Felix 说过 Chan 的工作很赚钱。但他也不能让自己变得过于昂贵。一个合适的中间数是多少?该死,Chan 需要一个答案,而且答案必须说得通。“……五,”Hyunjin 说。

Chan exhales, almost like a whistle. (Hyunjin, internally, winces. Too high? Too low? What the fuck am I doing, seriously?) “Five thousand?” he says, quiet, awed. “I mean, I respect that. You’re clearly… a pro, you should be paid for your labor, but that’s… definitely out of my—”
Chan 呼出一口气,几乎像是一个口哨。(Hyunjin 内心痛苦地皱了皱眉。太高了吗?太低了吗?我到底在干什么,真的?)“五千?”他说,轻声,敬畏。“我的意思是,我尊重这一点。你显然是……专业的,你应该得到报酬,但那绝对超出了我的—”

“Hundred,” Hyunjin interrupts smoothly. He watches Chan’s expression change from awed to—hopeful? Encouraged, Hyunjin keeps going, and Chan keeps brightening: “For an overnight. For an hour, it’s one hundred.”

“Oh.” Chan quiets. He traces a fingertip through the drip left behind by his cold glass. Hyunjin’s heart is in his throat again and even the sweet moscato is souring on the backs of his teeth. But Chan glances up again, a slightly crooked smile this time, and he says, “And how much to walk me home?”
“哦。”Chan 安静下来。他用手指在冷玻璃杯留下的水迹上轻轻划过。Hyunjin 的心再次提到了嗓子眼,甜美的莫斯卡托酒甚至在他的牙齿上变得酸涩。但是 Chan 再次抬起头,这次露出了略微歪斜的微笑,他说:“那走我回家要多少钱?”

Hyunjin lights up. He can’t help it. “Baby, I’ll do that for free.”
Hyunjin 眉开眼笑。他控制不住。“宝贝,这个我会免费做的。”

It makes Chan laugh, which is what Hyunjin wanted. “Okay,” Chan shrugs, loose, grinning, having fun again, and Hyunjin holds out a hand to help him off the stool, and Chan takes it—sudden touch, so startling, so warm. They both have to pause. Chan looks at him—has to look up. “I’m Chris,” Chan says.
这让陈笑了,这正是贤真想要的。 “好的,”陈耸了耸肩,轻松地笑着,再次玩得开心起来,贤真伸出手去帮他从凳子上下来,陈接过——突如其来的触碰,如此惊人,如此温暖。他们都不得不停下来。陈看着他——不得不仰视。“我是 Chris,”陈说。

Oh? He’s using a fake name? Why? How saucy. He wants it. He wants it. He wouldn’t be using a fake name if he didn’t want it—if he didn’t want it, and the anonymity that’ll keep him safe, that’ll let him do anything he wants without consequences, and to be someone else, and to do new things. Amazing. Chris. Hyunjin’s hand is in Chan’s and Chan is looking at him expectantly, and at first Hyunjin doesn’t understand why, but then he does, and then he panics again—his mind clicks through a ridiculous Rolodex of first-pet-childhood-address names, then Sapphire-Jasmine-Moonbeam-Cherry—and he sees a framed poster out of the corner of his eye, the Eiffel Tower (what a weird bar), and, smiling without his mouth, he murmurs, “Paris.”
哦?他在用假名字?为什么?多么狡猾。他想要。他想要。如果他不想要的话,他就不会用假名字——如果他不想要,以及匿名性会让他安全,让他可以无后顾之忧地做任何想做的事情,成为另一个人,尝试新事物。太神奇了。Chris。Hyunjin 的手握着 Chan 的手,Chan 期待地看着他,一开始 Hyunjin 不明白为什么,但后来明白了,然后又恐慌起来——他的脑海里飞速浮现出一连串荒谬的名字,比如 Sapphire-Jasmine-Moonbeam-Cherry——他斜眼看到一幅挂在墙上的海报,上面是埃菲尔铁塔(多么奇怪的酒吧),微微笑着,没有张开嘴,他低声说:“巴黎。”

“Paris,” Chan repeats, with a faint knowing grin. “Right. Pleasure to meet you, Paris.”
“巴黎,”Chan 微微带着一丝知情的笑容重复道。“好的。很高兴认识你,巴黎。”

“The pleasure is all mine,” Hyunjin says, and slides their hands down so they’re not shaking but holding, right as the bartender comes over to close out Chan’s tab for him. Hyunjin meets his eye, defiant: you were right about me. He wants to lean on Chan’s shoulder—he wants to curl around him. But he also doesn’t want to scare Chan away, not when he’s getting so close. He watches as Chan tips generously, maybe over-generously, maybe letting Hyunjin know that he has cash to spare? Chan looks up at him, as if testing whether Hyunjin is still there, and Hyunjin smiles at him. “Lead the way,” he says.

Heads turn again as they walk out. Chan does his best to hold the door for Hyunjin, but he’s a little slippy and uncoordinated, so Hyunjin helps him, and beams beatifically when Chan looks back—still checking. So sweet, like he can’t believe his luck. Hyunjin wants to be his guardian angel; he wants to be his secret, his call-for-a-good-time. He slips his arm through Chan’s when they’re walking close enough—again, he can’t believe how forward he’s being, but now that he’s not Hyunjin, now that he’s Paris, can’t he do anything? Paris isn’t shy. Paris isn’t even that lonely. Paris is the cure.
当他们走出去时,人们的头再次转向。Chan 尽力为 Hyunjin 拉开门,但他有点滑稽和不协调,所以 Hyunjin 帮了他一把,并在 Chan 回头看时发出了灿烂的微笑——仍在检查。太甜蜜了,就像他无法相信自己的运气一样。Hyunjin 想成为他的守护天使;他想成为他的秘密,他的寻欢作乐的呼唤。当他们走得足够近时,他把胳膊搭在了 Chan 的胳膊上——再次,他简直无法相信自己变得如此主动,但现在他不是 Hyunjin 了,现在他是 Paris,他难道不能做任何事情吗?Paris 不害羞。Paris 甚至不是那么孤独。Paris 就是解药。

“I think…” Chan exhales against the cooler night air. “Shit. I might need to walk around a bit before I go home. Sober up.”
“我想……” Chan 对着更凉爽的夜晚呼出一口气。“该死。我可能需要在回家之前多走走。清醒一下。”

“Sounds good to me,” Hyunjin says, and now he does snuggle against his side, just slightly. He can’t believe Chan is real. He can’t believe Chan is accepting his help, against all odds. He thinks he might be very happy that he’s getting away with this. “How are you feeling now, Chris?”
“听起来不错,”Hyunjin 说道,现在他确实依偎在他身边,只是稍微靠近了一点。他简直不敢相信 Chris 是真的。他简直不敢相信 Chris 接受了他的帮助,违背了一切可能。他觉得自己可能非常高兴,因为他正在逃脱这一切。“你现在感觉怎么样,Chris?”

Chan takes just a shade too long to answer, and Hyunjin, looking down, sees how pink his cheeks are. Like he’d forgotten he’d given Hyunjin a fake name. “Like I’m in a dream,” Chan says, eventually. He starts walking, and Hyunjin goes with him, holding onto him just in case Chan’s a stumbling drunk. “You sure you’re real?”
Chan 花了一点时间才回答,而看着下方的 Hyunjin 看到他的脸颊有多粉红。就像他忘记了他给 Hyunjin 一个假名字一样。“就像我在梦中一样,”Chan 最终说道。他开始走路,Hyunjin 跟着他,抓住他,以防 Chan 醉醺醺地摔倒。“你确定你是真的吗?”

Hyunjin squeezes his arm. “Positive.”
Hyunjin 紧紧握住他的胳膊。“肯定。”

“If he could see me now,” Chan says, then stops himself, stops walking, too, and laughs. “Nah, I bet he’d just be happy.” Yes, he would, Hyunjin nearly says, but it’s wise that he doesn’t, because then Chan makes a wet noise, starting to walk again, and says, “Even though I’m not happy.”
“如果他现在能看到我,”Chan 说,然后停下来,也停止了走路,笑了起来。“不,我敢打赌他只会高兴。” 是的,他会,Hyunjin 差点说出来,但最好他没有,因为接着 Chan 发出了湿润的声音,重新开始走路,并说:“尽管我并不快乐。”

It’s not just that Hyunjin is getting him talking; it’s that Chan needs to talk. Many men do this, Hyunjin reasons. Pay a hooker just to talk. It’s like therapy. “Because of the breakup?” Hyunjin prompts gently. “Or—in general?”
Hyunjin 认为,不仅仅是因为他让 Chan 开口说话;而是 Chan 需要说话。许多男人都这样,Hyunjin 推断。花钱找个妓女只是为了聊天。这就像心理疗法。“因为分手了吗?”Hyunjin 缓和地促使。“还是——总的来说?”

“God—both, how did you know,” Chan groans. “It’s just hard to be happy, isn’t it? Don’t you think?”

“Sometimes,” Hyunjin says honestly. “It just depends where you’re looking.”

Chan hums, sighs, drags his feet. He chooses to steady himself with a hand covering Hyunjin’s on his arm. It’s a nice touch. “I work hard—I work hard to look. But it’s hard.

Maybe you’re looking in all the wrong places, Hyunjin thinks with a private smile. Maybe you should stop looking, and just let it come to you. “Were you happy with him?” he asks after a moment.
也许你一直在错误的地方寻找,Hyunjin 带着私下的微笑想。也许你应该停止寻找,只是让它来找你。“你和他在一起开心吗?”他过了一会儿问道。

“Fuck,” Chan says, has to stop walking again, and Hyunjin waits patiently. Chan has his eyes closed and he’s taking deep breaths. “I really wanted to be,” he admits, and slowly opens his eyes. “He’s the—the situation is that he’s my best friend and I’m, like, in love with him and probably always will be. He makes me happy—as a person. Like this one time, back in uni, it was the only time I ever skipped class—although I probably should have done it more. Anyway, we skipped class, which was his idea, and we just went to a matinee of the worst musical I’ve ever seen in my life, and even though I couldn’t really relax because I was worried about missing that lecture, he was just so happy the entire time, and it made me happy, too, I forgot about how worried I was. God, that musical was a fucking—it was about, like, taxes—” He stops dead, mid-sentence, because Hyunjin is looking at him with a light, wry smile. Chan blushes, but all Hyunjin can think is how cute he is when he’s all lit up like that, burbling enthusiastically about something he enjoys. “…What was I talking about?”
“靠,”Chan 说,不得不再次停下脚步,而 Hyunjin 耐心等待。Chan 闭上了眼睛,深呼吸着。“我真的想要……”他承认,慢慢睁开眼睛。“他是——情况是他是我最好的朋友,而我,就像,爱上了他,可能会一直爱下去。他让我快乐——作为一个人。就像有一次,在大学时,那是我唯一一次逃课的时候——虽然我可能应该多逃几次。无论如何,我们逃课了,那是他的主意,然后我们去看了我一生中见过的最糟糕的音乐剧的一个下午场,尽管我无法真正放松,因为我担心错过那堂课,但他整个时间都那么开心,让我也感到快乐,我忘记了自己的担忧。天啊,那个音乐剧真是个该死的——是关于,像,税收的——”他突然停下来,因为 Hyunjin 用轻松、讽刺的微笑看着他。Chan 脸红了,但 Hyunjin 想的只是他在全神贯注地谈论自己喜欢的事情时看起来有多可爱。“……我在说什么来着?”

“Whether or not you were happy with your ex,” Hyunjin says, “but it’s okay, you can tell me about the musical, I want to know.”

“The main character… was an accountant,” Chan says. Abruptly, he sniffles. “There were moments when I was so happy that I got to—that I finally got to—tell him or show him. I mean, how I felt, when we were together. But mostly I just got in my own fucking way. Couldn’t even enjoy it properly. Was too worried the whole time.”
“主角…是个会计师,”Chan 说道。突然间,他抽泣了一下。“有些时候我很开心,我能够——我终于能够——告诉他或展示给他。我的感受,当我们在一起的时候。但大部分时间我只是自己给自己制造障碍。甚至无法好好享受。整个时间都太担心了。”

“Worried,” Hyunjin repeats, doing his best to keep up. Chatty drunk was right. “About what?”

“About him dumping me,” Chan says with a miserable grin. “Got quite the gift of prophecy, me.”

The thing is—none of this is new information, strictly. But Hyunjin has to act like it is. The street lights around here are dim, a little yellowed. Chan looks good. Hyunjin wants to say, Could you see me coming? Instead, he gently pets over Chan’s hand. “Why do you think he did it?”
事情是这样的——严格来说,这一切都不是新信息。但 Hyunjin 必须表现得像是新的。这里周围的街灯昏暗,有点泛黄。Chan 看起来不错。Hyunjin 想说,你看到我来了吗?相反,他轻轻地抚摸着 Chan 的手。“你觉得他为什么这样做?”

“Ouch,” Chan says, stumbles a bit, rubs his free hand over his own chest, but does his best to shrug it off. “He told me, actually, I don’t even have to guess. He just—I just friendzoned myself. He said he sees me like family and he wouldn’t want to mess that up. Fair enough. I don’t want to mess that up, either. I don’t blame him for any of it—I can’t.” Long inhale, tight, huffing exhale. “He didn’t want me,” he concludes firmly.
“哎呀,”Chan 说着,有些踉跄,用自由的手在自己的胸前摩挲了一下,但尽力想要摆脱这种感觉。“他告诉我,其实我甚至不用猜。他只是——我只是把自己当成朋友了。他说他把我当家人看待,不想破坏这种关系。说得对。我也不想破坏这种关系。我不怪他任何事——我不能。”他深深吸了口气,紧绷着,喷出一口气。“他不想要我,”他坚定地总结道。

His loss. My gain. He’s crazy. I won’t waste you. “How long were you together?”

Chan snorts, but he does start walking again, slowly. “Not even a month. So pathetic, right? To be this fucked up over something that didn’t even make it a whole month?” Hyunjin makes a soft, nonjudgemental noise. “But it’s complicated. Told you, I’ve been in love with him for years.” He sighs. “Suppose I should start saying I was in love with him, right? I should get over him, right?”
Chan 哼了一声,但他确实开始慢慢地继续走路。“甚至不到一个月。很可悲,对吧?为了一些甚至没有维持一个月的事情而如此痛苦?”Hyunjin 发出了一声轻柔、不带评判的声音。“但事情很复杂。告诉过你,我爱他已经好几年了。”他叹了口气。“我想我应该开始说我曾经爱过他,对吧?我应该忘记他了,对吧?”

“You should do what you want,” Hyunjin says. “What feels right. Does it feel right, to be in love with him?”

Chan doesn’t answer. Hyunjin wouldn’t know what to say, either. He knows it’s not that simple—he also knows what he’s asking, even if Chan doesn’t. Was he right for you? Is he worth all this? Chan, as they pass under one of those gold-glow lights, almost looks as though he’s tearing up. “He’s just good,” Chan says, at the very end of the block. That throaty, wet tone sad drunks sometimes take on. Hyunjin clutches at his arm more tightly. “He’s just so good, such a good and warm and lovely person. Being around him feels right. I should call hi—”
灿没有回答。贤真也不知道该说什么。他知道事情并不那么简单 — 即使灿不知道他在问什么。他对你来说是否合适?他是否值得这一切?当他们走过一个金光灿烂的路灯下时,灿几乎看起来要哭了。“他只是好人,”灿在街区的尽头说道。那种喉咙哽咽、湿润的声音,有时候像伤心的醉汉。“他只是那么好,是个善良、温暖、可爱的人。和他在一起感觉对。我应该打电话给他 —” 贤真更紧紧地抓住他的胳膊。“如果他是好人,那你是坏人吗?”贤真插话道,声音温柔而顺滑,像一条丝绸毯子,将灿从费利克斯那里隔离开来。“不如告诉我关于你自己的事,克里斯。”

“If he’s good, are you bad?” Hyunjin cuts in, smooth and warm like a silk blanket, cocooning Chan away from Felix. “Tell me about yourself instead, Chris.”

Chan stumbles again, both physically and verbally, and half-laughs, his neck going a charming red. “Well, for starters, my name’s actually Chan.”

“Oh!” “哦!”

“Yeah. I mean, Chris is my family name. But I mostly go by Chan.”

“Chan,” Hyunjin repeats, rolling it in his mouth to let it melt. He smiles down at him. Chan is looking up, to Hyunjin’s surprise, and nearly expectant for a moment—like he’s waiting for Hyunjin to tell him his real name, too. Hyunjin can’t. So he doesn’t. He just lets his smile widen, brighten. “So nice to meet you, Chan.”
“灿。”Hyunjin 重复着,让这个名字在口中融化。他微笑着看着他。灿抬头看着他,让 Hyunjin 惊讶,几乎有些期待—就像他在等待 Hyunjin 告诉他自己的真名一样。Hyunjin 不能。所以他没有。他只是让自己的微笑变得更宽,更明亮。“很高兴认识你,灿。”

“You, too.” There’s that self-effacing half-laugh again. “But—what’s there to tell?” Chan says. It sounds like his tongue is heavy. He keeps sighing, as if he’s trying not to be sick. “I haven’t made anything of myself. I’m shit at taking care of people, no matter how hard I try. Told you, Paris—I’m a loser.”

“You’re down on your luck,” Hyunjin disagrees, his tone so gentle. “Trust me. I’ve seen losers, and you are not a loser.”

Chan peeks up, quirks an eyebrow. “Yeah?”

Ah—he must think Hyunjin means other clients. Other johns. Hyunjin doesn’t even know who he actually meant. “Yeah,” Hyunjin says, confiding, conspiratorial, imagining it, and it makes Chan giggle, but in a scandalized way.

They’ve gotten to the end of the block, and Chan squints around a bit, then gestures right. They turn. “It’s not this way, but I’m still… y’know,” he mumbles. “Just a little while longer, if you don’t mind. Sorry.” 

Hyunjin tuts. “No, I don’t mind. You apologize too much.”
Hyunjin 咂舌。“不,我不介意。你道歉得太多了。”

Chan winces, but he’s smiling. “He says that, too.”
Chan 扭曲了一下脸,但他在微笑。“他也这么说。”

“Tell me about yourself,” Hyunjin reminds, tucking away that smile of Chan’s to enjoy later.
“告诉我关于你自己的事情,”Hyunjin 提醒道,将 Chan 的微笑收藏起来,以后慢慢品味。

Chan rolls his eyes dramatically. Funny. “Really, there’s not much to tell. I’m, ah, eldest of three… Born and raised in Sydney, Australia, haven’t been back in ages… I hate my job… It’s all so boring, I don’t know what you—”
Chan 戏剧性地翻了个白眼。有趣。“真的,没什么好说的。我,啊,是三兄弟中的长子……出生在澳大利亚的悉尼,已经很久没回去了……我讨厌我的工作……一切都太无聊了,我不知道你——”

“Australia, wow,” Hyunjin says. “Are your siblings still there?”
“澳大利亚,哇,”Hyunjin 说。“你的兄弟姐妹还在那里吗?”

“Yeah, both of ’em. I keep trying to get them to come visit, but little old me’s not worth the trip, I guess,” Chan says, smiling crookedly. “Nah, only kidding. Lucas is still in school, Hannah works full-time, and I’m really not much of a tour guide.”
“是的,他们两个都在那。我一直试图让他们来访,但看来小老我不值得他们过来,我猜,”Chan 笑着歪着嘴说。“不,开玩笑的。Lucas 还在上学,Hannah 全职工作,我真的不是什么导游。”

Hyunjin nudges Chan lightly. “Hey. You’re showing me around just fine.”
Hyunjin 轻轻推了推 Chan。“嘿。你带我参观得很好。”

Chan cracks up. Hyunjin likes his hoarse, squeaky laugh. “Oh, yeah, so good. Look, this is the—this is the, um. The fire hydrant. And over here we have the graffiti van. Uh, support local artists!”
Chan 笑得前仰后合。Hyunjin 喜欢他嘶哑、尖叫般的笑声。“哦,是的,太棒了。看,这是——这是,嗯。消防栓。然后这边是涂鸦货车。支持本地艺术家!”

“You’re better at things than you think,” Hyunjin whispers—has to lean in to whisper, and he watches the way it makes Chan shiver. “What do you do for fun, Chan?”
“你比你想象的要擅长。”Hyunjin 低声说——不得不凑近耳语,看着这样做让 Chan 打了个寒颤。“你平时喜欢做什么,Chan?”

“I, uh—um.” Chan swallows—he shivers again. Hyunjin is making him nervous. Shit, he’d be making himself nervous, but Paris doesn’t get nervous, Hyunjin thinks. Paris likes this. Having men wrapped around his little finger. He does this all the time. But he’s lucked out tonight, found a special one. “I don’t… know. I mostly just go to work, or stay at home.”

“Why?” 「为什么?」

“I’m boring,” Chan tries to explain, and when Hyunjin just tightens his lips and shakes his head, he laughs nervously. “No—seriously! I’m not used to being by myself. Doing things by—for?—myself.” 

“Why not?” “为什么不呢?”

Paris,” Chan says, and now he’s nearly whining, and Hyunjin thinks maybe he’s taking this whole getting-him-talking thing too far, maybe he should politely apologize and back off, but then, after a deep breath, Chan actually answers, the answer spilling out of his liquor-loose mouth like he was just waiting for it to open wide enough to run free, perfect intoxicated clarity: “It just freaks me out. I don’t—I don’t think there’s anything all that special about myself, and whenever I do something just for myself, it’s like—well, I could have done something for someone else instead, y’know? And the stuff I like is weird and boring, like me. Not much to share. But at least when I’m doing something for someone else, when I’m helping, then there’s a point to me. I always think people only keep me around because I’m useful, but I’m not very—very good at being useful, either. I send a lot of money back home to my mum even though she doesn’t need it and she always sends it back right away. It always annoys Felix—annoyed Felix. He didn’t want me to help him. I just don’t know what else to do. My purpose just isn’t—isn’t myself. I don’t know how to focus on myself. I just want to help. I need to, I think.”
“巴黎,”Chan 说道,现在他几乎有些抱怨,而 Hyunjin 觉得也许他把让他说话的事情搞得太过火了,也许他应该礼貌地道歉并退后一步,但是之后,Chan 深吸一口气,实际上回答了,答案像是从他酒精作用下松弛的嘴唇中涌出来一样,仿佛他一直在等待着它张开足够大以自由流淌,完美的醉酒清晰:“这只是让我感到恐慌。我不——我不认为自己有什么特别之处,每当我为自己做点什么时,就好像——嗯,我本可以为别人做点什么,你懂吗?而且我喜欢的东西又古怪又无聊,就像我一样。没什么可分享的。但至少当我为别人做事情时,当我在帮助别人时,那么我就有存在的意义。我总是觉得人们只是因为我有用才留着我,但我并不是很——很擅长做事。我总是寄很多钱给我妈,尽管她并不需要,她总是立刻把钱寄回来。这总是惹恼 Felix——曾经惹恼 Felix。他不想让我帮忙。我只是不知道还能做什么。我的存在意义并不——并不在于我自己。我不知道如何专注于自己。我只想帮助。” 我觉得我需要这样做。”

This is where it should cross Hyunjin’s mind that he might be crossing a line. Chan is panting now, and he stops walking, winded, leaning down with his hands on his knees like he really is going to be sick. Hyunjin is a stranger, a perfect stranger, a liar, a fraud. But his heart is going out to Chan, a man so selfless that he won’t let himself feel happiness. “I know exactly how you feel,” Hyunjin says softly.
这时候应该会在 Hyunjin 心里闪过一个念头,他可能已经越过了界限。Chan 现在喘着气,停下了脚步,气喘吁吁,弯下腰,双手扶在膝盖上,看起来真的要吐了。Hyunjin 是个陌生人,一个完全陌生的人,一个骗子,一个骗子。但他的心却对 Chan 伸出了援手,一个如此无私以至于不让自己感受幸福的人。“我完全明白你的感受,”Hyunjin 轻声说道。

“Fuck, I’ve never said any of that out loud before,” Chan mutters toward the concrete. He shakes his shaggy head, then lifts it, bloodshot sad eyes beaming need at Hyunjin. “…You do?”
“该死,我以前从来没有把这些说出口过,”Chan 嘟囔着对着水泥地。他摇了摇蓬乱的头发,然后抬起头,一双布满血丝的悲伤眼睛向 Hyunjin 传达着需求。“…你明白吗?”

“Yes, Chan,” Hyunjin says, with a feline smile. “I do.”
“是的,Chan,”Hyunjin 带着猫一般的微笑说道。“我明白。”

Chan swallows. “Tell me? A little? Only if you’re—if you’re comfortable.”

“I like helping, too,” Hyunjin says, and he holds a hand out for Chan, when he’s straightened back up all the way. Chan hesitantly takes it, cold to warm, and they walk, Chan shuffling after him like a lost puppy. “And I don’t feel like I’m myself when I’m alone, either. I’m a very strict perfectionist and my self-perception doesn’t always align with the outside world. Trying to make them match can be very painful. So what I do—this”—he waves his free hand across himself—“is like a release. If I’m doing what someone else wants, what I really am doesn’t matter. I can be anything. It’s the most freeing thing in the world. I love it.” He smiles at Chan lightly.

Chan is staring at him with his jaw dropped again. His eyes look misty. “That’s… wow,” he says, slow, dreamlike. “You are… so smart.”

Hyunjin laughs, tossing his head back for a moment. “Smart for a hooker, you mean?”

Immediately, Chan winces, his hands clumsily fumbling for Hyunjin’s shoulder, beseeching as he emits an embarrassed laugh. “No—no, fuck, I didn’t mean it like—”

“Just teasing you, Chan. It’s okay.”

“Oh.” Chan, blushing, keeps a hand on Hyunjin’s arm, and Hyunjin wants to touch him where his heart is. “I meant—you’re so smart for—turning something sad into something nice. That sounds nice.”

“It’s okay to like things that feel nice,” Hyunjin adds, just as lightly. “If you like helping people, that’s okay. That’s a beautiful thing to like. Just remember that you’re in there, too.”
“喜欢让人感觉舒适的事物是可以的,”Hyunjin 轻描淡写地补充道。“如果你喜欢帮助别人,那也是可以的。喜欢这样美好的事情是可以的。只是记得你也在其中。”

Chan pulls a sad, sour face. “You might have to remind me.”
Chan 拉长了一张悲伤的脸。“也许你得提醒我。”

“I’d love to,” Hyunjin says. Dead serious. “Call me any time, day or night, and I’ll tell you. Or show you.”

“Okay,” Chan breathes. Now, blushing harder, he’s looking down at the ground as they walk, and he nearly stumbles again—Hyunjin has to brace him. “Oh—shoelace.”
“好的,”Chan 喘着气说。现在,他更害羞了,走路时低着头,几乎又绊倒了——Hyunjin 不得不扶住他。“哦——鞋带。”

He starts to bend down, but Hyunjin beats him to it—“I’ll do it,” he says, halting Chan gently, and he moves to get in front of him, kneeling without actually letting his knee touch the ground. He’s more focused on retying Chan’s loose shoelace than he’s been on anything else, he thinks; the loop has to be perfect, the knot true, so it won’t come undone. He’s so concentrated that at first, he barely feels it when an incredibly careful hand lands on his shoulder, but then he feels it, and he looks up at Chan. Chan is looking down at him. His gaze is as careful and reverent as Hyunjin’s fingers are on his shoelaces, and when Hyunjin smiles, gradually, Chan smiles back.
他开始弯腰,但 Hyunjin 先他一步——“我来吧,”他温柔地阻止了 Chan,然后走到他面前,跪下却没有让膝盖着地。他比起其他任何事情,更专注于重新系好 Chan 松开的鞋带;他觉得,这个环必须完美,这个结必须牢固,才不至于松开。他如此专注,以至于一开始几乎没感觉到一个极其小心的手轻轻放在他的肩膀上,但随后他感觉到了,然后抬头看向 Chan。Chan 正看着他。他的目光像 Hyunjin 的手指在他的鞋带上一样小心翼翼和尊敬,当 Hyunjin 逐渐微笑时,Chan 也微笑了。

“You’re really,” Chan says slowly, but cuts himself off to swallow, heavily and visibly, like someone in a cartoon—except it doesn’t play off as a joke—as Hyunjin rises to his feet. He has to keep looking up the more Hyunjin rises. “Really…”
“你真的,” 陈慢慢地说,但他打断了自己,吞咽了一口,沉重而明显,就像卡通片中的某个人物一样——但这并不是一个笑话——当贤辰站起来时。他不得不越来越多地仰视贤辰。“真的……”

“Really what?” Hyunjin prompts.

“Really good at… that.” “真的很擅长……那个。”

“Tying shoelaces?” “系鞋带?”

Chan shakes his head, and his blush seems here to stay. “At making… at looking… ah, shit, Paris, I forgot.”
Chan 摇了摇头,脸红似乎留了下来。“在做…在看…啊,该死,Paris,我忘了。”

Hyunjin somehow doubts that he forgot, but he won’t press him on it. Gently, he slips his arm through Chan’s so they can keep walking, quiet. It’s easy to keep breaking the touch barrier. This is right—this is exactly what Chan needs. They’re so alike; Hyunjin had no idea how alike they’d be. Chan drops his head against Hyunjin’s shoulder. It’s heavy—his mind seems like a heavy burden to him.
Hyunjin 不知何故怀疑他是不是真的忘了,但他不会追问。他温柔地伸手穿过 Chan 的胳膊,让他们继续走路,保持安静。打破触碰的界限变得很容易。这是对的—这正是 Chan 需要的。他们如此相似;Hyunjin 不知道他们会有多相似。Chan 把头靠在 Hyunjin 的肩膀上。这很沉重—他的思绪对他来说像个沉重的负担。

“I’ve never met anyone like you before,” Chan says quietly.
“我以前从未遇到过像你这样的人,”Chan 轻声说道。

He could mean anything: someone this beautiful, a gigolo, an easy confidante. In a way, it doesn’t matter, even though of course Hyunjin wants him to clarify. He has to play it cool, though; he must hear that all the time. “Likewise,” he says, with a flash of a smile, and Chan immediately starts rolling his eyes. “No, I mean it! You really wear your heart on your sleeve. It’s admirable.”

“Admirable,” Chan snorts, and wriggles his arm free of Hyunjin’s hold so he can start pushing his shirtsleeves up to his elbows. That makes Hyunjin burst into elegant giggles, and Chan likes that, likes that he just made this pretty, frosty, expensive performer laugh, and laughs, too. He keeps glancing up at Hyunjin to check that he’s still smiling, so Hyunjin keeps smiling, to give him something to keep looking at. And look Chan does; his eyes flicker from Hyunjin’s face to the skin exposed at his chest, back up to his lips, back down to his narrow waist, and around again in circles. “Sorry,” Chan says, dreamy, nearly slurring again. “I’m staring.”
“钦佩?”Chan 嗤之以鼻,挣脱了 Hyunjin 的手臂,开始把衬衫袖子卷到肘部。这让 Hyunjin 开心地笑了起来,而 Chan 喜欢这一点,喜欢自己让这位漂亮、冷艳、昂贵的表演者笑了,于是他也笑了。他不停地抬头看 Hyunjin,确保他还在微笑,于是 Hyunjin 保持微笑,给他一个可以一直看的东西。Chan 的目光从 Hyunjin 的脸上闪烁到露出的胸部皮肤,再回到他的嘴唇,然后移到他纤细的腰部,然后又转回来。 “抱歉,”Chan 说着,梦幻般地,几乎又开始说不清楚了。“我在盯着你看。”

Hyunjin shakes his head, quiet and respectful. “You can stare. That’s free, too.”
Hyunjin 摇了摇头,安静而尊重地说:“你可以盯着看。这也是免费的。”

Chan laughs, and returns his arm to Hyunjin’s grip. “That’s free,” he repeats. His smile fades; he looks like he’s thinking hard, but like the thoughts keep slipping away. His face is an open book to match the heart on his sleeve. He reads aloud: “Then what’s… like, what do people… what exactly…”
Chan 笑了笑,把胳膊还给了 Hyunjin 的手。 “那是免费的,”他重复道。他的微笑渐渐消失;他看起来在认真思考,但想法似乎总是溜走。他的脸上毫无掩饰,就像他心口的那颗心。他大声朗读:“那么是什么… 像,人们… 究竟是什么…”

“What do I get paid to do?” Hyunjin guesses.
“我得到什么报酬?”Hyunjin 猜测道。

“Yeah,” Chan says, blushing. “Is that—is that okay to ask? Like I said, I’ve never met anyone like you before.”
“是的,”Chan 说着,脸红了。“问这个…可以吗?就像我说的,我以前从未遇到过像你这样的人。”

Ah, so he did mean an escort. Hyunjin tries not to be disappointed. “Whatever you want,” he says, buying himself time. It might be better, actually, to frame this in terms of hypotheticals for Chan, rather than making up a list of past services he’s performed for past clients. He starts small, easy. “Attend events, be they business, pleasure, or personal—family reunions and such. Accompany you on trips. Share meals. Have long conversations about anything at all.” He smiles down at Chan, who’s still blushing, but also reluctantly starting to smile. Time to kick it up a notch. “Wear what you like, talk how you like, act how you like, be your type, be something new. Be a wet dream come true. Sexually, I’m very receptive and flexible. I prefer to bottom, of course, but I’ve been known to top if the mood is right—”

“Okay, okay, okay, okay,” Chan says, blushing so hard he can barely walk. “That’s—okay. Yeah. Cool. I was just asking.”

“Providing companionship,” Hyunjin sums up, smiling wider. He lightly touches Chan’s hand, and watches Chan flinch. “Which can mean all manner of things. Everyone has different needs.”
「提供陪伴,」Hyunjin 总结道,微笑更加灿烂。他轻轻触碰了 Chan 的手,看着 Chan 畏缩了一下。「这可以意味着各种各样的事情。每个人的需求都不同。」

“You must have the patience of a saint,” Chan says. “Putting up with weirdos and their weird needs.”
「你一定有耐心像圣人一样,」Chan 说道。「忍受着怪人和他们奇怪的需求。」

Hyunjin shakes his head. This is important; he remembers acutely everything Felix had said about how cagey Chan is about having wants, needs, and desires. Like it’s his fault he exists, like he’s a criminal for wanting something. “Nobody’s needs are weird,” Hyunjin says carefully. “They’re just needs. We all have them. And like I told you, I like helping people.” He thinks about it for a further second, because Chan still seems troubled, and adds, “I also like money.”
Hyunjin 摇了摇头。这很重要;他清楚地记得 Felix 说过的关于 Chan 对于自己的需求、想法和欲望保持谨慎的一切。就好像他存在就是错的,就好像他因为想要某些东西就是罪犯一样。“没有人的需求是奇怪的,”Hyunjin 小心翼翼地说。“它们只是需求。我们都有。就像我告诉过你的,我喜欢帮助别人。”他再想了一秒,因为 Chan 似乎仍然困扰不安,又补充道:“我也喜欢钱。”

It makes Chan laugh. He looks relieved. “And you—you’re safe? You’re not in any… danger, or anything?”
Chan 笑了。他看起来松了口气。“你——你安全吗?你没有……遇到危险,或者其他什么吧?”

Hyunjin likes this world Chan is dreaming up around him. One where Hyunjin—Paris—is a helpless, tragic figure, like Fantine in Les Mis, at the mercy of a cruel, greedy pimp. Along comes Chan to save him. Hyunjin’s such a sucker for shining armor. “Don’t worry about me,” he tells him with a gentle, mysterious smile. “I love what I do. I’m doing what I want, when I want it. I’m my own boss. And I get to meet all kinds of interesting people, like you.”
Hyunjin 喜欢 Chan 在他周围构想的这个世界。在这个世界里,Hyunjin——巴黎——是一个无助、悲惨的人物,就像《悲惨世界》中的芳汀,完全受制于一个残忍、贪婪的皮条客。然后 Chan 出现拯救他。Hyunjin 对闪亮的盔甲情有独钟。“不用担心我,”他用温和、神秘的微笑告诉他。“我喜欢我所做的事。我想做什么就做什么。我是自己的老板。而且我可以遇见各种有趣的人,比如你。”

Chan huffs very softly. “Shit, it sounds like you’re way better off than me.”
Chan 轻轻地哼了一声。“该死,听起来你比我过得好多了。”

“Should I worry about you, then?” Hyunjin says, also very softly.

“Ah,” Chan says, suddenly startled, red to the tips of his ears. “No, I’m fine!”

“I think I will,” Hyunjin says. “I think I already do.”

“Oh, Paris,” Chan manages, but no words come after that. Hyunjin waits. Chan is squirming, uncomfortable, blushing still, and Hyunjin looks at the fire hydrant, the graffiti van—they’ve walked in a circle. Chan has been leading them in circles. Hoping to draw their time out together, maybe? Or maybe he’s just too drunk, he hasn’t noticed. Even if, when they get to Chan’s place, Chan invites him up, Hyunjin can’t expect sex—he’s probably too drunk, still. Hyunjin would want him to remember it all. To be so himself. Chan even stops walking, and Hyunjin does, too, worried he’s actually broken him this time, but Chan, pink-cheeked and rumpled, not making eye contact, but looking a little less miserable than he had when Hyunjin had first approached him, pats down his pockets and pulls out a jingling set of keys. “This is, um, me.”
“哦,巴黎,”Chan 勉强说道,但接下来没有别的话了。Hyunjin 等待着。Chan 挣扎着,感到不舒服,脸还在发红,而 Hyunjin 看着消防栓,涂鸦的货车——他们走了一个圈。Chan 一直在带他们绕圈子走。也许是希望拉长他们在一起的时间?或者他只是太喝醉了,根本没注意到。即使当他们到达 Chan 的住处时,Chan 邀请他上去,Hyunjin 也不指望有性行为——他可能还太喝醉了。Hyunjin 希望他能记住一切。保持真实。Chan 甚至停下了脚步,Hyunjin 也跟着停下,担心这次他真的把他弄垮了,但 Chan,脸颊泛红,衣衫不整,没有直视眼神,但看起来比刚开始接近他时好多了,摸索着口袋,掏出一串叮当作响的钥匙。“这个,嗯,是我。”

Fuck. They must have walked past it five or six times. Was Chan just trying to get up the courage to invite Hyunjin inside? Hyunjin cocks his head, looks up at the dark building. “Which one’s yours?”
该死。他们肯定绕过了五六次。Chan 只是在试图鼓起勇气邀请 Hyunjin 进去吗?Hyunjin 歪着头,抬头看着黑暗的建筑。“哪个是你的?”

“Third from the top,” Chan says, moving to stand by his side so he can point. “That one… those windows. My room.”
“最上面的第三个,” 昌说着,走到他身边指着说。“那个…那些窗户。我的房间。”

“It must have a nice view,” Hyunjin says pensively.
“应该有个不错的景色,” 火箭说着,若有所思。

Chan covers his face with his hands—he drops his keys without even thinking about it, like he’s so drunk he’s lost his sense of object permanence. Before he can even start leaning down to grab them, Hyunjin’s looped a finger through the main ring and is in Chan’s personal space, his other hand drifting to hold him at his elbow. Chan peeks through his fingers and Hyunjin hears his muffled gasp. “Paris,” Chan says, hands slowly lowering. “I—”
Chan 用手捂住脸——他甚至没有考虑就把钥匙掉在了地上,就像他喝醉了一样失去了物体恒常的感觉。还没等他弯腰去捡起来,Hyunjin 已经用手指穿过主钥匙环,进入了 Chan 的个人空间,另一只手漫不经心地搭在他的肘部。Chan 透过手指偷偷看了一眼,Hyunjin 听到了他闷闷的喘息声。“巴黎,”Chan 说着,慢慢放下了手。“我——”

“You said not tonight, Chan, I haven’t forgotten,” Hyunjin says, quiet. “Do you think you can make it upstairs by yourself?”
“你说过今晚不行,Chan,我没有忘记,”Hyunjin 轻声说。“你觉得你能自己爬楼梯吗?”

Chan mutely nods. Staring, like he had the first moment he’d seen Hyunjin. Blindly trusting. Waiting for Hyunjin to say the perfect thing, the thing that’s going to make it all better, as only Hyunjin can do. The thing that’s going to make Chan see that he can’t live without Hyunjin.

Hyunjin has to be very careful. This is such a precious tightrope to walk. Luckily, Hyunjin’s been working on his balance, and he has the bruises to show for it. “You’ve been through a lot,” he murmurs. Chan shudders, almost swaying with it, so Hyunjin holds his elbow tighter. He presses the keys into Chan’s palm. “You need rest. You’ve earned the right to feel good.”
Hyunjin 必须非常小心。这是一条非常珍贵的钢丝绳。幸运的是,Hyunjin 一直在练习自己的平衡,他身上有伤痕可以证明。“你经历了很多事情,”他低声说道。Chan 打了个寒颤,几乎跟着摇晃,所以 Hyunjin 更紧地抓住他的手肘。他把钥匙塞进了 Chan 的手掌。“你需要休息。你应该享受好的感觉。”

Intentionally so ambiguous. Hyunjin watches the different meanings swimming across Chan’s face, and finally, Chan’s fingers close around the keys. “I remembered what I was going to say earlier,” Chan says. “You’re really good at that—making me feel like someone worth your interest. Like someone you—someone you want.”
故意保持模棱两可。Hyunjin 看着 Chan 脸上游移的不同含义,最后,Chan 的手指闭紧了钥匙。“我记得我刚才想说的话了,”Chan 说。“你真的很擅长这个——让我觉得自己是值得你关注的人。像是你想要的某个人。”

This is it. Hyunjin licks his lips so they’ll shine, takes a breath so he’ll be breathless. He steps even further forward, he takes Chan by the hands and squeezes, he leans in to press his forehead down against Chan’s. “That was nothing,” he vows, low, a little fevered. Chan has stopped swaying—he’s gone still, hardly breathing, too, as Hyunjin casts his spell. “Just think about it. I can make you feel so wanted. I can make you feel so treasured. I can make you feel so needed.”

“Paris,” Chan breathes, trembling.

“I want to see you again,” Hyunjin says. He closes his eyes. “Or I’ll really worry about you, Chan.”

Chan makes a hysterical, choked noise. He’s so clearly not used to this; it hurts Hyunjin to think about. Nobody’s ever paid Chan this much undivided attention—not even Felix. Nobody’s ever been this honest with him, and Chan thinks Hyunjin is lying, for money. “I don’t want you to worry,” Chan mumbles.
Chan 发出了一声歇斯底里的、被哽咽的声音。他显然不习惯这种情况;想到这一点让 Hyunjin 感到痛心。从来没有人像现在这样全神贯注地关注过 Chan——甚至连 Felix 也没有。从来没有人对他如此坦诚,而 Chan 却认为 Hyunjin 在撒谎,为了钱。“我不想让你担心,”Chan 嘟囔道。

“Then don’t give me a reason to,” Hyunjin replies. He pulls away, opens his eyes, tugs beseechingly at Chan’s hands. “Will you call me tomorrow and let me know how you’re doing?”
“那就别给我理由去担心,”Hyunjin 回答道。他挣脱开,睁开眼睛,恳求地拉着 Chan 的手。“明天会给我打电话告诉我你的近况吗?”

“Okay—okay,” Chan says, shaken, like he’s surprised at the words coming out of his own mouth. “Yeah, okay, I will.”
“好的——好的,”Chan 颤抖着说道,仿佛他自己都惊讶于自己说出的话。“是的,好的,我会的。”

“Promise?” “答应我?”

“I promise.” “我答应。”

“Call me,” Hyunjin repeats needlessly, softly, intensely insistent. “Call me and we can set a date.”
“给我打电话,”贤真不厌其烦地重复着,声音柔和而坚定。 “给我打电话,我们就可以约个时间。”

“Okay—a date?” Chan swallows; he nods. “To—to—see me again.”

“Only if you want,” Hyunjin says. Only if you want me. “It’s all about what you want.”

Chan is easing his hand out of Hyunjin’s hold and he’s getting out his phone. Squinting at the screen, he unlocks it, and passes it over to Hyunjin with the keypad open for his number. “When I figure out what that is,” Chan says, “you’ll be the first to know.”
Chan 正慢慢地从 Hyunjin 的手中抽出自己的手,然后拿出手机。他眯着眼看着屏幕,解锁手机,然后把手机递给 Hyunjin,键盘已经打开,准备输入电话号码。“等我搞清楚是什么东西,”Chan 说,“你会第一个知道的。”

Victory. Success. Triumph. Hyunjin’s really not breathing now. He types in his number, saves himself as just Paris, gives his own number a quick dial just so he’ll have Chan’s contact, too, just in case Chan takes too long. He hopes his hands aren’t shaking too visibly as he passes the phone back over. He keeps his expression soft, longing, understanding. “Good night,” Hyunjin says. He wants to kiss Chan so fucking bad. “Don’t be too lonely.”
胜利。成功。凯旋。现在 Hyunjin 真的停止呼吸了。他输入自己的号码,将自己保存为巴黎,快速拨打自己的号码,这样他也会有 Chan 的联系方式,以防 Chan 花费太长时间。他希望自己的手不会颤抖得太明显,当他把手机递了回去。他保持着柔和、渴望、理解的表情。“晚安,”Hyunjin 说。他非常想亲吻 Chan。“不要太孤单。”

“You, too,” Chan says. The sweetness of his sleepy eyes, as he blinks. Still looking at Hyunjin like he can’t believe it. His skin in the dim gold streetlighting, also gold. He presses the phone against his chest, unfolds his hand so Hyunjin sees the imprint the keys left in his palm, and he goes—keys, door, clattering stairs inside—he’s gone. He has a great ass and a very broken heart. Hyunjin would, in all sincerity, do anything for him.
“你也是,”Chan 说。他打着瞌睡的甜蜜眼睛,眨巴着。仍然看着 Hyunjin,仿佛不敢相信。在昏暗的金色街灯下,他的皮肤也金黄。他将手机按在胸前,展开手掌让 Hyunjin 看到键盘在他手掌上留下的印记,然后他走了——拿着钥匙,开门,楼梯里发出咔哒声——他走了。他有一张迷人的屁股和一颗破碎的心。Hyunjin 真诚地愿意为他做任何事情。

For now, Hyunjin goes home. He’s silent in the Uber. He’s silent in his bedroom. He can’t tell Felix—he can’t tell anyone—he can’t even think. All he can do is sit by the phone, quivering.
现在,贤真回家了。他在 Uber 上保持沉默。他在卧室里保持沉默。他不能告诉 Felix——他不能告诉任何人——他甚至不能思考。他所能做的就是坐在电话旁,颤抖着。




Chan calls six hours later.

Chapter End Notes 章节结束备注

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act ii 第二幕

Chapter Summary 章节摘要

I can feel it in the way you hold me

I know you’re lonely, too

—“Slowly,” Susanne Sundfør

Chapter Notes 章节注释

thank you very much for the overwhelmingly enthusiastic response to chapter 1!!! i live to surprise and please

chapter once again contains plenty of offensive language/stereotypes about sex work

Hyunjin watches Pretty Woman five times in a row, taking diligent notes. It’s a Saturday, and he has nothing better to do—what could be better? As he watches, he waxes his legs, his underarms, he dyes his already-black eyelashes blacker. All the things he normally does on a Saturday to maintain his perfection for the stage, but now imbued and endowed with so much special, sexy purpose.
Hyunjin 连续观看《风月俏佳人》五次,认真做笔记。这是一个星期六,他没有更好的事情可做——还有什么比这更好的呢?当他观看时,他蜡腿、蜡腋下,给已经黑色的睫毛染上更黑的颜色。所有这些他通常在星期六为了舞台上的完美而做的事情,但现在注入了如此特别、性感的目的。

It’s a Saturday, no practice again until tomorrow, and he’s glad for it—he couldn’t bear to face Felix again so soon. He has no idea what he’ll say to him. How is he even going to get through the next six days?
今天是星期六,明天再次练习,他为此感到高兴——他无法忍受再次那么快地面对 Felix。他不知道自己会对他说什么。他又如何度过接下来的六天呢?

Six days. He and Chan are seeing each other again on another Friday, next Friday. The call had been brief; they’d gotten to the point. When saying hello, Chan had sounded hoarse, but clear—hungover, but like it had been the first thing on his mind when he’d woken up. He’d asked if this was really Paris—sweet. Get us a hotel room, Hyunjin had said, instead of yes. Tell me when and where.
六天。他和灿再次在下一个星期五见面。通话很短暂;他们直截了当。在打招呼时,灿的声音沙哑但清晰——宿醉了,但好像是他醒来时的第一件事。他问这真的是巴黎吗——甜蜜。给我们订个酒店房间,Hyunjin 说,而不是说是。告诉我时间和地点。

He’d half-expected Chan to push back, to ask to meet for lunch or coffee instead, somewhere public, during the day—Hyunjin, emotionally bleeding profusely and unable to take that much time off from rehearsals, would have had to demur—but Chan had just said, Okay. How about the Hilton? Next Friday, 8 o’clock?
他半期待着灿反对,要求见面吃午餐或喝咖啡,选择在公共场所,在白天——Hyunjin 情感上大出血,无法从排练中抽出那么多时间,他本来会推辞的——但灿只是说,好的。希尔顿怎么样?下个星期五,8 点?

Beautiful, baby, Hyunjin had said, not recognizing his own voice. I’ll meet you. I’ll be waiting.

Good, Chan had said. There had been a brief pause—to catch his breath? To lick his lips? He’d said, Thank you. He’d hung up. Two minutes later, a text followed—an invitation to join his reservation at the Hilton downtown, under the name Ryan Reynolds.
好的,Chan 说过。有一个短暂的停顿——是为了喘口气吗?舔一下嘴唇吗?他说,谢谢。他挂断了电话。两分钟后,一条短信跟着到来——邀请加入他在希尔顿市中心的预订,以 Ryan Reynolds 的名义。

“Dork,” Hyunjin had murmured to himself, smiling so hard his face hurt. Maybe Felix had had a point after all.

Pretty Woman is an amazing fucking movie. Hyunjin learns so much. He writes down his rules as follows:
《风月俏佳人》是一部令人惊叹的电影。Hyunjin 学到了很多。他将自己的规则写下如下:

- Payment is to be cash-only, provided at the start of the rendezvous
- 付款仅限现金,需在约会开始时提供

- Accommodations are to be provided and paid for by the client
- 住宿由客户提供和支付

- Any food/beverages consumed during the rendezvous are to be provided and paid for by the client
- 约会期间消费的任何食物/饮料由客户提供和支付

- Any special outfits, accessories, or toys are to be provided and paid for by the client
- 所有特殊服装、配饰或玩具均由客户提供和支付费用

- Any sex act within reason is permissible except for those that would leave marks
- 任何合理的性行为都是允许的,除了会留下痕迹的行为

- Minimum one rendezvous a month to maintain client status
- 每月至少一次约会以保持客户身份

And, crucially, in Julia Roberts’ honor:

- No kissing on the mouth
- 不准亲吻嘴唇

(He can’t wait to break all of them.)

His backstory: nothing too tragic. He needed a way to pay for art school. His first john had been one of his professors, and he’d practically been Hyunjin’s sugar daddy—it had been a very pleasant arrangement, much more Lana Del Rey “Off To The Races” than Satine from Moulin Rouge. Nobody’s ever hurt him. Nobody’s ever hit him. If he says down, they go down. It’s not how he pays his rent anymore, but it is how he pays for his paint. All his clients are handsome, but none as handsome as Chan.
他的背景故事并不太悲惨。他需要一种方式来支付艺术学校的费用。他的第一个客人是他的教授之一,几乎可以说是 Hyunjin 的包养人 — 这是一种非常愉快的安排,更像是 Lana Del Rey 的《Off To The Races》而不是《红磨坊》中的 Satine。没有人伤害过他。没有人打过他。如果他说坐下,他们就坐下。这不再是他支付房租的方式,但却是他支付颜料的方式。他的所有客户都很英俊,但没有一个比 Chan 更英俊。

He books an urgent manicure for Thursday, late. He splurges on the expensive hair stuff, sun-in to keep him gleaming. He considers calling Hyuna and telling her everything, but honestly, there’s not that much to tell yet, and it’s also too complicated to explain; he’d rather wait until he has plenty to dish about and it’ll all have been worth it. He loops the scene where Julia Roberts’ Viv returns to the fancy Rodeo Drive boutique all dolled up and impeccable, practically spitting in the faces of everyone who’d ever doubted her, and squirms around, bitterly envious of her confidence.
他预约了周四晚上的紧急美甲。他挥霍了钱买了昂贵的护发产品,太阳神,让他闪闪发光。他考虑打电话给 Hyuna,把一切都告诉她,但老实说,目前还没有太多可以告诉的,而且也太复杂了解释;他宁愿等到有足够多的八卦可以分享,那时一切都会变得值得。他反复看着《朱莉娅·罗伯茨》的 Viv 回到高级的 Rodeo Drive 精品店时打扮得整整齐齐,几乎在对每个曾经怀疑过她的人的脸上吐口水,他扭动身体,对她的自信心感到痛苦地羡慕。

He just hopes he isn’t the one making the proverbial big mistake—huge.




Seeing Felix bright and early Sunday morning has Hyunjin’s stomach in knots; he regrets skipping breakfast, but he’d be even queasier otherwise. Nice big fake smile for Felix, and he just gets a little wave in return—fuck. Hyunjin quickly snaps his attention down and pretends to be very busy with the buttons of his legwarmers. He straightens to the pitter-patter of Felix’s approach, and there he is, face covered with a yawn. Hyunjin is seriously going to hurl. What if Chan told Felix everything?
周日一大早见到 Felix 让 Hyunjin 的胃颤抖不已;他后悔没吃早餐,但要是不这样的话他会更难受。对着 Felix 露出灿烂的假笑,只换来了一个小小的挥手—该死。Hyunjin 迅速把注意力转向腿套的纽扣,假装非常忙碌。他听到 Felix 走过来的脚步声,于是站直了身子,看到他的脸上挂着一个哈欠。Hyunjin 感觉自己快要吐了。如果 Chan 告诉 Felix 一切会怎么样呢?

What if Chan didn’t tell Felix anything?
如果 Chan 什么都没告诉 Felix 会怎样?

“Good morning,” Felix says. There’s the sudden fragile warmth of him, like getting sidled up to by a wild bunny. “You ready?”
“早安,”Felix 说。他身上有一种突然而脆弱的温暖,就像被一只野兔悄悄靠近。“你准备好了吗?”

“Yep,” Hyunjin says faintly, and they ascend together. Felix isn’t saying anything—sleepy, or angry?—so Hyunjin, nervous, attempts, “How was your off day?”
“好的,”Hyunjin 轻声说道,他们一起上升。Felix 什么都没说——是困了,还是生气了?——所以 Hyunjin,紧张地尝试着问:“你的休息日过得怎么样?”

“Mmm, same old, same old,” Felix says. “I got a massage.” From anyone else, all this would be fine, perfectly cordial, but Felix should be effusive, bubbling over, almost uncontainable, and instead, he’s the bare minimum. Hyunjin risks a look his way: he’s not just sleepy, he’s ruminative. Uh-fucking-oh. Just as they hit the final stair to the studio level, Felix says, “Can I talk to you about Chan?”
“嗯,一切如常,没什么特别的,”Felix 说道。“我去按摩了。”从其他人口中说出这番话,一切都会很好,非常友好,但 Felix 应该是热情洋溢、兴高采烈,几乎无法控制自己,但他只是做了最基本的。Hyunjin 冒险看了他一眼:他不仅仅是困倦,还在思考。糟糕。就在他们踏上通往工作室楼层的最后一级台阶时,Felix 说道:“我能和你谈谈关于 Chan 的事吗?”

Hyunjin nearly slips, nearly falters, nearly lets himself tumble backwards down the stairs and break and not get up. Instead, he grabs for the railing tighter. Almost stubborn. He talked his way into this; he can talk his way back out. He’s barely even disappointed that Chan snitched. “Felix,” he starts, coloring pink. “I—”
Hyunjin 差点滑倒,差点摔倒,差点让自己倒退下楼梯摔断腿再也站不起来。相反,他更紧紧抓住扶手。几乎固执。他说服自己进来了;他可以说服自己走出去。他甚至几乎不失望 Chan 告状了。“Felix,”他开始,脸颊泛起粉红。“我—

“No—don’t! I owe you the biggest apology ever,” Felix says, so firmly, so seriously, that it’s almost funny, coming from his tiny little body and porcelain little face. “I don’t know if you went to check on him, and I don’t want you to tell me. It was so wrong of me to even ask you to do that in the first place, both with regard to you and with regard to Chan. I don’t know what I was thinking!”
“不—别这样!我欠你一个最大的道歉,”Felix 说道,语气坚定、认真,几乎有些好笑,尤其是从他那娇小的身躯和瓷娃娃般的脸上说出来。“我不知道你是否去看他了,也不想让你告诉我。我甚至要求你这样做本身就是错的,无论是对你还是对 Chan。我不知道当时我在想什么!”

“Oh,” Hyunjin says, trying to keep the goggling to a minimum. He’s so relieved it’s making him feel faint. His knees are swimming. He has to stay poised: he can hear Svetlana Dmitrievna in his head, hissing don’t move a facking muscle. “Felix, it’s okay, I told you—”
“哦,”Hyunjin 说着,努力保持着不要瞪大眼睛的样子。他如此宽慰,以至于让他感到有些昏眩。他必须保持镇定:他可以听到脑海中的斯维特拉娜·德米特里耶夫娜的声音,嘶嘶地说着不要动一根 facking 肌肉。“Felix,没事的,我告诉过你了—”

“I know, I know, anything I need, but that doesn’t mean I should actually take you up on that,” Felix huffs, shaking his head. Hyunjin knows it’s wrong to find his frustration cute—he can’t help it, though, any more than Felix can help being so cute when he’s frustrated. It’s funny; now that Hyunjin has seen Chan, any sense of competition against Felix has simultaneously vanished and yet heightened a thousandfold. Felix is at once completely harmless and instantaneously lethal—Schrödinger’s romantic rival. Hyunjin wishes he could put Felix in a windowless box. Then none of this would be a problem anymore. He tunes back in, quickly: Felix has been talking, saying, “It’s too much meddling, when the whole goal should be for me and Chan to get some space. So I basically think that it’s completely your call if you want to check up on Chan, but please don’t tell me about it if you do? I definitely need space from him—from dating him, I mean. And he should be able to have his privacy, too, y’know? I’m seriously so sorry for asking you to do that. Can you ever forgive me?”
“我知道,我知道,我需要的任何东西,但这并不意味着我应该真的接受你的帮助,” Felix 喘着气,摇着头。Hyunjin 知道觉得他的沮丧可爱是不对的——但他控制不住,就像 Felix 在沮丧时那样可爱一样。有趣的是;现在 Hyunjin 已经见过 Chan,对 Felix 的任何竞争感觉同时消失了,却又千倍增强。Felix 既完全无害又瞬间致命——薛定谔的情敌。Hyunjin 希望能把 Felix 关在一个没有窗户的盒子里。那样这一切问题就都解决了。他迅速地重新专注:Felix 一直在说,“干涉太多了,整个目标应该是让我和 Chan 有些空间。所以我基本上认为,如果你想查看 Chan,完全取决于你,但如果你这样做了,请不要告诉我,好吗?我绝对需要和他保持距离——我是说,和他约会。他也应该有自己的隐私,你知道吗?我真的很抱歉让你这样做。你能原谅我吗?”

Hyunjin stares at him, baffled. Did Chan tell him everything? Did he describe Paris, show Felix the contact in his phone as proof, and Felix put two and two together? It’s uncanny—how much this sounds like a blessing. All Hyunjin can do is pull Felix in for a tight hug. “Felix, sweetie,” he murmurs, squeezing him so Felix’s sharp chin will dig into Hyunjin’s collarbone and remind him this isn’t a dream, “don’t even worry about it. You just want what’s best for everyone.”
Hyunjin 盯着他,感到困惑。Chan 告诉他一切了吗?他描述了巴黎,向 Felix 展示了手机里的联系方式作为证据,Felix 把一切联系在一起了吗?这太神奇了——这听起来像是一种祝福。Hyunjin 能做的就是紧紧地拥抱 Felix。“Felix,亲爱的,”他低声说道,紧紧地搂着他,让 Felix 尖锐的下巴刺进 Hyunjin 的锁骨,提醒他这不是梦,“不要担心。你只是想让每个人都过得更好。”

Felix exhales shakily, nuzzling Hyunjin’s shoulder. “I knew you’d understand.”
Felix 颤抖地呼出一口气,把头埋在 Hyunjin 的肩膀上。“我知道你会理解的。”

Hyunjin’s eyes are open like he’s seeing through time. He can’t believe it; his luck has changed. This is his chance, his role of a lifetime. He can’t fuck it up.
Hyunjin 的眼睛睁得大大的,仿佛能看穿时间。他简直不敢相信;他的运气已经改变了。这是他的机会,他一生中的角色。他不能搞砸了。




The days drag. He doesn’t hear from Chan, because that isn’t how it works for people like him. Maybe you can text me anytime should be one of Paris’s rules. In rehearsal, each time Hyunjin endures a disproportionate, unreasonable critique or pushes himself farther in an extension even though it hurts, he’s doing it all for Chan—he’s making himself better for Chan. He’s been doing his homework; he’s learned that in the 1800s, nearly every ballerina at the Paris Opéra had been a prostitute. He’s reviving history, he’s honoring his predecessors. They’d be proud of him, he thinks. He has to make them proud. And things with Felix are great. Felix is selected to have sixteen whole bars of solo while Hyunjin is relegated to the far back left corner and Svetlana Dmitrievna calls him the laziest dancer in the company. For once, Hyunjin isn’t even upset. His chance is coming. His star turn. On a much smaller, much more private, much more cosmically significant stage. He catches Felix’s eye in the mirror, and the smile he sends him is so beautiful that he scares himself with his own potential.
日子拖得很长。他没有收到 Chan 的消息,因为对于像他这样的人来说,事情并不是这样运作的。也许你随时都可以给我发短信应该是巴黎的一条规则。在排练中,每当 Hyunjin 忍受不成比例的、不合理的批评,或者在延伸动作中推动自己更远,即使会受伤,他都是为了 Chan——他正在让自己变得更好,为了 Chan。他一直在做功课;他了解到在 19 世纪,几乎每位在巴黎歌剧院的芭蕾舞女都曾是妓女。他正在重现历史,他在尊重前辈。他想他们会为他感到骄傲。他必须让他们感到骄傲。而与 Felix 的关系很好。Felix 被选中独自演奏整整十六小节,而 Hyunjin 被降级到远处左后角,斯维特兰娜·迪米特里耶夫娜称他为公司里最懒惰的舞者。这一次,Hyunjin 甚至都不生气。他的机会即将到来。他的星光时刻。在一个更小、更私密、更具宇宙意义的舞台上。他在镜子里看到 Felix 的眼神,他送给他的微笑是如此美丽,以至于他吓到了自己的潜力。




On Thursday, after a brutal day of rehearsal, feet bleeding, bruises everywhere, shivering uncontrollably in an ice bath, Hyunjin is doing his own nails and he can’t take it anymore, so he texts Chan first.
周四,在一天残酷的排练后,脚流血,遍体鳞伤,在冰水浴中颤抖不已,Hyunjin 正在给自己涂指甲,他再也忍不住了,于是先发短信给 Chan。

what do you want me to wear?

Chan texts back almost immediately, and Hyunjin lets out an undignified, stabbed gasp as he scrambles to pick up the phone he’d just dropped into the frigid water. (He’d knocked over his nail files, too; less important.) He’s so excited that his vision nearly blurs, and he blinks very firmly to focus on the tiny text.
Chan 几乎立刻回了短信,Hyunjin 发出一声不像话的尖叫,他手忙脚乱地捡起刚刚掉进冰冷水中的手机。(他还撞倒了指甲锉,不太重要。)他如此兴奋,以至于视线几乎模糊,他用力眨眨眼睛,专心看着微小的文字。

> Hi! Whatever you like.
> 嗨!无论你喜欢什么。

i think you’re fundamentally misunderstanding this

> Ahahahahh > 啊哈哈哈哈

> Maybe > 或许

should i get used to that?

> Definitely > 当然

Hyunjin is hyperventilating and near tears. He wishes they could just meet now, so he could do this in person, out loud, up close—when Chan could see the angle of his neck against his shoulders and the way his lips curve in the light. He’s no good over text. Charmless. He should have never texted Chan first; now he seems desperate, and a desperate whore’s no good.
Hyunjin 喘不过气来,几乎要哭了。他希望他们现在就能见面,这样他就可以当面做,大声说出来,近距离看见 Chan 能看到他脖子和肩膀的角度,以及他的嘴唇在光线下的弧度。他在短信里表现得很糟糕。毫无魅力。他不应该先发短信给 Chan;现在他显得很绝望,一个绝望的妓女一无是处。

Buzz-buzz. 嗡嗡声。

> I liked what you were wearing the other night. I somehow get the feeling you’d look good in anything. ^^;
> 我喜欢你上次穿的衣服。我总觉得你穿什么都好看。^^;

oh, okay. i’ll wear something similar

And then, thirty seconds and no reply, Hyunjin follows up:
然后,三十秒过去了,没有回复,Hyunjin 接着说:

can’t wait xo 等不及了 xo

Hyunjin watches the text go out into the void; he begs and begs, silently, for the typing bubble to pop back up, for Chan to say, me, too. But that doesn’t happen, so Hyunjin drops his phone again in despair, this time onto the lip of the bathtub. He reaches for the clear nail polish. When his phone buzzes once more, it scares him into a tiny scream; he frantically picks it back up—almost fumbling, it’s wet, his fingertips are sticky—and sees that Chan has thumbs-up-reacted the message. Then, before Hyunjin’s very eyes, Chan swaps the thumbs up for a heart. And then goes back to the thumbs up and leaves it like that.
Hyunjin 看着短信消失在虚空中;他默默祈祷,希望对方会重新开始输入,希望 Chan 会回复“我也是”。但这并没有发生,于是 Hyunjin 绝望地再次把手机丢在浴缸的边缘上。他伸手拿起透明的指甲油。当他的手机再次震动时,吓得他发出一声小小的尖叫;他疯狂地重新拿起手机——几乎要摔倒,手机湿了,他的指尖粘糊糊的——看到 Chan 给出了大拇指的回应。然后,在 Hyunjin 的眼前,Chan 把大拇指换成了心形。然后又换回大拇指,最终留在那样。

“Fuck me,” Hyunjin breathes, blushing and not even ashamed of how much he likes this dork, letting the ice water take him, although it does nothing to cool his burning heart.




“Plans tonight? Your makeup is soooooo stunning,” Felix coos. His tiny fingers dancing over Hyunjin’s face like cut-out fairies.
“今晚有什么计划?你的妆容太太太惊艳了,” 菲利克斯温柔地说道。他的小手指在贤振的脸上舞动,像剪纸仙子一样。

“Just trying something new,” Hyunjin says, and it’s not even a lie.




The hotel is nice, and Hyunjin is impeccable. Chan won’t even be able to imagine what Hyunjin had done to himself in order to get here—the ice bath self-manicure, the waxing, the closet meltdown at 6 AM this morning. (What has the best ratio of ‘flattering’ to ‘easy to take off’? He has to look like an expensive hooker on purpose this time, beautifully, desirably artificial—lean into what he is.) He strides through the lobby, needlessly and redundantly checking his phone because he knows Chan hasn’t texted, but what if he did? It’s fifteen minutes to eight. He doesn’t even know if Chan is there yet.
酒店很好,贤真无可挑剔。灿甚至无法想象贤真为了到这里做了什么——冰浴自我修饰,脱毛,今天早上 6 点的衣柜崩溃。(什么才是‘讨好’和‘容易脱掉’的最佳比例?这一次他必须故意看起来像一个昂贵的妓女,美丽而令人渴望的虚构——坚持他的本质。)他在大堂里大步走过,毫无必要地多次检查手机,因为他知道灿还没有发短信,但如果他发了呢?离八点还有十五分钟。他甚至不知道灿是否已经到了。

At a broad glance, Chan isn’t in the lobby; Hyunjin strategically positions himself in a vaguely private corner, vaguely between a couple of plants, so his eyes can dart between the main entrance and the elevator passageway. It had been a tough day at rehearsal, but despite all Svetlana Dmitrievna’s increased abuse, Hyunjin’s spirit hadn’t faltered. There had been so much to look forward to, all while walking the tightrope of hiding his excited anticipation from Felix. But where is Chan? Futilely, Hyunjin checks his phone. Nothing. Fuck.
一眼望去,Chan 不在大堂里;Hyunjin 策略性地站在一个隐蔽的角落,模糊地夹在几盆植物之间,这样他的目光可以在主入口和电梯通道之间游移。排练那天过得很艰难,但尽管 Svetlana Dmitrievna 越来越虐待,Hyunjin 的精神并没有动摇。有太多期待的事情要发生,同时还要在紧绷的绳索上行走,隐藏他对 Felix 激动的期待。但 Chan 在哪里?徒劳地,Hyunjin 检查了手机。什么消息也没有。该死。

At 8:01, he heads for the reception desk. The man at reception, coldly good-looking, sturdy, is wearing a burgundy uniform and smiles artificially for Hyunjin’s benefit. Hyunjin sees the up-and-down. It’s like how the bartender at Billy’s had looked at him. I know exactly what you are. “Can I help you?” says the man.
8:01,他走向接待处。接待处的男子,冷冷地英俊,结实,穿着酒红色制服,为了 Hyunjin 的利益而虚假地微笑。Hyunjin 看到了上下打量。就像 Billy's 酒吧的调酒师看着他的样子。我知道你是什么样子的。“我能帮你吗?”那人说道。

“Yes, thank you”—checking nametag, he’s actually the hotel manager—“Minho. I lost my key, and I believe my husband had you save one here for me?” It might work. How the fuck is Hyunjin supposed to know what to do? But the manager is inscrutable, just looking at Hyunjin blankly (and yet judgmentally). “His name’s Ryan Reynolds,” Hyunjin adds, trying not to fidget.
“谢谢,”他查看了胸牌,原来是酒店经理——“Minho。我弄丢了钥匙,我记得我丈夫让你为我留了一把?”或许会奏效。Hyunjin 该怎么知道该怎么做呢?但经理面无表情,只是盯着 Hyunjin 看(却带着审视的眼神)。“他叫瑞恩·雷诺兹,”Hyunjin 补充道,努力不要坐立不安。

Now, with his ridiculously sheer sweater and smoky eyes, glossy-plumped lips and cinched-tight waist, saying that his husband has a reservation at a hotel under Ryan Reynolds—he doesn’t feel like an expensive hooker; he feels like a silly one. Minho the manager is looking at him like he’s silly, too. Hyunjin wants to run away into the night, but what if he bumps into Chan along the way? Minho shrugs very placidly, taps a few keys on his keyboard, and says, “Ah, yes, Ryan Reynolds in 431. He did leave a key here… for his friend.”
现在,他穿着那件透视的毛衣,眼神迷离,嘴唇润泽丰满,腰身勒得紧紧的,说他丈夫在一家酒店预订了一间房间,名字是瑞恩·雷诺兹——他感觉自己不像是一个昂贵的妓女;他感觉自己像是一个愚蠢的妓女。经理闵浩也用一种傻傻的眼神看着他。贤振想要逃进黑夜,但如果在路上碰到灿会怎么办呢?闵浩非常平静地耸了耸肩,敲击了键盘上的几个键,说:“啊,是的,瑞恩·雷诺兹在 431 号房间。他确实留了一把钥匙在这里……给他的朋友。”

“Oh,” Hyunjin says. He stands straighter. His face is burning. He’d thought he could do this—he’d thought he could muddle through. But Minho is smiling as he pulls out a keycard for Hyunjin, he’s smiling like he thinks Hyunjin is pathetic, like he’s in on the joke and Hyunjin is out, but at least he’s sliding the card over the counter to Hyunjin in a little paper case, which Hyunjin is going to either laminate or frame on the wall next to his bed. “Thank you.”

“Enjoy your evening, Mr. Reynolds,” says Minho with an acidic, knowing smile.

Damn him. Hyunjin will enjoy his evening. And he’ll get better at this, he decides suddenly. There’s just a steep learning curve. But practice makes perfect. Just like Svetlana Dmitrievna always tells him. Wouldn’t she be so proud to see him finally internalizing her cruel mantra?
可恶。Hyunjin 会享受他的晚上。他突然决定,他会变得更好。这只是一个陡峭的学习曲线。但熟能生巧。就像 Svetlana Dmitrievna 总是告诉他的那样。她一定会为看到他终于内化她残酷的口头禅而感到骄傲吧?

Hyunjin smiles equally artificially at Minho, who hasn’t blinked for the last thirty seconds, and takes the card from the marble countertop—then he’s off to the elevators. Fourth floor. He stares at his warped reflection in the backs of the closed doors. He stands up straighter. His phone is silent in his bag. Chan is waiting for him—he must be. They’re so similar; Chan must be feeling how Hyunjin is feeling. Nervous, testing whether or not he’s wanted. Hyunjin can feel him, beckoning, pulsing like a heart, like a homing beacon. And Hyunjin follows the call, his palm moistening the paper case around the keycard, his thick-heeled boots clicking on the thin carpet, until he’s standing in front of the door marked 431.
Hyunjin 同样虚假地对着 Minho 微笑,后者在过去的三十秒里都没有眨眼,然后从大理石台面上拿起卡片——然后他就朝电梯走去。四楼。他盯着自己在关闭的电梯门背面的扭曲倒影。他挺直了身子。他包里的手机静静地。Chan 在等他——他一定在等。他们很相似;Chan 一定也感受到了 Hyunjin 的感受。紧张,试探自己是否被需要。Hyunjin 能感觉到他,招手,像心脏跳动,像一个导航信标。Hyunjin 跟随着呼唤,他的手掌让钥匙卡周围的纸盒变湿,他厚底靴子在薄地毯上发出咔哒声,直到他站在标有 431 的门前。

Should he knock? Should he use the key? The humiliating dichotomy of his own bold assertion of husband versus Chan’s blunter declaration of friend still stings. A husband would just let himself in; a friend would knock. Hyunjin, obviously, is neither. He should text and say he’s here and leave the rest up to Chan. He opens his bag, starts to go for his phone. But a sudden noise from behind the door has him stilling like he’s been caught with his hand in the cookie jar, and then the door click-swings open; Chan is there, tense and surprised and so fucking hot.
他应该敲门吗?还是应该用钥匙?他自己大胆宣称是丈夫,而 Chan 更直接地宣称是朋友的羞辱性对立仍然刺痛着他。一个丈夫会直接进来;一个朋友会敲门。显然,Hyunjin 既不是丈夫也不是朋友。他应该发条短信说他来了,然后让 Chan 决定接下来的事情。他打开包,开始拿手机。但是门后突然传来一阵声响,让他像被抓到偷吃饼干一样停下来,然后门“咔哒”一声打开了;Chan 站在那里,紧张而惊讶,看起来如此迷人。

“You came!” Chan says. “你来了!”Chan 说。

“You called,” says Hyunjin-as-Paris: throaty, sultry.
“你打来电话了,”Hyunjin 扮演的巴黎说:嗓音低沉,妩媚。

Chan, already blushing, laughs and steps aside, inviting Hyunjin to come in. Hyunjin does. No sooner has he had the thought that he should really lean in and give Chan a genteel kiss-kiss on the cheeks than he’s already passing Chan by and heading into the room, out of kissing distance. It’s a decent room; desk and chair, dark-curtained windows, a TV playing a travel show on mute, one large bed. Just one. Hyunjin’s eyes linger on it, and he turns around to see Chan, who’s now closing the door and looking nervous. “Is it okay?” Chan asks, crossing also past Hyunjin to his jacket—draped over the back of a chair. “Sorry.”

“It’s perfect,” Hyunjin says, and when Chan gets close again, he reaches out to gently brush his fingers along his cheek. “And don’t say sorry.”

Chan ducks his head, cheeks reddening, and—very unexpectedly—takes Hyunjin’s hand; he palms something into his grip. An endearingly clumsy approximation of a gesture he must only have seen in movies. Hyunjin looks what it is, as Chan, embarrassed, steps back. It’s an envelope, and when Hyunjin sticks a careful, manicured finger inside to unfurl the fold, he finds that within, there are five crisp hundred-dollar bills.

Hyunjin can’t help it; he gasps. “Oh,” he says, suddenly so warm it’s like he’s just taken a shot, and he can feel the heat spreading through him, settling in his veins. He glances quickly up at Chan, who is scarlet. “You want me for the whole night?”
Hyunjin 情不自禁地喘息道:“哦,”他说,突然感到如此温暖,就像他刚刚喝了一口酒,他可以感觉到热量在他身体中传播开来,沉淀在他的血管中。他迅速地瞥了一眼陈,发现他满脸通红。“你想要我整晚?”

“Ah,” Chan says. He honest-to-God wrings his hands together. It occurs to Hyunjin that this is the first time he’s actually seeing Chan properly, sincerely—sober. How he normally is. He likes him so much—wants to wrestle him to the bed and wind around him like a python and squeeze. Chan continues, almost stammering, “We—I guess we didn’t talk about it—ahead of time—but I guess I just assumed—I’m sorry, I should have—”
“啊,”Chan 说。他真诚地握紧双手。Hyunjin 突然意识到这是他第一次真正看到 Chan,清醒地看到他。他喜欢他很多——想要把他摔到床上,像蟒蛇一样缠绕在他身上并挤压。Chan 继续说,几乎结结巴巴地说,“我们——我猜我们事先没有讨论过这件事——但我猜我只是假设——对不起,我应该——”

“Chan,” Hyunjin purrs, slipping the envelope into his bag and crossing smoothly to him, silencing him just with his proximity, and then slinging his arms loosely around Chan’s shoulders. He could walk on water—he could fly. He’d really, genuinely expected that Chan would just want to talk, that he’d only keep him for an hour or two. He’d expected this to be an uphill battle. The provisions in his bag—condoms, lube, so much lube—and the preparations—God, the douching, God, the waxing—had all been wishful, just-in-case thinking. But Chan is making every single one of his wishes come true. “You were right to assume. I’m all yours.”
“Chan,” Hyunjin 咕噜咕噜地说着,把信封塞进包里,优雅地走到他身边,仅凭他的接近就让他安静下来,然后懒散地搭在 Chan 的肩膀上。他仿佛能行走在水面上——他仿佛能飞翔。他真的、真心以为 Chan 只是想聊聊天,只会留他一两个小时。他本来以为这会是一场艰难的战斗。包里的准备——避孕套、润滑剂,那么多润滑剂——以及准备工作——天啊,灌肠,天啊,脱毛——都只是一厢情愿、以防万一的想法。但是 Chan 正在实现他的每一个愿望。“你猜对了。我全都是你的。”

Chan seems either lost or overwhelmed just for a moment, but then his hands rise up to rest, perfectly, on Hyunjin’s waist. He’s blinking slowly, needily—acting on the facts even if he can’t quite believe them. Hyunjin’s tongue aches with all the reassurance he’s going to give him tonight. Chan says, softer, “The room’s really okay?”
Chan 似乎一时迷茫或不知所措,但接着他的双手轻轻地放在 Hyunjin 的腰上,完美地停了下来。他眨眼睛的速度慢了下来,需要的眼神——即使他自己也不太敢相信——Hyunjin 的舌头因为今晚要给他的所有安慰而发疼。Chan 轻声说:“房间真的没问题吗?”

“It’s perfect,” Hyunjin murmurs again.
“完美的,”Hyunjin 再次低声说道。

Chan, evidently believing him this time, nods. “Do… do you come here often?”

He doesn’t even mean it as a come-on; once again, he’s asking about Hyunjin’s other clients. Hyunjin’s too giddy to come up with an elaborate lie. “Do you?” Hyunjin counters with a cheeky smile. It’s intimate, to be this close to him, to not have to raise his voice to speak, and to make Chan smile like that. Hyunjin can feel each of his fingers pressing into Hyunjin’s hips. Particularly his thumbs. “I have something for you.”
他甚至没有别有用心;再次,他只是在询问 Hyunjin 的其他客户。Hyunjin 太兴奋了,无法编造一个复杂的谎言。“你呢?”Hyunjin 带着俏皮的微笑反问道。这种亲密,靠得这么近,不用提高声音就能说话,还能让陈笑得那么开心,这让他感到很亲切。Hyunjin 能感觉到他的每根手指都在压着他的臀部。特别是他的拇指。“我有东西给你。”

“Oh, yeah?” Chan says, a little wary, but Hyunjin smiles at him again and moves back just enough to reach into his bag and pull out the sheet of cardstock (another just-in-case) that has Paris’s rules printed on it. He hands it to Chan, his heart fluttering, and Chan takes a palm off his waist to grasp it. His brow furrows while he reads, but it’s a measured, thoughtful expression; he’s nodding. His other hand remains on Hyunjin’s hipbone and Hyunjin feels like prized merchandise—too precious to be left unguarded. This is a test, Hyunjin thinks. If Chan finds these rules plausible, if he can agree to them, then it’ll validate the fiction; it’ll make it real. So far, so good, it seems. But then Chan gets to the last one and glances up at Hyunjin briefly; actually, he looks directly at Hyunjin’s mouth.
“哦,是吗?” 陈有点警惕地说,但贤真再次对他微笑,稍微后退一点,伸手进包里拿出一张卡纸(又是备用的),上面印着巴黎的规则。他递给陈,心里嘀咕着,陈放开他的腰,拿过卡纸。陈皱着眉头看着,表情深思;他点头。另一只手仍然放在贤真的髋骨上,贤真感觉自己像是珍贵的商品——太珍贵了,不能不加防护。贤真心想,这是个考验。如果陈觉得这些规则可信,如果他能同意,那么这将证明这个虚构变得真实。目前看来一切都还好。但当陈看到最后一条规则时,瞥了贤真一眼;实际上,他直接看向了贤真的嘴唇。

His crestfallen expression, which says it all, sends a powerful thrill through Hyunjin, who can’t resist a little torment—he lightly says, “Any questions?”

“No,” Chan says, rushing. “No, all good, very reasonable. Here, let me get a pen—” He pulls away and goes over to the desk, and Hyunjin, bemused, just lets him; whatever Chan thinks needs to happen here is probably the right course of action. Chan finds a pen, signs the bottom of the page, dates it, and extends it back out to Hyunjin with a flourish. His eyes go straight to Hyunjin’s mouth again. “Here,” he says. “For your records.”
“不,”Chan 匆忙说道。“不,一切都好,非常合理。来,让我拿支笔——”他挣脱开,走到桌子旁边,而 Hyunjin,感到困惑,只是任由他去;无论 Chan 认为在这里需要发生的事情,可能都是正确的行动。Chan 找到一支笔,在页面底部签字,标注日期,然后带着一抹华丽将它递给 Hyunjin。他的目光再次直直地落在 Hyunjin 的嘴唇上。“拿去,”他说。“供你留档。”

Hyunjin understands. He wants it so much, too—it would be so easy to kiss him—but he can’t let Julia Roberts down, and besides, that’ll make it all the sweeter when he caves in two to three weeks’ time. Chan can’t stop looking at his lips—like he’s been thinking about them—like he didn’t even know how much he needed them until they were made off-limits—like he’s disappointed he won’t get to taste. “Don’t worry,” Hyunjin says, taking the signed rule sheet and replacing it in his bag. “I can do other things with my mouth.”

Chan gratifyingly chokes. “Paris,” he says, scandalized, but there’s a smile fighting to break free.
Chan 愉快地呛住了。"巴黎,"他说,受到了惊吓,但脸上却挣扎着露出微笑。

“Chan,” Hyunjin counters, sparkling, pouting, and returns his hands to Chan’s shoulders—Chan’s hands, equally easily, find his waist again. It’s so dreamy and romantic, Hyunjin could swoon. For now, he just thaws into a smile down at Chan. “You look amazing. It’s so good to see you. I’ve been counting the days.”
“灿,” 玄辰反驳道,眼中闪烁着光芒,噘着嘴,双手又放在灿的肩膀上——灿的手也很自然地又找到了他的腰。这一切如此梦幻浪漫,玄辰几乎要晕倒。此刻,他只是微笑着看着灿。“你看起来太棒了。见到你真好。我一直在数着日子。”

Oh, Chan mouths. He tips his head up—sunflower into Hyunjin’s warmth. “You’re really going right for it, huh.”

Hyunjin’s hands move, sweeping up the lines of his shoulders, dragging over the sides of his neck. If Chan wants him to go for it, if he’s Chan’s for the night, then he’s really going to go for it. “Is that what you need?” he murmurs, leaning down and in just to inhale him, just to get closer to him, and Chan’s grip tightens on his waist. “For me to say nice things to you?”
Hyunjin 的手移动着,扫过他的肩膀线条,拖过脖子两侧。如果 Chan 想让他继续,如果他今晚是 Chan 的,那么他真的会继续下去。“这是你需要的吗?”他低语着,俯身靠近,只是为了吸气,只是为了更靠近他,而 Chan 的手紧紧抓住他的腰。“我要对你说些好听的话吗?”

Chan is still, but not pulling away. Hyunjin must have gotten it right, and when he noses at Chan’s ear, Chan shudders. “I just need,” he says, low, then starts to turn his head, but stops. A quiet, amused exhale. “Ah, it’s weird that I can’t kiss you.”

Hyunjin smiles, too. He nuzzles the side of Chan’s head. “Sorry,” he offers lightly.
Hyunjin 也微笑了。他把头靠在灿的脑袋旁边。“对不起,”他轻声道歉。

“Don’t say sorry,” Chan breathes, and his hands are suddenly tight-tight, pulling Hyunjin against himself, his strong palm against the very small of Hyunjin’s back, and Hyunjin can’t breathe for wanting him, clutches at Chan’s shoulders, sinks down to mouth along Chan’s neck. He tastes good—warm, bitter, alive. Chan’s making hesitant steps—closer to the bed—and Hyunjin pulls, falls, makes Chan fall on top of him, on the edge of the mattress. So weird that they can’t kiss, but so hot, too, frustrating and making Hyunjin nearly whine in the back of his throat, but instead, he grabs Chan’s hands and puts them on his body again.
“不要说抱歉,”Chan 呼吸着说,他的双手突然变得紧紧的,将 Hyunjin 拉向自己,他坚实的手掌压在 Hyunjin 背部的最低处,Hyunjin 为了想要他而无法呼吸,紧紧抓住 Chan 的肩膀,俯身在 Chan 的脖子上亲吻。他的味道很好—温暖、苦涩、充满生机。Chan 迈出了犹豫的步伐—靠近床边—Hyunjin 拉扯着,倒下去,让 Chan 跌倒在他身上,悬在床沿上。他们无法接吻,这么奇怪,但也很性感,令人沮丧,让 Hyunjin 几乎忍不住在喉咙里发出呻吟声,但他却抓住 Chan 的手,再次放在自己的身体上。

“I put all this on for you,” he tells him, already out of breath. “Take it all off.”

“Aye-aye,” Chan says, resolute, and Hyunjin sees it—the self-directed wince, the cringe, about to overtake him—can see his lips pulling back to shape the sorry, but it had been funny, and Hyunjin’s giggle is faster than Chan’s embarrassment. Hyunjin watches the negotiation. His eyes, beaming up at Chan, are so full of naked adoration—naked desire—naked need. Chan has no idea how much Hyunjin really needs this. Nobody (other than Felix) has touched him outside of rehearsal in—a month, a year? Forget sexually—it’s been even longer for that. It doesn’t even matter. All Chan knows is that the pretty little thing underneath him just laughed at his lame not-even-a-joke, and it makes him shrink back, but in a pleasantly shocked way. His hands stay, and then they start to slide up Hyunjin’s barely-there sweater. His touches are careful: light like curious but light like scared. He doesn’t know what he’s doing, either—they’re the same.
“是的,”Chan 坚定地说道,而 Hyunjin 看到了——自责的畏缩,即将袭来的尴尬——可以看到他的嘴唇开始收缩,准备说声抱歉,但那真的很有趣,Hyunjin 的咯咯笑声比 Chan 的尴尬更快。Hyunjin 注视着这场协商。他仰望着 Chan,眼中充满了赤裸的崇拜——赤裸的欲望——赤裸的需求。Chan 根本不知道 Hyunjin 有多需要这一切。除了 Felix 之外,已经有多久没有人(除了排练之外)触碰过他了——一个月,一年?甚至更久?甚至不是性方面——对于那方面更久了。这都不重要。Chan 唯一知道的是,他下面这个漂亮的小家伙刚刚笑了他那个无聊得不能再无聊的笑话,这让他有些退缩,但是一种愉快的震惊。他的双手停留在原地,然后开始沿着 Hyunjin 几乎透明的毛衣滑动。他的触碰很小心:像是好奇但又像是害怕。他也不知道自己在做什么——他们一样。

Most importantly, though, Chan is warm. Hot, even. Hyunjin can’t take this for much longer—the fruit’s right in front of Chan, all he has to do is sink his teeth in, let the juice spill down his chin. The sweater’s coming off, over Hyunjin’s head, and Chan does take a moment to just admire Hyunjin—Hyunjin can’t help but preen, his blood thudding through all his limbs, and Chan’s palm skims down his marble chest, his concave stomach, all the perfect silk-smooth stretch of him. “You,” Chan says quietly, “are so beautiful.”
最重要的是,Chan 很温暖。甚至有点热。Hyunjin 再也忍受不了了——水果就在 Chan 面前,他只需咬一口,让果汁顺着下巴流淌。毛衣脱下来,从 Hyunjin 的头上脱下,Chan 确实花了一会儿时间来欣赏 Hyunjin——Hyunjin 不禁自豪,他的血液在全身肢体中澎湃,Chan 的手掌在他的大理石胸膛上轻轻划过,凹陷的腹部,他完美丝滑的伸展。"你,"Chan 轻声说,"如此美丽。"

Hyunjin wraps his legs around him and arches up off the bed to make it easier for Chan to start unbuttoning his complex fly and shimmying his trousers down his hips. Wildly, he’s anxious—blood thrumming louder, cock stirring with altogether too much urgent interest. “You’re not paying me to get flattered,” he points out with a nervy scoff.
Hyunjin 把双腿缠绕在他身上,挺起身离开床,让 Chan 更容易开始解开他复杂的拉链和把裤子从臀部脱下。他焦虑地兴奋——血液的跳动声更响亮,阴茎激动地勃起,充满了太多迫切的兴趣。"你不是为了让我受宠而付钱给我的,"他紧张地嘲笑道。

“I’m not flattering you,” Chan argues, still quiet. “I mean it. Can I—”
“我不是在奉承你,”Chan 争辩道,依然轻声说。“我是认真的。我可以吗—”

“Yes,” Hyunjin says, not even waiting for what it is, and Chan, as he pulls Hyunjin’s trousers down, also bends so he can press his mouth just above Hyunjin’s lithe belly. Hyunjin exhales harshly, and he doesn’t know how to fake it—he doesn’t know how Chan wants him to fake it—whether he should show how overwhelmed he is by Chan’s touch, by his attention, or if he should be cool and calm and cutting, or something in-between. If Chan needs someone to lavish attention on, or if he’ll accept all Hyunjin’s adoration. Maybe they can just figure it out as they go along—that might be better. Everyone’s always telling him he’s no good from up-close, not much of an actor; his eyes give it all away.
“是的,”Hyunjin 说,甚至没有等待是什么,当 Chan 拉下 Hyunjin 的裤子时,他也弯下腰,可以将嘴唇压在 Hyunjin 纤细的腹部上方。Hyunjin 粗暴地呼出一口气,他不知道如何假装——他不知道 Chan 希望他如何假装——他是应该展现被 Chan 的触摸、关注压倒的样子,还是应该冷静自若,冷漠而尖刻,或者介于两者之间。Chan 是否需要有人对他倾注关注,或者他是否会接受 Hyunjin 所有的崇拜。也许他们可以边走边看着办——那可能更好。每个人都告诉他,他近看起来不怎么样,不是个好演员;他的眼睛泄露了一切。

“Jesus,” Chan says. “天啊,”Chan 说。

“Paris,” Hyunjin reminds distantly.
「巴黎,」Hyunjin 淡淡地提醒。

“Ha,” Chan says, his hands shaking on the final pull of fabric down Hyunjin’s thighs. “No, I just—fuck, the way you’re looking at me.”
「哈,」Chan 说道,他的手在最后一块布拉下 Hyunjin 大腿时颤抖着。「不,我只是—该死,你看着我的方式。」

So he likes it—the sincerity. Hyunjin, down now just to his clingy briefs, smiles with delirious relief. “I’ve been waiting all week to look at you again,” he answers, skims his hands up Chan’s arms. “Roll over, baby, let me in your lap.”
所以他喜欢—这份真诚。现在只剩下贴身内裤的 Hyunjin 欣喜地微笑着。「整整一周我都在等着再次看着你,」他回答道,用手在 Chan 的手臂上轻轻摩擦。「翻过来,宝贝,让我坐到你腿上。」

Chan’s very obedient; Hyunjin is, too. A good match. A perfect fit. Chan settles and Hyunjin settles on top of him, tall and gorgeous, and greedily drags his palms down Chan’s chest, then back up, rucking his t-shirt higher as he goes, but—Chan shies back: “Not—just yet,” he says, reddening.
Chan 非常顺从;Hyunjin 也是。一对好搭档。完美契合。Chan 安静下来,Hyunjin 则坐在他身上,高大而迷人,贪婪地将手掌沿着 Chan 的胸膛滑下,然后又滑回去,顺着他的 T 恤往上提,但是——Chan 畏缩了:“还不—现在不行,”他说,脸红了。

A true professional wouldn’t sulk over this; a true professional would work overtime to make him comfortable. Hyunjin just nods, leans in to suckle on Chan’s earlobe, and presses his body against Chan’s. “Take your time,” he purrs. “We have all night.”
一个真正的专业人士不会因此而闷闷不乐;一个真正的专业人士会加班工作,让他感到舒适。Hyunjin 点点头,俯身吮吸 Chan 的耳垂,将身体压在 Chan 身上。“慢慢来,”他咕噜着。“我们有整晚的时间。”

Chan makes a quiet noise. His palms have landed on the tops of Hyunjin’s thighs, and they’re moving restlessly, like Hyunjin is a fidget toy. (And isn’t he just?) He breathes Hyunjin in, too. “And you smell good?” he mumbles, sounding nearly complainy. “What’s the catch, huh?”
Chan 发出了一声轻声。他的手掌落在 Hyunjin 的大腿上,不安地移动着,就像 Hyunjin 是个发呆的玩具。(他不就是吗?)他也闻了闻 Hyunjin。“你闻起来不错?”他嘟囔着,听起来几乎是在抱怨。“有什么猫腻,嗯?”

Oh, if you only knew. “That’s the best part,” Hyunjin murmurs, lips to his neck, hands kneading at his lap like a cat. “I don’t have one. What were you saying earlier—that you need…?”

Another quiet noise, and he is getting hard under Hyunjin’s touch, body, attention. Still shy, though, curling inwards. His breath is shallow, brushing Hyunjin’s naked collarbone, and it makes Hyunjin shiver. “I just need—I don’t know how to say it, Paris, it sounds so stupid even when I think it—”

“Attention,” Hyunjin says. “And to cum inside me.”

Chan laughs, bright and shocked, his hands squeezing now at Hyunjin’s ass. “Are you a fucking mind-reader?”

“Yes,” Hyunjin says, and in his mind—if only Chan could read it!—he kisses Chan a thousand times until their lungs atrophy, but for now, the next-best thing is reaching out in a swan-dive backbend to grab his bag and pull lube out from within. He rests his forehead against Chan’s shoulder, nuzzles him affectionately. All he can think about is kissing—he needs something better to do with his mouth. “Wait for me,” he tells Chan softly, and then he slips back, slides down to his knees in front of the bed, and pillows his cheek on Chan’s thigh as he unzips his fly for him. Just to slip his hand inside, though, while he multitasks; he’s peeling his own briefs down, and it might be for the best that from this angle, Chan can’t see his excitement, the way he’s too hard for what they’ve done so far. But—oh—Chan’s so reactive, too, getting thicker seemingly by the second, and Hyunjin’s panting for it and he hasn’t even gotten a hand on him properly yet. He glances up through his eyelashes at Chan, who’s dark-eyed, who’s visibly fighting his shyness—who, ultimately, nods. Yes.

The pro takes over. Hyunjin has never multitasked like this in his life. He’d prepped a little earlier, quickly, right after rehearsal ended, so he’s not too tight, but the stretch of his fingers inside himself is secondary, even perfunctory, compared to the way he’s fitting Chan’s cock into his throat. Chan is broad and strong everywhere—he’s big, I was right! Hyunjin’s drooling so much and the sound, the feeling, is obscene. He loves it on his knees for Chan—he could spend all night here. He sucks greedily like he’s coming up for air. He had no idea his tongue could push out that far. Chan, above him where he belongs, is moaning softly, incoherently—a little hoarse, so sweet, like a nonthreatening boyband crush. His hand isn’t in Hyunjin’s hair—which would be nice, a tight pull, or a grip to keep him choking—but instead on his shoulder, which is also so nice, very respectful, very intimate. His fingers twitch from time to time. He’s thick in Hyunjin’s throat—so hard, so suckable. Hyunjin’s lost in it. And he’s making a fucking mess, he doesn’t even care, that’s what housekeeping is for, he hopes they report back to manager Minho downstairs—we might have to burn the sheets. Svetlana Dmitrievna is right about him; he’s sloppy. His throat is going to hurt. He’ll tell Felix he’s coming down with a cold. Most importantly, Chan likes it. Chan is restless, squirming, pushing his cock deeper into Hyunjin’s hot velvet mouth. There’s more where that came from, Hyunjin thinks, and abruptly pulls off.

“Fff-fuck,” Chan says, shuddering, and grips the spit-dripping base of his cock. “Are you—”
“啊—” 灿颤抖着说道,握住滴着口水的阳具根部。“你——”

“I’m ready. Unless you wanted to cum on my face first,” Hyunjin offers innocently. Belying his words, though—which did make Chan visibly throb—he can’t quite drag himself away, can’t resist going back in to French-kiss the head, then nuzzling his face on it like a happy cat. He’s thrilled, all his earlier anxiety replaced so intoxicatingly with enjoyment. It’s been forever since he’s slept with anyone, and he’s never gotten to do it like this—fun and depraved and as shameless as he’s never known how to be. He loves Paris—Paris lets him be so different. He wants Chan to love Paris even more—Paris can let Chan be so different, too. Hyunjin drags his tongue up the side of Chan’s fat cock and doesn’t break eye contact. “Hm? What do you want, Chan?”

Chan’s shaking; he must not be used to this much attention, either. “I—I—”

“I’m not asking for a whole speech,” Hyunjin soothes. He gently pushes Chan’s hand aside to take hold of him instead, licking between his fingertips, pumping him slow and wet. “I’ll do all the work for you. I’ll take care of you, such good care of you. You’ll feel so good. All you have to do is give me something to get me started, and I’ll do the rest.”

Chan’s chest is heaving; his breaths are still those soft boyfriend-moans. Hyunjin is losing his mind. Chan moves—he puts a hand on Hyunjin’s face, warm thumb pushing a strand of Hyunjin’s hair away from his flushed cheek. It’s a quiet moment—or it would be, if it weren’t for the way Hyunjin has to squirm on his knees because of his own arousal, and for Chan’s diamond-hard dick pressing little smooches against Hyunjin’s chin. But Chan is still wordless. What’s it going to take? Bondage and edging torture to make him admit he wants something all for himself? Hyunjin’s about to start pleading with him—just tell me you want me, just tell me you want me even a little bit—when Chan exhales, and, mumbling but clear, says, “I want—you. What you said. And—what you said last time, too.”

“Last time?” “上次?”

“When you were—leaving.” “你走的时候。”

Hyunjin cocks his head, idly toying with Chan’s tip as he thinks back. He’s been embarrassed about those closing remarks; they had been so melodramatic—a pantomime of a prostitute. Ridiculous. But evidently, it had cut Chan deep. Perfect. His eyes light up; he could cry, he’s so proud of Chan. “Thank you,” he says, breathy, reverent. He pulls his fingers out of himself, lets go of Chan’s cock, and stands up, stretching tall and available in front of Chan. What a sense of direction he has—what divine purpose. He’s never felt more sure of anything in his life as he finally goes for Chan’s t-shirt again, and as Chan lets him pull it up and off. Hyunjin doesn’t bother holding back his indulgent little groan at the sight of his bare skin, his fit, built body—what the hell had he been self-conscious about?—broad chest for cuddling, big arms, nice taut stomach that’s going to look devastatingly picture-pretty splattered with Hyunjin’s cum. The noise makes Chan blush, but he’s making progress: he no longer tries to hide from Hyunjin’s eyes, and just looks at him in return as Hyunjin gets in his lap again.
Hyunjin 歪着头,漫不经心地玩弄着 Chan 的尖端,回想起来。他一直为那些结束语感到尴尬;它们太夸张了——像是一个妓女的滑稽表演。荒谬。但显然,那深深地伤害了 Chan。完美。他的眼睛闪闪发光;他感动得几乎要哭了,他如此为 Chan 感到骄傲。“谢谢你,”他说,带着气息,虔诚。他把手指从自己身上拿开,放开 Chan 的阴茎,站起来,在 Chan 面前伸展身体,显得高大而迷人。他有多么清晰的方向感——多么神圣的目的。他从未像现在这样对任何事情如此确定,最终他再次伸手去拿 Chan 的 T 恤,而 Chan 任由他把它拉起来脱掉。Hyunjin 看到他赤裸的皮肤,他健美、强壮的身体——他到底为什么自卑呢?——宽阔的胸膛适合拥抱,粗壮的胳膊,漂亮的紧致腹部,涂满 Hyunjin 的精液后将显得令人心动。这声音让 Chan 脸红,但他正在取得进展:他不再试图躲避 Hyunjin 的目光,只是看着他,当 Hyunjin 再次坐到他腿上时。

Hyunjin settles in, shimmying as he reaches for the lube. He kind of likes the feeling of the denim of Chan’s jeans against the whisper-soft undersides of his thighs, and it’s a nice hip flexor stretch, straddling him like this. Nicest of all, though, are Chan’s palms—fitting to Hyunjin’s waist like they were made for each other. This solves the puzzle. Hyunjin gets himself wetter, trusts Chan to keep him from falling. The condom goes on fast—considering how long it’s been, Hyunjin’s honestly impressed with himself for how little he has to fumble with it. It’s almost like he is a professional who does this all the time, every night, for years. And then it’s just a simple matter of another puzzle piece fitting into the space where it was made to go.
Hyunjin 安顿下来,一边摇晃着身体一边伸手拿润滑剂。他有点喜欢 Chan 的牛仔裤对着他大腿柔软的内侧的感觉,跨坐在他身上也是一个不错的髋部伸展。然而最美好的是 Chan 的手掌——贴合在 Hyunjin 的腰部,仿佛它们就是为彼此而生。这解开了谜题。Hyunjin 变得更湿润,相信 Chan 会防止他摔倒。安全套很快套上——考虑到已经多久了,Hyunjin 对自己处理得如此娴熟感到印象深刻。就好像他是一个经常做这种事情的专业人士,每天晚上,多年如一日。然后,就只是另一个拼图块简单地契合到它应该去的地方。

When Hyunjin had first spotted Chan through the windshield of his car, could he have imagined just how good it would feel to sit and split on his cock? It’s all he’s thought about every day since that moment, and reality still surpasses expectation in every way. Chan clutches tighter at Hyunjin’s waist and Hyunjin whimpers out a breath, arches his back, keeps his eyes open so he’ll never, ever forget this. “Yes,” he says, incoherent, weak. “Oh, my God, Chan.”
当 Hyunjin 第一次通过车窗看到 Chan 时,他能想象到坐在他的阴茎上会有多么美妙吗?自那一刻起,这是他每天都在想的事情,现实仍然在各个方面超出了期望。Chan 紧紧抓住 Hyunjin 的腰,Hyunjin 喘着气呻吟,挺起背,睁开眼睛,这样他永远不会忘记这一刻。“是的,”他说,语无伦次,软弱。“天啊,Chan。”

“Yeah?” Chan says, also audibly a little strained, and his legs are trembling under Hyunjin—Hyunjin hopes from tight restraint, to keep from snapping his hips up into him. But Hyunjin wants him to snap. He wants him to let go of that restraint, to release his fear of negative consequences or doing the wrong thing or hurting Hyunjin or his feelings. Chan deserves to be free—it’s now Hyunjin’s life mission to break his chains.
“是吗?”Chan 也明显有些吃力地说道,他的腿在 Hyunjin 身下颤抖着—Hyunjin 希望这是因为紧绷的控制,为了不让自己猛地向上抽动。但 Hyunjin 想让他抽动。他想让他放开那种控制,放开对负面后果或做错事或伤害 Hyunjin 或他的感情的恐惧。Chan 应该自由—现在 Hyunjin 的人生使命就是打破他的枷锁。

“Wanted this from the second I saw you,” Hyunjin tells him, starting to roll his hips, smooth and slow at first, but getting faster—not into a bounce, though, he’ll work his way up to that so he can make this position last longer. Bad stamina. Lazy. Not tonight. Tonight, he leans in to kiss Chan’s neck, his hands sliding up Chan’s arms, then gripping firmly onto his delts, so meaty, so defined. “Wanted you so bad.”

Chan pants. “Me?” 灿喘着气。“我?”

“You,” Hyunjin confirms, harsh uneven breaths huffing against Chan’s ear. “My first thought was—I bet he’s hung. And I got that right!”

“Paris,” Chan laughs. His hands ever-tighter.
“巴黎,” 陈笑着说。他的手越来越紧。

“My second thought was I bet he’d be so good to me, and look at you, I got that right, too,” Hyunjin continues, touching Chan everywhere, feeling him up as much as he’s clinging on for dear life, for protection. “You’re such a fucking treat. I’m so glad you called me.”
“我第二个想法是,我打赌他会对我很好,看看你,我也猜对了,” 灏辰继续说着,到处触摸着陈,感受着他,就像他紧紧抓住生命,抓住保护一样。“你真是个特别的享受。我很高兴你打电话给我。”

Chan makes a hurt-pleased noise, his face pressed into Hyunjin’s shoulder. One of his hands is dragging down to get a handhold on Hyunjin’s ass. Like instinct is taking over—his caveman fuck-brain emerging from underneath all his layers of neuroses and self-doubt, like the sun at the inevitable end of a storm. “Really?”

If what Chan needs is, in fact, for Hyunjin to say nice things to him, then they’ll be here all night. And, hell, they will. “It’s not really right for me to have a type, maybe,” Hyunjin says, breathy but aiming for a breezy matter-of-fact tone, “but can you blame me? I treat everybody the same regardless, but—I’m only human.”

A quiet huff from Chan. A squeeze to Hyunjin’s ass. “Are you?”

“I am,” Hyunjin says, “I am, and I have needs, too, and—I just needed to get to you, talk to you, get you fucking naked. Hot with a good heart? Fuck, you’re catnip. Plus, I love your accent. You can fly me to Australia anytime, baby, I’ve always wanted to go.” (Chan laughs. Hyunjin clutches his fingers through Chan’s hair, already sweat-wet at the nape.) “I like that you’re shy,” Hyunjin adds, softer, and Chan’s mouth opens against Hyunjin’s collarbone. “Modesty’s hot to me. It makes me wanna push your buttons.” He gropes Chan’s pecs, thumbs against his nipples, and Chan squirms even as his hips jump upward. “Basically,” Hyunjin concludes, lapping momentarily at Chan’s neck, sighing out a moan as, inside him, Chan’s dick grinds against his prostate like he’s the pro, “you’re my dream man.”

“Paris,” Chan groans, half-embarrassed, half-loving it. He squeezes Hyunjin more urgently. “Paris—can I flip you over?”

“You can do anything to me.”

“Okay,” Chan says with a small laugh—again, that shy-horny balance. He pulls out; he helps Hyunjin move. With Chan gripping Hyunjin’s ribs, it’s not unlike a ballet lift—Hyunjin’s never been the lifted one before, and he loves it, loves the millisecond of floating, of knowing strong hands will catch him on the way back down. Chan wants him on his back, so Hyunjin complies, spreads open wide, arches up pornstar-perfect with his ankles linked behind Chan’s hips when Chan slides inside him. There’s a warm flush all down Chan’s cheeks, and his eyes are sparkling, drinking in the view. It’s a pretty good fucking view from down here, too.
"“好的,” 陈笑着说,再次展现出那种害羞而又兴奋的平衡。他退出来;他帮助贤真移动。陈紧握着贤真的肋骨,这有点像芭蕾舞的抬起——贤真以前从未被抬过,他喜欢这种感觉,喜欢那一瞬间的飘浮,知道有力的双手会在他下落时接住他。陈想要他趴在床上,所以贤真照做了,张开双腿,像明星一样完美地拱起,脚踝交叉在陈的臀部后面,当陈进入他时。陈的脸颊泛起一抹温暖的红晕,他的眼睛闪闪发光,沉浸在这个景象中。从这里看过去,这也是一个相当不错的景色。”

For some reason, Chan is fighting a smile; Hyunjin starts to grow concerned that the spell has somehow been broken. That he’s lost him. But he smiles back anyway. “Even your smile is sexy.”

“Ah,” Chan says, using Hyunjin’s flanks as a hand-hold. He’s smiling wider, and Hyunjin could drown in his dimples. “Wow. I know you don’t mean any of that, what you just said—”
“啊,” 陈说着,用贤真的腰作为支撑。他笑得更开心了,贤真几乎要被他的酒窝淹没了。“哇。我知道你刚才说的那些话都不是认真的——”

“Chan,” Hyunjin tries to protest, instantly frantic with the whore’s dilemma, but—

“—but I don’t even care,” Chan continues, and that’s a new smile, a confident smile, punch-drunk instead of drunk-drunk. “I was right about you, too.”
“但我甚至不在乎,” 陈继续说道,这是一个新的微笑,一个自信的微笑,像是被打晕了而不是喝醉了。“我对你的看法也是对的。”

Hyunjin can’t keep up; Chan isn’t making sense. Also, he’s kind of plowing into Hyunjin right now, and it’s getting increasingly harder to think in coherent sentences. All Hyunjin is really getting from this, though, is that Chan is happy—and, crucially, that Chan thought about him. “You—you were? What about me?”

“Just that—d’you mind if I objectify you for a sec?”

Please. “求求你。”

“Well, just that—this is—you’re kind of perfect for me,” Chan explains, flushed, stroking so impossibly deep into him that Hyunjin’s eyesight blurs. It’s like he’s not even doing it on purpose; he’s distracted, so he can cut loose, a total unintentional sex savant. But his words, too, had been so potent that Hyunjin has to choke back a sob. Subtly, he tries to work a hand coherently enough to pinch himself, while Chan elaborates: “I’m—I have a lot of weird hang-ups about myself and desirability, you know? When we met, I guess I told you some about it, how I’m no good on my own. In relationships, I just get so freaky and paranoid and sad all the time because I think—I mean, I said it to you! There’s no way someone like you would be interested in me! That anyone would be, actually. And, see, this is perfect, because—you aren’t!”
“嗯,只是这个——这个——你对我来说有点完美,” 陈解释道,脸红了,插入得如此之深,以至于贤真的视线模糊了。就好像他根本不是故意的;他心不在焉,所以他可以尽情释放,一个完全无意识的性天才。但他的话也是如此有力,以至于贤真不得不忍住一声啜泣。他试图用一只手有条理地捏自己,同时陈继续解释道:“我——我对自己和自己的吸引力有很多奇怪的顾虑,你知道吗?当我们相遇时,我想我告诉过你一些关于这方面的事情,我一个人不行。在恋爱关系中,我总是变得如此疯狂、偏执和悲伤,因为我认为——我是说过给你听的!像你这样的人不可能对我感兴趣!实际上,任何人都不会。而且,看,这是完美的,因为——你不是!”

“Oh, yeah?” is the most Hyunjin can muster—Chan has now cast one of Hyunjin’s legs up over his shoulder and he’s fucking Hyunjin deeper than Hyunjin has ever been fucked.
“哦,是吗?”这是 Hyunjin 能说出的最多的话语了—Chan 现在把 Hyunjin 的一条腿抬到了自己的肩膀上,他比 Hyunjin 以往任何时候都插得更深。

“Yeah,” Chan beams. “While I’m so extra fucked-up right now, you’re exactly what I need. I’ll never have to worry about whether or not you actually like me or find me attractive or want to be around me, because I know you don’t. I won’t ever have to wonder if you’re faking it—because I’ll know you are! That’s so weirdly relieving, like a—a load off my shoulders. Maybe that’s awful of me. I just hope you don’t hate it.”
“是的,”Chan 笑得灿烂。“当我现在如此地心烦意乱时,你就是我需要的。我永远不用担心你到底是否真的喜欢我、觉得我有魅力或者想和我在一起,因为我知道你不会。我永远不用担心你是在假装—因为我知道你是!这种感觉真是奇怪地让人如释重负,就像是卸下了我的重担。也许这样做很糟糕,我只是希望你不会讨厌。”

“I don’t hate it,” Hyunjin pants. He has to close his eyes—he’s in a whirlwind, emotional and physical and spiritual. What on Earth is Chan talking about? He wants Hyunjin to not be into him? What a mind-fuck—along with the full-body, tingling, building deep-fuck going on, too. “And it’s—not awful. I want to help, I really do. I’m here for you, Chan, I’m perfect for you.”
“我不讨厌,”Hyunjin 喘着气说。他不得不闭上眼睛—他仿佛置身于一场旋风之中,情感、肉体和精神上都是如此。Chan 到底在说什么?他希望 Hyunjin 对他没感觉?这真是一种心灵上的折磨—还有全身上下、刺痛、逐渐加深的插入感。 “而且这并不糟糕。我想帮助你,我真的想。我在这里,为你,我是你的完美伴侣。”

“Yes,” Chan agrees vehemently.
“是的,”Chan 断然同意。

“You don’t have to do anything special to impress me. I’ll cream myself when you just touch me.”

“Yes—” “是的—”

“All I’ll want is to be around you, I won’t want to see anybody else—”

“Yes—” “是的—”

“I’ll need you, I’ll trust you, I’ll miss you when we’re not together—”

“Yes—” “是的—”

“As long as you need me to,” Hyunjin finishes, opening his dewy eyes, finding that Chan’s eyes are closed, that he’s shivering, his muscles jumping as his thrusts get more erratic, harder. There’s a pause, a bury, and then Chan is shaking apart, pulsing once, twice, three times, and then, with a softly broken noise, thrusting in and out slower, carefully, to chase the feeling. Hyunjin is gasping like an injured animal and Chan is emitting a warm, steady glow, so Hyunjin—himself on a knife’s edge of coming—pets soothingly over his taut arms, his hips, whatever parts of his chest he can reach, murmuring and cooing, “That feels so good, Chan, you fucked me so good, I feel so good.”
“只要你需要我,” 现在,Hyunjin 说完,睁开他湿润的眼睛,发现 Chan 的眼睛闭着,他在颤抖,随着他的冲刺变得更加不规则,更加剧烈。有一段停顿,一种埋葬,然后 Chan 开始崩溃,脉动了一次,两次,三次,然后,发出一声轻柔而破碎的声音,慢慢地进出,小心翼翼地追逐着那种感觉。Hyunjin 像受伤的动物一样喘着气,而 Chan 发出温暖而稳定的光芒,所以 Hyunjin——自己正处于临界点——在他紧绷的手臂、臀部,以及他能触及的胸部的任何部位上轻轻抚摸,低声细语,“那感觉真好,Chan,你操我真好,我感觉真好。”

Finally, Chan’s movements slow to a complete stop. He exhales harshly, and braces a palm on the bed, starting to lean down, but—halts midway. Cute, crooked smile. “Oh, right,” he says, with the most obscenely puffy lips, the nicest teeth. “No kissing.”
最后,Chan 的动作完全停止了。他粗气地呼出一口气,用手掌撑在床上,开始俯身,但是——在半路停下。可爱的、歪歪扭扭的微笑。“哦,对了,”他说,嘴唇肿胀得令人发指,牙齿很漂亮。“不接吻。”

Hyunjin hums luxuriantly, stretching, squirming around in his own suffocating arousal. “You’re really tempting me,” he murmurs, chin tipping up.

Chan laughs, pulls back, pulls out. Hyunjin shudders, collapsing, and Chan—who seems completely reborn out of ash—skims an affectionate, easy palm down his lean thigh. As if for the first time, he notices Hyunjin’s cock, positively weeping against his abdomen. “Oh,” he says, blinking, blushing, fingers flexing. “Could I—I mean, you probably don’t want—”

“Chan,” Hyunjin sighs, reaching out for him. “Look how hot you got me. Of course I want. I mean, you’re not just going to leave me like this, are you? I thought you were supposed to be a giver.”
「灿」,Hyunjin 叹了口气,伸手去拉他。“看看你把我搞得多火辣。当然我想要。我是说,你不会就这样抛下我吧?我还以为你应该是个慷慨的人。”

Chan—so much more relaxed, even his posture is different—scoffs, comes back down to the bed next to Hyunjin, slips his hand between Hyunjin’s thighs. “I have so much to give, Paris. You have no idea.”

“Give it to me, then—oh, fuck—”

“Take it all,” Chan maybe murmurs, or maybe Hyunjin is hallucinating, or maybe he’s dead and this is heaven, because Chan is trailing down his body, palming him, teasing him, giving him a nice wet fist to thrust into except Hyunjin can’t even thrust—he can’t even move or breathe or think—Chan strokes down tight, and all of a sudden, completely neglected and untouched until this point, Hyunjin makes a very high-pitched frantic noise, thighs jolting, and snaps like a rubber band, hurtling over the cliff of orgasm and shattering into a thousand slick white pieces.
“全都给我,”Chris 或许低语着,或许是 Hyunjin 在幻觉,或许他已经死了,这就是天堂,因为 Chris 正沿着他的身体滑下,握住他,逗弄他,给他一个湿漉漉的拳头让他插入,但是 Hyunjin 甚至无法插入—他甚至无法移动、呼吸或思考—Chris 紧紧地抚摸下去,直到这一刻完全被忽视和未触及的部分,Hyunjin 发出了一个非常尖锐而狂乱的声音,大腿猛地抽搐,像橡皮筋一样断裂,冲向高潮的悬崖,化为一千片光滑的白色碎片。

In the immediate aftermath, although his ears are ringing, he hears Chan—as if from underwater—sounding warmly amused as he says, “Aw, I wanted to go down on you.”
在紧接着的混乱中,尽管他耳朵嗡嗡作响,他听到 Chris—仿佛在水下—温暖地笑着说:“哎呀,我想给你口交。”

“We’re just getting started, baby,” Hyunjin rasps (a more attractive way of saying ‘wheezes’). “There’s always round two.” 

Chan laughs, light and content, and Hyunjin feels the dip of the bed as Chan moves down, kisses at Hyunjin’s hipbone, then gets up. Quiet rustling—a running faucet, Chan humming oh-so-softly to himself. Hyunjin feels like he’s still teetering, and he should be embarrassed about finishing so fast, and he is, but—Chan’s a giver. Finally naked, he’s coming back now to give Hyunjin gentle attention, a warm wet washcloth rubbing carefully over Hyunjin’s abdomen and lower, the space between his legs. Hyunjin, who suspects a real sex worker wouldn’t allow this, allows this very much. He watches Chan; Chan is focused and, Hyunjin thinks, happy. At least, over the course of their brief affair so far, the happiest Hyunjin has seen him. He really is so good to Hyunjin, Hyunjin really is so perfect for him, and there’s a fundamental miscommunication going on here but the room smells like sex and Chan is happy, he feels better, and all because of Hyunjin, who, for once, isn’t a disappointment. Hyunjin’s saving the day—he’s saving his own Prince Charming.
Chan 笑了起来,轻松而满足,Hyunjin 感觉到床下陷了一下,Chan 移动到下面,亲吻 Hyunjin 的髋骨,然后站起来。安静的沙沙声—水龙头开着,Chan 轻声哼着。Hyunjin 感觉自己还在摇摆不定,他应该为自己射得太快而感到尴尬,他也确实感到了,但是—Chan 是个懂得付出的人。最终脱光了衣服,他现在回来给 Hyunjin 温柔的关怀,用温暖湿润的毛巾小心地擦拭 Hyunjin 的腹部和下部,还有他双腿之间的空间。Hyunjin 怀疑一个真正的性工作者是不会允许这样做的,但他非常乐意接受。他看着 Chan;Chan 专心致志,Hyunjin 觉得他很开心。至少,在他们短暂的恋情中,这是 Hyunjin 见过他最开心的时刻。他对 Hyunjin 真的很好,Hyunjin 对他来说真的很完美,虽然这里存在着根本性的沟通问题,但房间里弥漫着性的气息,Chan 很开心,他感觉更好了,这都是因为 Hyunjin,这一次,他没有让人失望。Hyunjin 正在拯救这一天—他正在拯救他自己的白马王子。

Chan tosses the washcloth aside when done, then gets back on the bed, closer to the headboard this time, and looks askance at Hyunjin. “…Am I paying you to cuddle?”
Chan 在完成后把毛巾扔到一边,然后重新回到床上,这次更靠近床头板,斜眼看着 Hyunjin。“…我雇你来抱抱吗?”

“If you didn’t cuddle me, I’d give you your money back,” Hyunjin tells him, and worms into his arms. Chan makes a pleased noise. He’s a man entirely without irony, and his shame about existing in an external world doesn’t affect his private, true self. How Hyunjin envies him.

Hyunjin can hear his heartbeat through his ribs, and, curlicued with Chan, he rests his hand on Chan’s stomach. His skin—there’s no non-serial-killer way to express that Hyunjin wants to live inside it, but Chan’s skin is warm, smooth, sparsely peppered with an occasional beauty mark or very old hopefully-accidental scar, and it would be such a nice home. Hyunjin nuzzles into his chest, and Chan’s holding him so well, pressed a kiss to the top of Hyunjin’s head seemingly without thinking about it.
Hyunjin 可以透过他的肋骨听到自己的心跳声,与 Chan 交缠在一起,他把手放在 Chan 的胃上。他的皮肤——没有非连环杀手的方式来表达 Hyunjin 想要住在里面,但 Chan 的皮肤温暖、光滑,偶尔点缀着一颗美丽的痣或者非常古老但希望是意外的伤疤,这将是一个如此美好的家。Hyunjin 把脸埋进他的胸膛,Chan 抱着他得很好,似乎不经意地在 Hyunjin 的头顶亲吻了一下。

Hyunjin’s heart constricts painfully, and he gently rubs his smooth calves against Chan’s bristly ones. He can’t resist. It’s wrong, but he needs to know, and it’s a plausible question given the thesis Chan has just laid out for him—he asks, “Better than Felix?”
Hyunjin 的心剧烈收缩,他轻轻地用光滑的小腿擦着 Chan 毛茸茸的腿。他忍不住。这是错误的,但他需要知道,考虑到 Chan 刚刚为他提出的论点,这是一个合理的问题——他问:“比 Felix 好吗?”

“Felix and I never did anything,” Chan answers, in a tone so calm and measured, unblushing, that he almost sounds like a different person. “It was all very chaste. We kissed a little, we had a couple sleepovers, but it was basically no different to how we normally are, being best friends. Super PG.”
“Felix 和我什么都没做过,”Chan 平静而谨慎地回答,毫不羞涩,几乎听起来像是另一个人。“一切都非常纯洁。我们亲了一点,睡了几次在一起,但基本上和我们平时的相处没有什么不同,因为我们是最好的朋友。非常适合全年龄段的。”

“Oh.” Wait, what? But Felix had gone so pink when Hyunjin had made eyes at him about staying the night at Chan’s! Who’s lying? Not Chan, definitely not Chan. Maybe Felix wanted Hyunjin to think they’d fucked, or he’d known Hyunjin would think that anyway and he was embarrassed about it? Hyunjin’s frowning, hidden safely in Chan’s shoulder. “Why not?”
“哦。”等等,什么?但是当 Hyunjin 对着 Felix 暗示在 Chan 那里过夜时,Felix 的脸涨得那么红!谁在撒谎?绝对不是 Chan,绝对不是 Chan。也许 Felix 想让 Hyunjin 认为他们上过床,或者他知道 Hyunjin 无论如何都会这么想,而且他为此感到尴尬?Hyunjin 皱着眉头,安全地藏在 Chan 的肩膀里。“为什么不呢?”

“Haha,” Chan says, which isn’t really a laugh. He shrugs, but is careful not to dislodge Hyunjin. He’s being very careful with him in general. It’s very sweet. “Um, it’s not that I’m not attracted to him—it’s just never really been about that with Felix, for me. And I thought we’d… be together for a while. Like, that there was no rush. So I wanted to take things slow, and obviously, now we know that he wouldn’t have wanted to anyway, so.” He shrugs again.
“哈哈,” 陈说,这并不是真正的笑声。他耸了耸肩,但小心不要把贤真弄掉。他对他非常小心。这很体贴。“嗯,并不是我不被他吸引——对我来说,对费利克来说,从来不是关于这个的。我以为我们会在一起一段时间。就像,我们不用着急。所以我想慢慢来,显然,现在我们知道他也不会想要,所以。” 他又耸了耸肩。

This time, Hyunjin dislodges himself. He gets close, nips at Chan’s ear. “Lucky me,” he breathes, and that makes Chan laugh an actual laugh. He’s so lush—Hyunjin can’t stay away from him for long, and lies back down with him, hands slipping over his lower stomach, petting up his chest. When Chan has his arm around him like this, Hyunjin really feels like he belongs. He recalls Felix’s description of spending time with Chan—it feels like we’re an old couple, all domestic and boring. How wrong he’d been. Being an old couple with Chan would be anything but boring.
这一次,贤真挪开了自己。他靠近,轻咬陈的耳朵。“我真幸运,” 他呢喃着,这让陈发出了真正的笑声。他是如此迷人—贤真离不开他太久,又和他躺在一起,手在他的下腹滑动,抚摸着他的胸膛。当陈这样搂着他时,贤真真的感觉自己属于他。他回想起费利克对和陈在一起的描述——感觉我们就像一对老夫老妻,一切都是那么平淡无奇。他是多么错误。和陈成为一对老夫老妻绝不会无聊。

Hyunjin is about to let his hand trail even lower and see if he can interest Chan in going again when there’s a knock at the door, and a voice in the hallway: “Room service!”

Chan and Hyunjin look at each other, startled. “Did you order something?” Hyunjin asks. “Am I not room service enough for you?”

Chan laughs and shakes his head. Hyunjin detects a note of anxiety in his expression, so he gently nuzzles Chan’s cheek again, then slips out of the bed. There’s a pleasant soreness in his limbs—like after a tough rehearsal, in the early days, before his spirit started cracking—and he catches a glimpse of himself in the bathroom mirror as he snags a plush hotel bathrobe from the back of the door and swirls it around himself. It’s only a sliver of a glimpse, but he likes what he sees very much. He looks debauched. He looks powerful. He looks good.

The oafish bellboy behind the door doesn’t seem to think so, though; he raises his eyebrows when Hyunjin opens up, and he looks like he’s trying not to laugh. Or maybe that’s just the natural shape of his cheeks. “Room service,” he repeats insistently.

“We didn’t order anything,” Hyunjin says.

“Oh, yeah, I know. This is on the house,” explains the bellboy—his upside-down nametag reading ⅁NՈSI. He gestures to his cart, on which is a plate of sweating chocolate-covered strawberries and a bottle of cheap champagne. “Newlywed package. You two are the Reynoldses, right? Minho sent me up.”

“What is it?” comes Chan’s voice from the room.

Hyunjin stares at the cart, and then up at the smarmy little bellboy. He knows exactly what this is: an insult. A dagger, to undercut Hyunjin’s success. To remind him that he’s nothing to Chan, not really—even calling him a friend had been a lie. And Minho knows it; knows what Hyunjin really is; had seen right through him. This could be a peace offering, but it isn’t. It’s just mean. Hyunjin is so hurt and angry he’s gone perfectly still, trying to think of how best to react, how to icily and graciously eviscerate this Jisung character so he’ll run crying back to Minho, and his thoughts are so ambiguously, blindly enraged that he doesn’t even recognize himself, but—here comes Chan, a light touch to the back of Hyunjin’s waist as he joins him in the doorway, wearing the second of the provided bathrobes. “It’s for us,” Hyunjin says softly.
Hyunjin 盯着手推车,然后看向那个自以为是的小行李员。他清楚这是什么:一种侮辱。一把匕首,削弱 Hyunjin 的成功。提醒他在 Chan 眼中算不了什么,甚至称他为朋友都是谎言。而 Minho 知道;知道 Hyunjin 真正的身份;看穿了他。这可能是一种和解的表示,但并不是。只是刻薄。Hyunjin 受伤又愤怒,他一动不动,试图想出最佳反应方式,如何冷酷而优雅地击败这个 Jisung,让他伤心地跑回 Minho 那里,他的思绪如此模糊,盲目地愤怒,以至于他甚至认不出自己,但——Chan 来了,轻轻碰了一下 Hyunjin 腰后,穿着提供的第二件浴袍加入他站在门口,“这是给我们的,”Hyunjin 轻声说。

“Whoa,” Chan says, squinting at the spread. “We… didn’t order this, though?”
“哇,”Chan 眯着眼看着这一切。“可是...我们没有点这个,对吧?”

“Look, do you want it or not? I have other shit to deliver,” Jisung says, exasperated, even though the rest of the cart is visibly empty, and he glances down at it at the same time as Hyunjin does, and their eyes meet; Jisung, caught in his moronic lie, just shrugs.
“看,你要还是不要?我还有其他东西要送,”Jisung 说,恼火地说,尽管手推车上明显是空的,他和 Hyunjin 同时看向手推车,他们的目光相遇;Jisung 被他愚蠢的谎言抓住,只能耸耸肩。

Chan leans forward a bit over Hyunjin’s shoulder to see it better. “Well,” he says thoughtfully, “I’m definitely not drinking—Paris, do you…?”
Chan 稍微俯身靠近 Hyunjin 的肩膀,以便更好地看清楚。“嗯,”他若有所思地说,“我肯定不喝—Paris,你呢…?”

“No, thank you,” Hyunjin says. He keeps his eyes on the cart. He doesn’t want to know if Jisung thinks his name is fake. “But I suppose we could take the strawberries.”
“不用了,谢谢。”Hyunjin 说道。他的目光一直盯着推车。他不想知道 Jisung 是否认为他的名字是假的。“但我想我们可以拿些草莓。”

“Great,” Jisung says and thrusts the plastic-wrapped plate into Hyunjin’s hands. “And you for sure don’t want the bubbly?”
“太好了,”Jisung 说着,把包裹着的盘子塞到 Hyunjin 手里。“你肯定不想要气泡酒吗?”

“Hey, you’re welcome to it,” Chan offers kindly, which would not have been what Hyunjin decided, but Chan is such a good and warm-hearted person, it just makes him melt. He’s turning back to smile at Chan as Jisung, under his breath, says “wa-hoo!” and immediately pops the cork to pour champagne directly into his mouth. According to Chan, Hyunjin-as-Paris is skilled at making someone feel wanted; Chan himself has a similar power, wherein he can make the world feel as compact and safe as just one room, where no one else is allowed, where no one else exists. Minho’s insult doesn’t matter—neither does Jisung’s bored sass. All that matters is the way Chan is smiling at him.
“嘿,你可以拿去,” 陈友善地提议道,这并不是黄仁决定的方式,但陈是如此善良和热心,让他感到融化。他转身微笑着看着陈,而在他耳边,Jisung 低声说着“哇呼!” 立刻打开瓶塞,将香槟直接倒进嘴里。根据陈的说法,黄仁作为巴黎的形象擅长让人感到被需要;陈本人也有类似的力量,他可以让整个世界感觉像只有一个房间那样紧凑和安全,没有其他人被允许进入,没有其他人存在。闵浩的侮辱无关紧要 — 吉成的无聊嘲讽也一样。重要的是陈微笑看着他的方式。

“Congrats, enjoy,” Jisung calls, already halfway down the hall, taking another noisy slug from the glass bottle.
“恭喜,尽情享受,”Jisung 喊道,已经走到走廊的一半,从玻璃瓶中又大口地喝了一口。

Hyunjin doesn’t care. He sways into the room and closes the door, leaning in so warm against Chan, smiling. Chan’s arm is around his waist, and the haphazard way his bathrobe is tied reveals a gold expanse of chest. They go back to the bed and sit by the headboard like girl best friends, and Hyunjin makes quick work of the plastic wrap over the strawberries. He gathers the green leaves of one berry into a bundle, and holds the chocolate tip up to Chan’s lips. “Oh, I shouldn’t,” Chan says, but bites anyway, his dimples deep, eyes sparkling.
Hyunjin 不在乎。他摇摆着走进房间,关上门,靠在 Chan 身上,微笑着。Chan 的手臂搂着他的腰,他邋遢地系着浴袍,露出一片金色的胸膛。他们回到床上,坐在床头像女孩般的好朋友,Hyunjin 迅速地打开草莓上的塑料薄膜。他把一个草莓的绿叶捆成一束,把巧克力尖端递到 Chan 的嘴唇前。“哦,我不应该吃。”Chan 说,但还是咬了下去,他的酒窝深深,眼睛闪闪发光。

It really is like they’re newlyweds. It really is like their honeymoon. Hyunjin bites the same berry Chan just had; he imagines the taste of Chan’s mouth. After Chan just pinned him down, bent him in half, fucked him absolutely gooey, it’s unexpectedly bitter to realize that Felix still has Hyunjin beat—he’s felt the press of Chan’s plush lips against his own, and Hyunjin hasn’t. But Hyunjin keeps smiling anyway. He licks chocolate from the pad of his own thumb, and watches Chan’s eyes tracking the movement of his tongue. “How was your week?” Hyunjin asks, presenting Chan with another berry.
他们真的像新婚夫妇一样。他们真的像度蜜月一样。Hyunjin 咬了刚才 Chan 吃过的同一个草莓;他想象着 Chan 嘴唇的味道。在 Chan 刚刚将他按倒,弯曲他,把他搞得一团糟之后,意识到 Felix 仍然比 Hyunjin 更胜一筹——他感受到了 Chan 丰盈嘴唇对自己的压迫,而 Hyunjin 却没有。但 Hyunjin 还是保持微笑。他舔了舔自己大拇指上的巧克力,看着 Chan 的眼睛追踪着他舌头的动作。“你这周过得怎么样?”Hyunjin 问道,递给 Chan 另一个草莓。

“My—week?” Chan says. “Are you making small talk?”
“我的—这周?”Chan 说。“你在闲聊吗?”

Hyunjin shrugs a little, bites after Chan bites. “You went so deep last time”—he relishes making the words sound dirty, and the way Chan has to dodge eye contact, blushing—“that we completely skipped past the basics. And, well, I bet you and your ex haven’t been seeing each other much, hm? You must be missing just having simple conversations about your day-to-day life with your best friend. Let me take over. Fill me in.”
黄仁耸了耸肩,跟着陈咬了一口。“上次你进展得如此深入” — 他喜欢让这些话听起来下流,以及陈不得不躲避眼神,脸红 — “我们完全跳过了基础。嗯,我打赌你和你的前任没怎么见面,是吧?你一定在怀念和你最好的朋友简单聊聊日常生活的时光。让我来接手。告诉我。”

Chan’s jaw has slightly dropped open. “Do you, like,” he says, swallowing, “have a PhD in psychology or something?”
Chan 的下巴微微张开。“你,像,”他说着,吞咽了口水,“有心理学博士学位吗?”

Hyunjin laughs. His head falls back, and his bathrobe invitingly yawns open. “Only a Bachelor’s,” he says, the lie coming to him so easily it should be frightening. “Most of us do.”
Hyunjin 笑了。他的头往后仰,他的浴袍诱人地敞开。“只有学士学位,”他说,谎言出口如此轻松,以至于应该令人恐惧。“我们大多数人都有。”

Chan nods so seriously. “That makes so much sense. It’s gotta be all about reading people, right? I mean—not to mansplain your own job to you—”

“No, you’re exactly right,” Hyunjin says, putting another strawberry in front of Chan’s mouth so as to stop this self-conscious rambling in its tracks. Chan bites. “You have to be a quick judge of character and know what people need before they’re even aware they need something. Really, it’s not that different from any other customer-facing job.”

“Fascinating,” Chan, chewing but politely covering his mouth, says in all earnestness. “What did you—is it okay for me to ask…?”

“You can ask me anything, Chan,” Hyunjin says, dipping his head to catch his eye. “In the extremely unlikely event I don’t want to answer, I just won’t. Okay? You never have to be shy with me. That’s the whole point, right?” He smiles, to remind him how pretty he is when he smiles.
“你可以问我任何事,Chan,”Hyunjin 说着,低下头来,试图吸引他的目光。“在极不可能的情况下,如果我不想回答,我就不会回答。好吗?你永远不必在我面前害羞。这才是重点,对吧?”他微笑着,提醒他自己微笑时是多么美丽。

“Right,” Chan says, and obviously can’t help but smile back. Now it’s his turn to feed Hyunjin a strawberry, and Hyunjin gets overambitious and puts his lips around the whole thing, so Chan nearly drops the leafy part to the bed, not having expected that. Mouth way too full of strawberry now, Hyunjin tries to maintain his dignity and chews calmly, while Chan, only marginally flustered, picks back up where he left off: “I just was curious about—what you did before this, by way of customer-facing jobs? Again, if it’s okay for me to ask about things like that.”
“对,”Chan 说,显然忍不住也笑了。现在轮到他喂 Hyunjin 一个草莓了,Hyunjin 变得过于雄心勃勃,把嘴唇贴在整个草莓上,Chan 几乎把叶子部分掉到床上,没料到会这样。现在嘴里塞满了草莓,Hyunjin 试图保持尊严,平静地咀嚼,而 Chan,只是稍微慌乱,继续说:“我只是好奇——在这之前,你做过什么和顾客打交道的工作?再次,如果问这种事可以的话。”

Hyunjin looks at him sternly and Chan sheepishly giggles. But Hyunjin answers anyway, his planned answer about art school flying out the fucking window, as he stretches and sighs, “I was a flight attendant.”
Hyunjin 看着他严肃地,Chan 羞怯地笑了。但 Hyunjin 还是回答了,原本计划好的关于艺术学校的答案飞出了该死的窗外,他伸了个懒腰,叹了口气,“我曾是一名空乘。”

Wow, Chan mouths noiselessly.
哇,Chan 无声地嘴巴动了动。

“That’s how I got into this, actually,” Hyunjin goes on. Where is this gift for improvisation in rehearsal, when the mistresses demand creativity and Hyunjin’s joints lock up? “So often, we’d stay in the same fancy hotels as the business-class passengers, and, well… one thing led to another. It was all about reading people, like you said.”
“其实,正是因为这个,我才进入这个行业的,”Hyunjin 继续说道。排练时这种即兴表演的天赋在哪里呢?当女主们要求创造力时,Hyunjin 的关节却僵硬了。“我们经常和商务舱乘客住在同一家豪华酒店,然后,嗯…事情就发展了下去。就像你说的,这一切都是关于读懂人心的。”

“I bet,” Chan says. He shakes his head, contemplative. “What was your favorite, like, route, or—”
“我敢打赌,”Chan 说道。他摇了摇头,若有所思。“你最喜欢的,比如,路线是什么,或者—”

“Chan,” Hyunjin says. He’s smiling lightly, verging on a sneaky little smirk. “It’s not going to work. I still want to hear about your week.”
“Chan,”Hyunjin 说道。他微笑着,眼神中透着一丝狡黠的笑意。“这招行不通。我还是想听听你这周发生了什么。”

Chan falters. “Wh—what’s not going to work?”
Chan 犹豫了一下。“什—什么行不通?”

“This thing you’re trying to do,” Hyunjin says. “Switching the focus of the conversation away from you and onto me. Don’t think I didn’t notice.”

Chan, steadily, is going red. This is another fine line: getting Chan under the microscope, but not turning the light up so bright that he starts to roast. “Do I… was I doing that?” he tries feebly.

Hyunjin nods, reaching out to pet his fingers down the back of Chan’s hand. “I’m interested in you,” he tells him, just as soft and serious as he’d been as they left the bar last week, his voice dropping even more into an intimate hush-hush whisper. “Remember? I’ll never be bored by you. You can tell me anything—read me the phone book—and I’ll hang on your every word.”

“Paris,” Chan whispers—clearly wanting to give in, clearly struggling with just how much he wants to. “But that’s—isn’t that—pathetic? Just paying you to let me talk?”
“巴黎,”Chan 低声说道——显然想屈服,显然在努力控制自己有多想要。“但那—那不是—可悲吗?只是付钱让你听我说话?”

“I’m not even going to dignify that with a response,” Hyunjin sighs. He leans back, stretches out, rests his head on one of the pillows. Chan still looks hesitant, but Hyunjin just blinks at him expectantly. “We can do this all night, but there are much more pleasant ways to spend the time, don’t you think?”
“我甚至不想 dignify 那个回答,” 玧振叹了口气。 他往后靠,伸展身体,把头靠在一个枕头上。 陈看起来仍然犹豫不决,但玧振只是期待地眨了眨眼。 “我们可以整晚这样,但还有更愉快的方式来度过时间,你不觉得吗?”

Maybe that’s playing dirty, but this is otherwise a classic case of unstoppable force versus immovable object—and it works; Chan starts to yield, fidgeting with the discarded plastic wrap from the strawberries because it must be easier than looking Hyunjin’s desire in the eye. “My week was… not great,” he says, slow, quiet. “But honestly, the fact that I had something to look forward to did make it better. Last time, did I mention that I hate my job? Yeah? It’s just about as dreary and bland as I deserve, I guess, and most of the time it’s manageable, but it’s obviously felt way harder to manage since the whole Felix thing went down. So mostly, this week and in general, I forced myself to go through my daily routine so I didn’t literally fall apart, and then, eventually, I ended up here. It’s not all bad. I made a couple killer salads.”

He smiles slightly, as though that’s not the saddest, most heartwrenching thing Hyunjin has ever heard. But Hyunjin has to really sell it, that it’s not wrenching his heart at all. That it sounds fun and normal, and that he wishes he could have been there the whole time—which, actually, he does. Being Chan’s manic pixie dream girl—it’s coming to him too easily. “What’s your salad secret?” he asks.
他微微一笑,仿佛那不是 Hyunjin 听过的最悲伤、最令人心碎的事情。但 Hyunjin 必须真正表现出来,这一点并没有伤害到他的心。听起来很有趣和正常,他希望自己一直都在那里——实际上,他是的。成为 Chan 的疯狂小仙女——这对他来说太容易了。“你的沙拉秘诀是什么?”他问。

Chan’s eyes are on his lips again. It was very much the right thing for Hyunjin to ask; the tension around Chan’s eyebrows is loosening, and he’s leaning back on his elbow, smiling more naturally at Hyunjin. “Fancy vinegar,” he says. “Pomegranate, or yuzu… it makes all the difference, even if the actual ingredients are really boring.”
Chan 的目光再次落在他的嘴唇上。Hyunjin 问这个问题非常合适;Chan 眉头上的紧张感正在减轻,他靠在手肘上,更自然地对 Hyunjin 微笑着。“高级醋,”他说。“石榴或柚子…这真的很有区别,即使实际的成分非常无聊。”

Sounds like something Hyunjin would do. “I’ll have to give that a shot,” he murmurs, offering Chan another strawberry. They’re down to the last two. Chan bites. “Should I text you when I do, hm? Keep in touch until you see me next?” He thumbs an artificially-pink drip of strawberry juices from the corner of Chan’s mouth.

“Oh,” Chan says once he’s swallowed. “I hadn’t really thought about that.” Hyunjin, who knows Chan hadn’t thought about texting him because Chan hadn’t texted him, just nods placidly. “I’m… not sure, Paris. I wouldn’t want to take up too much of your time—”
"“哦,”Chan 吞了口口水后说。“我真的没有想过这个。”知道 Chan 没有想过发短信给他因为 Chan 没有发短信给他的 Hyunjin 只是平静地点点头。“我...不确定,巴黎。我不想占用你太多时间—”

Chan—” “灿—”

“—or get too dependent on talking to you.” Chan fidgets. “I mean, I really think I could.”
“——或者变得太依赖和你说话。”Chan 焦躁不安地动来动去。“我是说,我真的觉得我可能会。”

Now it’s Hyunjin’s turn to blush. He’s sure Chan hadn’t intended that as a compliment; still, it makes Hyunjin glow. “I’m here for you,” he tells him softly, “however you want me to be.”
现在轮到 Hyunjin 脸红了。他确信 Chan 并不是想当作赞美;但这话让 Hyunjin 感到温暖。“我会在这里支持你,”他轻声告诉他,“无论你想要我怎样。”

“Yeah,” Chan says, just as softly. Kissing distance, but no kissing—God, Hyunjin is going to lose what little of his mind he has left.
“是的,”Chan 同样轻声说道。只有一吻之隔,但却没有吻——天啊,Hyunjin 快要失去他所剩不多的理智了。

“And think of it this way,” Hyunjin adds with a smile. “If you text me, then next time, I won’t have to interrogate you about how your week was.”
“再想想吧,”Hyunjin 微笑着补充道。“如果你发短信给我,下次我就不用盘问你这周过得怎么样了。”

Chan laughs, too. It’s remarkable—watching Hyunjin make him comfortable. He looks up at Hyunjin through his eyelashes, warmly. “You can interrogate me,” he says. “I don’t mind. I—I like the way you talk to me.”
"Chan 也笑了。这真是令人惊讶的—看着 Hyunjin 让他感到舒适。他透过眼睫温柔地看着 Hyunjin。“你可以审问我,”他说。“我不介意。我—我喜欢你和我交谈的方式。”

“Oh, yeah? How’s that?” “哦,是吗?那是怎么样的?”

“Like I’m not”—Chan swallows—“boring you.”
“就好像我不是”—Chan 吞了口水—“在让你觉得无聊。”

Hyunjin lets instinct take over, and tuts his tongue like a stern teacher, and even though he thinks it sounds ridiculous, Chan flushes strawberry-pink, so it must not be that bad. Hyunjin tucks his fingers through Chan’s fringe, pushes it needlessly out of his forehead. “You are anything but boring,” Hyunjin murmurs. Chan, to all Hyunjin’s praise, reacts like an animal that’s used to being hit; he flinches, even as he leans in hoping for a softer touch. Hyunjin strokes his fingers along Chan’s cheek, past the point under his jaw where he’d missed a spot shaving last time he’d seen him—today, it’s smooth. Hyunjin pets him there again. Chan is reacting well—curling closer, seeking out warmth. Hyunjin’s seeking his warmth, too. He wants it to melt him from the inside out. He moves the plate of strawberries away from between them; the singular remaining strawberry slips over the porcelain and tumbles onto the bedsheets. Chan makes a small noise, but Hyunjin stops him from moving, distracting him with a toying hand on the tie of his bathrobe. “Now,” Hyunjin breathes, “earlier—what did you say you wanted to do? I forgot…”
Hyunjin 让本能接管,像一位严厉的老师般咂舌,尽管他觉得自己听起来荒谬,但 Chan 的脸颊却泛起草莓般的粉红,所以情况应该不会太糟糕。Hyunjin 将手指梳过 Chan 的刘海,不必要地将它从额头上拨开。“你绝对不会无聊,”Hyunjin 低语道。对于 Hyunjin 的赞美,Chan 的反应就像是一个习惯于被打击的动物;他畏缩了一下,却还是希望得到柔和的触碰。Hyunjin 用手指轻抚着 Chan 的脸颊,经过他下巴下面上次见到他时漏掉的刮胡子的地方——今天,皮肤光滑。Hyunjin 再次抚摸那里。Chan 的反应很好——他更加靠近,寻找温暖。Hyunjin 也在寻找他的温暖。他希望它能从内心融化他。他将盘子里的草莓移开;最后一个草莓从瓷盘上滑落到床单上。Chan 发出了一声轻微的声音,但 Hyunjin 阻止他移动,用手玩弄着他浴袍的领带,分散他的注意力。“现在,”Hyunjin 呢喃道,“刚才—你说你想做什么?我忘了…”

Chan says, “Heh,” which shouldn’t get Hyunjin hot, but does. “This might jog your memory.” For a man with such debilitatingly low self-esteem, he really can be quite suave. With that, he slides down the bed with his mouth already open.
Chan 说,“嘿”,这本不该让 Hyunjin 感到兴奋,但却让他兴奋起来。“这可能会唤起你的记忆。”对于一个自尊心如此低的男人来说,他真的可以很风趣。说完,他已经张着嘴滑下床去。

Hyunjin closes his eyes. He lets Chan undo him. Ryan and Paris Reynolds, newlyweds. It’s almost too good to be true.
Hyunjin 闭上眼睛。他让 Chan 解开他。Ryan 和 Paris Reynolds,新婚夫妇。这几乎太美好以至难以置信。




They fuck one more time, after that; Hyunjin’s pliant and sleepy, and although Chan keeps apologizing for not letting him go to bed, he’s as hard as ever inside him. Hyunjin thinks he can turn this into a game next time—break out the edging if Chan starts refusing to be selfish, the way he is right now. But it’s not taking all that much coaxing. Chan is pressed behind him, his arms hitched tight around Hyunjin’s waist, one hand flattening across his chest. They could fall asleep just like this—stay just like this forever—who would miss them? Who would know? Hyunjin sucks on Chan’s fingers while Chan is shooting into the condom. Chan’s breath is hot against his neck, and all his touches are so gentle. As he stays buried inside, he thanks Hyunjin, which is deeply sexually potent, the perfect inverse of his constant baseless apologies. Hyunjin is making Chan feel wanted and needed, but—there’s something to be said for how powerful Chan makes Hyunjin feel.
他们再次做爱,之后;Hyunjin 变得柔顺而昏昏欲睡,尽管 Chan 一直在道歉没有让他去睡觉,但他仍然像之前一样坚挺地在他体内。Hyunjin 觉得下次可以把这变成一个游戏——如果 Chan 开始拒绝自私,像他现在这样,就尝试边缘控制。但并不需要太多劝说。Chan 紧贴在他身后,双臂紧紧搂着 Hyunjin 的腰,一只手平放在他的胸前。他们可以就这样入睡——永远保持这样——谁会想念他们?谁会知道?Hyunjin 吮吸着 Chan 的手指,而 Chan 则在安全套里射精。Chan 的呼吸在他的脖子上灼热,他的每一次触碰都是那么温柔。当他依然深深地在内部时,他感谢 Hyunjin,这是深具性吸引力的,完美地颠倒了他不断的毫无根据的道歉。Hyunjin 让 Chan 感到被需要和渴望,但——Chan 让 Hyunjin 感到多么强大,这也是有意义的。




“It’s all yours,” Chan says, emerging from the bathroom with a slightly damp, buffed face—evidently, he’d been washing his face while, per Hyunjin’s dainty request, he ran the bath. He looks young; he looks better, as if both a physical and a spiritual layer of skin has been scrubbed off.
“全是你的了,” 陈说着,从浴室走出来,脸上微微湿润,擦得发亮——显然,他一边洗脸,一边按照贤真的娇小要求,给浴缸加水。他看起来年轻了;他看起来更好了,仿佛一层肉体和精神的皮肤都被擦掉了。

“Mmm, thank you,” Hyunjin says, stretching indulgently. “If I fall asleep in the bath, will you carry me to bed?”

Chan laughs, shortly. “I can bath-sit you,” he offers, then immediately panics and walks it back: “I mean, obviously you probably want your privacy, so I’ll just wait out—”

“Baby, with how good you fucked me, I’m not letting you out of my sight.” Hyunjin grins up at Chan, and after another satisfying, feline stretch, sits himself upright. “C’mon. You think we’ll both fit in the tub?”

Chan’s eyes, delightfully, run all the long way down Hyunjin’s legs; once they run back up to Hyunjin’s face, he mutely shakes his head, but he’s also coming over to the side of the bed to help Hyunjin walk. His arm around Hyunjin’s waist. Hyunjin doesn’t need help walking at all—ostensibly, his body takes a worse thrashing on the daily—but he exaggerates the weakness in his thighs, and gratefully leans into Chan’s side.

“Worth a shot, though? I don’t mind getting close,” Hyunjin says, in nearly a Marilyn Monroe-esque throaty whisper.

Chan opens the bathroom door for him, bringing Hyunjin into the steam, a reverse Aphrodite. “Haven’t you gotten me into enough mischief already?” he murmurs.

“Never enough,” Hyunjin says, and just to twist the knife, drops his head to kiss at Chan’s neck. But Chan is probably right—the tub isn’t the biggest, and as much as he’d love to get cuddly and naughty in the water, he really might drift off. Usually, by this time on a Friday night, he’s fast asleep against a salt-damp pillow. He can’t deny that this is a nice change of pace, though, and his smile is soft and private as Chan provides a steady, strong barre for him to grasp onto while he lowers himself into the hot water.

His eyes slipping closed, he hears Chan’s chuckle; belatedly, it registers that he’d let out a pornographic groan of relief as his muscles melted. “It doesn’t feel as good as you, don’t be jealous,” Hyunjin says, smiling, without opening his eyes.

“I’m not jealous,” Chan laughs. There’s the quiet scrape of something against the floor—furniture. The puff-stool for sitting on while doing one’s makeup. Chan sits, and Hyunjin feels the gentle ripple of the water as Chan dips his fingers inside, just to double-check that it’s a good temperature. “It makes me feel good to see you feeling good. And, well, if it’s because of me, that’s just a cherry on top.”
“我不嫉妒,”Chan 笑着说。地板上传来轻微的刮擦声—家具。那个化妆时坐着用的蘑菇凳。Chan 坐下,Hyunjin 感受到水面轻轻泛起的涟漪,Chan 把手指浸入水中,只是为了再次确认水温是否适宜。“看到你感觉良好让我感到很开心。而且,如果是因为我,那就更是锦上添花。”

Hyunjin’s smile is too big, it must not be very pretty; he has to turn his head away. “You’re really just going to sit with me? I take long baths,” he warns.
Hyunjin 的笑容太灿烂了,可能不太好看;他不得不把头转开。“你真的要和我一起坐着吗?我泡澡时间很长的,”他警告道。

“I don’t mind,” Chan says. Again, the soft movement of his hand through the water, the tiny wave lapping up Hyunjin’s arm. “If you will actually fall asleep soon, then I’d rather spend time with you until you do, since I’ll… probably be up for a while.”
“我不介意,”Chan 说。他的手在水中轻轻移动,微小的波浪拍打在 Hyunjin 的手臂上。“如果你很快就会睡着,那我宁愿陪着你直到你入睡,因为我…可能会醒着一段时间。”

“You will? Not worn out? Wow, your stamina is something else,” Hyunjin sighs, leaning into the lasciviousness, and Chan laughs quietly.

“No, it’s not that, just—I dunno, I’m generally a big ol’ insomniac, my sleep schedule is fifty shades of fucked up,” Chan says, another thing Hyunjin now considers himself personally responsible for fixing. Before Hyunjin can leap into concerned cooing, though, Chan splashes lightly at the water. “It’s not too hot or anything?”
“不,不是这样,只是——我不知道,我通常失眠得厉害,我的睡眠时间表乱七八糟的,”Chan 说,另一件现在 Hyunjin 认为自己有责任去解决的事情。然而,在 Hyunjin 能够跳入关心的呢喃之前,Chan 轻轻在水里溅了一下。“不会太热了吧?”

“It’s perfect,” Hyunjin says.
“完美,”Hyunjin 说。

“Yeah,” Chan says. Without opening his eyes, Hyunjin can feel Chan’s gaze on him, prickling, shivering Hyunjin’s neurons. There’s a moment of quiet, the nonexistent reverb of their breath against the steamy air in the bathroom, against the rippled surface of the water. Chan says, softly, “You’re like… a mermaid I found washed up on the beach.”
“是的,”Chan 说。虽然没有睁开眼睛,Hyunjin 能感觉到 Chan 的目光落在他身上,刺痛着,让 Hyunjin 的神经颤动。有片刻的宁静,他们的呼吸声在浴室里弥漫,与蒸汽弥漫的空气相互交织,与水面泛起的涟漪相互呼应。Chan 轻声说:“你就像…一只被冲上海滩的美人鱼。”

Hyunjin can’t get hard again, it would hurt. “I love the way your mind works,” Hyunjin says. “What would you do?”
Hyunjin 再也无法勃起,那会很疼。“我喜欢你的思维方式,”Hyunjin 说。“你会怎么做?”

“Hm?” “嗯?”

“If you found me.” “如果你找到了我。”

Chan huffs a quiet laugh. “Um… this, basically. Bring you home, put you in the tub.”

“Nurse me back to health?”

A silence, in which Chan must nod. “I don’t know how good I’d be at that. But I’d do my best.”
一阵沉默,Chan 必须点头。“我不知道我在这方面能有多好。但我会尽力的。”

“I know you would.” Finally, Hyunjin opens his eyes. Chan is leaned closer to the tub, watching Hyunjin, and he smiles a little when he sees Hyunjin looking at him. Hyunjin says, “But then you’d just throw me back in? Let me swim away?”
“我知道你会的。”最终,Hyunjin 睁开了眼睛。Chan 靠近浴缸,看着 Hyunjin,当他看到 Hyunjin 看着他时微微一笑。Hyunjin 说:“但然后你会把我扔回去?让我游走?”

Chan shrugs, helplessly. “I’d never keep you from where you belong.”

Hyunjin reaches out of the water with a dripping hand, grasping onto Chan’s forearm tightly. “I’d just pull you in with me,” he breathes, and this is where a kiss would go, but it can’t, not yet, so he settles for a smile, and the effect it has on Chan—making him blush and dimple so sweetly, like a peach at sunrise—is very nearly satisfying enough.




Chan is an excellent big spoon, and Hyunjin can’t stop thinking about Felix—how he probably knows that already, even if not in this context, not bare skin against bare skin. He also can’t stop thinking about if Chan is thinking the same thing—comparing the two of them. If he’s wishing he had his arms around a different pretty little thing. How can a one-month PG-rated fling have made cuts so deep that they’re not even beginning to scab over? Chan isn’t asleep; Hyunjin can hear him thinking. It’s like his heartbeat against Hyunjin’s back is saying Fe-lix, Fe-lix. Hyunjin needs to translate it, steal it for himself. Hyun-jin, Hyun-jin. No—Pa-ris, Pa-ris. Right. He turns his head, he burrows into Chan’s thick, meaty arm. He lets it block out what little light is making it in past the curtains, and under the hallway door. The world doesn’t exist beyond this. He doesn’t have rehearsal the day after tomorrow, he won’t ever have to look Felix in the eye. It’s just the two of them, forever, at the bottom of the deep blue sea. Not a mermaid—a siren. He tugs Chan’s arms tighter around himself, and Chan’s lips are on his shoulder. He’ll be Chan’s therapist, his emotional punching bag, his doll, his decoration, his guardian angel, anything, so long as Chan keeps holding him like this.
陈是一个出色的大勺子,而贤真无法停止想着菲利克斯——他可能已经知道了,即使不是在这种情况下,也不是赤裸的皮肤相互接触。他也无法停止思考陈是否在想同样的事情——比较他们两个。他是否希望自己的手臂环绕着另一个漂亮小东西。一个月的 PG 级别的短暂恋情怎么会造成如此深的伤口,以至于它们甚至还没有开始结痂?陈没有入睡;贤真能听到他在思考。就像他的心跳在贤真的背上说着菲-利克斯,菲-利克斯。贤真需要翻译它,为自己窃取。贤-真,贤-真。不,巴-黎,巴-黎。对了。他转过头,钻进陈浓密肉厚的胳膊里。他让它挡住透过窗帘、透过走廊门口的微弱光线。世界在这之外不存在。后天他没有排练,他永远不必直视菲利克斯的眼睛。只有他们两个,永远,深蓝海底。不是美人鱼——是塞壬。他把陈的手臂更紧地搂在自己身上,陈的嘴唇贴在他的肩膀上。 他将成为灿的心理治疗师,他的情感出气筒,他的玩偶,他的装饰,他的守护天使,任何角色,只要灿继续像这样抱着他。




An alarm, and a quiet rustle, and a raspy “Shit, sorry, is that me?”

Hyunjin opens his eyes. He cannot let see Chan see him first thing in the morning—vulnerable and real. The alarm isn’t his own, so he turns his face to press into the pillow while Chan, behind him, groans out a yawn and fumbles around for his phone. The ringing is silenced, and Chan drops back down onto the bed, cuddling in behind Hyunjin like he’d never left. Once again, he mumbles, “Sorry.”
Hyunjin 睁开眼睛。他不能让灿第一时间看到他——脆弱而真实。闹钟不是他自己的,所以他把脸转向枕头,而灿在他身后,发出一声呵欠,摸索着找他的手机。铃声停了,灿重新躺在床上,像从未离开过一样依偎在 Hyunjin 身后。他再次嘟囔着,“抱歉。”

Hyunjin, now wide awake, will have to bide his time. He lets out the quietest, airiest sound, and counts his breathing—one, two, exhale, one, two, exhale. Why does Chan have an alarm set for Saturday mornings? Gym, medication? If it had come as a surprise, then maybe Chan, the incurable insomniac, had slept through the night. The pride makes Hyunjin buoyant, and he has to fight to keep his eyelids down and his breath steady. Once Chan’s own breath evens—although Hyunjin supposes he could be faking it, too—but no, Chan isn’t capable of faking anything—Hyunjin moves ever-so-slowly, so carefully, with all his hard-earned grace, to get out of the bed and creep into the bedroom, snatching up his bag along the way.

His reflection is a little rough. No rougher than an average morning. Hyunjin works quickly to smooth himself, literally and metaphorically. Barest touches of makeup, mostly just cream blush and color on his lips to make him look fresh. Careful, tousled hair-styling that’s plausibly woke-up-like-this but not actually disheveled. Beach sex hair, sun-kissed. He also peeks into the bag at Chan’s envelope and stifles hysterical giggling. God, how long can he keep this up for? What’s going to happen to his soul?
他的倒影有点模糊。比起一般的早晨没有更糟。Hyunjin 迅速地开始打理自己,无论是字面上还是比喻上。轻轻涂抹一些化妆品,主要是腮红和唇彩,让他看起来焕然一新。精心打理的凌乱发型,看起来像是刚睡醒一样,但实际上并不凌乱。沙滩上的性感发型,被阳光亲吻过。他还偷偷看了一眼陈的信封,忍住了歇斯底里的笑声。天啊,他能坚持多久?他的灵魂会发生什么事呢?

When he emerges, tiptoeing, Chan is fast asleep. He’s hugging a pillow. Hyunjin’s side tingles; Chan must have held him all night. Hyunjin’s seen this kind of movie before—where the sardonic love interest cracks an eye open and says something snappy. “You didn’t have to do all that just for little old me” or “Nice performance, I almost fell for it.” Maybe it was on Sex and the City. Regardless, that can’t be Hyunjin, so he moves one millimeter at a time to slip back into the bed. What time does “overnight” end, he wonders? Another tightrope to walk—giving Chan everything he needs, while still leaving more to want. Maybe he should wake Chan up and tell him he’s leaving soon. But if he knows Chan—and he feels like he’s getting there—he should stay, because a cozy, lazy, romantic morning together is something Chan yearns for. Hyunjin knows, because it’s something he yearns for, too.

Lifting Chan’s arm to wrap around himself in lieu of the pillow makes Chan stir, but Hyunjin whispers, “No, go back to sleep.”

“What time is it?” Chan whispers back.

“Time to go back to sleep,” Hyunjin murmurs. He slots his fingers with Chan’s and shivers as Chan gets close, hugs Hyunjin warmer than the pillow. Chan’s lips are against the back of Hyunjin’s shoulder, and Hyunjin can nearly feel his eyelashes—struggling closed, or open? There’s a moment of stillness, and Hyunjin could melt so easily, would leave makeup smears on the pillowcase if it means he gets more peace with Chan, but Chan moves again, gives Hyunjin a light squeeze, kisses his shoulder softly. Hyunjin hums. “Did I wake you?”

“I woke you first,” Chan murmurs. His voice—his accent—it’s so much gentler in the mornings. He sounds slightly congested, young. Hyunjin’s chest constricts, but that’s also because Chan is still squeezing him. “Paris. Can you stay a little while?”
“我先叫醒你的,”Chan 低声说道。他的声音——他的口音——在早晨时分显得如此温柔。他听起来有点堵塞,年轻。Hyunjin 的胸膛收紧了,但也因为 Chan 仍然在紧紧地拥抱着他。“巴黎。你能待一会儿吗?”

Jesus, when was the last time Hyunjin had morning sex? When was Hyunjin’s last boyfriend? He wrinkles his nose slightly in thought, and stalls Chan: “You have something specific in mind, hm?”
天啊,Hyunjin 上一次早晨做爱是什么时候?Hyunjin 上一个男朋友是什么时候?他略微皱起鼻子思考了一下,然后拖延着 Chan 说:“你有什么具体想法吗,嗯?”

“Breakfast,” Chan says. “I won’t keep you long. I know you’re busy. Do you drink coffee?”
“早餐,”Chan 说道。“我不会耽搁你太久。我知道你很忙。你喝咖啡吗?”

So Chan wakes up fast. Hyunjin does, too, but he’s not happy about it the way Chan seems to be. Or maybe Chan’s only happy because of the company; Hyunjin hopes that’s why. He turns his head, nuzzles into Chan’s arm. Until he found out that Chan wanted him for the whole night, his only plans for Saturday had been hyperventilating. Now, that’s certainly still on the agenda, but—yes, after breakfast. “Yes,” he breathes.

Chan kisses the back of his shoulder one more time, and Hyunjin, shivering, nearly purrs, but then Chan’s pulling away, getting up. Hyunjin rolls over onto his back so he can watch him moving around, and Chan, wrapping himself in one of the robes, startles at the sight of him; after a moment of wide-eyed staring, he blushes, and waves. Hyunjin blinks heavy, dewy eyelids and flickers his fingers at him in return. Chan, his hair flat on one side and curly on the other, looks enormously well-rested, and says, “Does the—what we talked about last night—apply to non-sex, too? Can I… do you mind if I’m really, like—I just like taking care of people, and—”

“Please just make me coffee, Chan,” Hyunjin sighs, playing dirty and stretching languorously. “I’d love to laze around while you get me breakfast in bed.”
“请给我泡咖啡,灿。” 灿听到这话,贤真叹了口气,玩起了心机,慵懒地伸了个懒腰。“我想懒散地躺着,你给我做早餐,送到床上来。”

Chan must assume he’s lying for money, because his grin is knowing, warm. Verging on indulgent. “I’m like a kid in a candy store,” he says, visibly wanting to kiss Hyunjin very much, but instead, off he bustles—grabbing the room service menu, calling downstairs for a breakfast platter for two, then crossing to battle it out with the surprisingly high-end coffee maker by the desk.

Hyunjin watches. He’s the candy store; he’s the wonderland where Chan gets to frolic. But—the inverse is also true, of course. The broad spread of Chan’s shoulderblades, which Hyunjin gets to grip onto while Chan fucks him. The curl of his hair, such a nice hand-hold. His waist, his thighs, his wrists and hands. Soon, Hyunjin will know it all, just as Chan will know him. Hyunjin pulls the sheets tighter, eyes fixed on Chan like a compass pointing true north.
Hyunjin 看着。他是糖果店;他是 Chan 得以嬉戏的仙境。但——当然,反之亦然。Chan 宽阔的肩胛骨,Hyunjin 在他操他时可以抓住的地方。他卷曲的头发,是个不错的手握处。他的腰,他的大腿,他的手腕和手。很快,Hyunjin 会了解一切,就像 Chan 会了解他一样。Hyunjin 把床单拉得更紧,眼睛紧盯着 Chan,就像指向真北的指南针。

Chan makes him coffee. Chan brings it to him while Hyunjin, artfully wrapped in the sheet like a starlet, sits up to sip. Chan doesn’t drink coffee, he explains; even caffeinated tea makes him too wired. Hyunjin affects a sleepiness he doesn’t really feel—he, too, is used to early mornings—and just lets Chan idly chatter, greedy for the sound of his voice as it warms up. The dark circles under Chan’s eyes have lightened by perhaps two shades, and now they’re concord grape, as opposed to black plum. The breakfast platter comes, left at the door by a different bellboy. Chan has a bagel while Hyunjin elegantly pecks at a fruit cup, and they share a parfait, passing it back and forth. Hyunjin licks the spoon and thinks and thinks about Chan’s mouth.
Chan 给他冲咖啡。当 Hyunjin 像个明星一样包裹在被子里坐起来喝的时候,Chan 把咖啡端给他。Chan 不喝咖啡,他解释说;即使是含咖啡因的茶也会让他太兴奋。Hyunjin 假装困意,其实并不感到困倦——他也习惯了清晨;他只是任由 Chan 闲聊,贪婪地倾听他温暖的声音。Chan 眼睛下的黑眼圈可能淡了大约两个色阶,现在是葡萄酒红,而不是黑梅子色。早餐盘被送来,由另一个侍者放在门口。Chan 吃了一个百吉饼,而 Hyunjin 优雅地啄着水果杯,他们分享了一个冰淇淋杯,来回传递着。Hyunjin 舔了舔勺子,想着 Chan 的嘴。

How strange, that the outside world still stubbornly exists. That tomorrow, Hyunjin will be going back to rehearsal. The day after tomorrow, Chan will unhappily trudge to his office. Here, in this strange, cushioned space, Hyunjin feels outside of time, entirely open to every possibility, and he kisses Chan’s neck and slides his hands through the opening of his hotel robe just to touch him—not to initiate, so Chan will be left wanting, more keen to schedule a repeat right away—just to be close to him, to charge up for the next few days apart. Even as Hyunjin tells Chan that he’d dreamt about him, the outside world is rapidly encroaching; a phone keeps beeping from somewhere in the room, and it’s not Hyunjin’s.

Hyunjin had begun to worry about awkwardness, but actually, there isn’t any—Chan is treating him like a professional again. They dress, collect their things. Chan tidies up, naturally. Hyunjin should leave first. He bundles himself to the throat. He lingers in the doorway, where Chan had walked him, and then leans in for a slow, soft kiss to Chan’s cheek. It’s so close to brushing the edge of Chan’s plush mouth. That feeling of Chan’s hand on his hip—Hyunjin is going to miss it furiously all week long. He savors that final squeeze, and lets it embolden him into murmuring, “Same time next week?”
Hyunjin 开始担心尴尬,但实际上并没有——Chan 再次把他当作一个专业人士对待。他们穿好衣服,收拾东西。Chan 自然而然地整理一下。Hyunjin 应该先走。他把自己裹得严严实实。他在门口徘徊,Chan 曾经陪他走过的地方,然后慢慢地亲了一下 Chan 的脸颊。离 Chan 丰满嘴唇的边缘如此之近。感受到 Chan 手掌在他臀部的感觉——Hyunjin 整整一周都会非常想念。他品味着最后一次的紧握,让他大胆地低声说道,“下周同一时间见?”

Chan nods. Just as quietly, he says, “Please.”
Chan 点点头。同样轻声说道,“拜托了。”

The no-marks rule, Hyunjin thinks, might be the first one he has to break. He needs a physical reminder, that please made tangible. For now, all he does is press his hand on top of Chan’s, on his hip, and say, “Don’t miss me too much, baby.”
Hyunjin 认为,不能留下痕迹的规矩可能是他必须打破的第一个。他需要一个实体的提醒,让那个“拜托了”变得有形。目前,他只是把手放在 Chan 的手上,放在他的臀部上,说道,“不要太想我,宝贝。”




It takes no time at all. Hyunjin on his hands and knees, Chan behind him, his voice shaking as he says, “You’re beautiful—you’re so beautiful, Paris,” holding him so tightly that he leaves a beautiful, bloomed bruise on Hyunjin’s hipbone, which Hyunjin traces in the mirror the next day and breaks out the watercolors to immortalize.
这一切发生得很快。Hyunjin 跪在地上,Chan 站在他身后,声音颤抖地说:“你很美丽—你是如此美丽,帕里斯”,他紧紧地抱着他,在 Hyunjin 的髋骨上留下了一个美丽绽放的淤青,Hyunjin 第二天在镜子前追踪,然后拿出水彩画来永久保存。




Sneering, smirky Minho at the lobby counter. “Welcome back, Mr. Reynolds.”




Felix: “Wanna get dinner tonight? I miss you!”

Hyunjin: “Oh, I’m sorry, I can’t!”

Felix, shaking his head, smiling. “Everyone’s too busy for me these days.”
Felix 摇着头微笑。“这些天大家都太忙了,没时间陪我了。”




Months and months of health data on Chan’s phone, showing his appalling sleep schedule (or lack thereof)—some days, too many, with two hours of sleep or less. “And now look at this,” Chan says, excitedly tapping back to this past month. From their first night, four weeks ago, it’s nothing but sixes, sevens, even a couple of eights. He looks at Hyunjin like he could kiss him in gratitude. Hyunjin rests his head on Chan’s shoulder and squeezes him around the middle. Chan’s heart is beating steadily, and Hyunjin listens to it as it speeds up, as Hyunjin kisses his neck instead.
数月来,Chan 手机上的健康数据显示了他令人震惊的睡眠时间表(或者说缺乏睡眠)——有些日子,他只睡了两个小时甚至更少。“现在看看这个,”Chan 兴奋地说着,回到了上个月。从四周前的第一个晚上开始,只有六点、七点,甚至有几次是八点。他看着 Hyunjin,仿佛要感激地亲吻他。Hyunjin 把头靠在 Chan 的肩膀上,紧紧地搂住他。Chan 的心跳平稳有力,而 Hyunjin 则听着它加快的速度,当 Hyunjin 亲吻他的脖子时。




Orgasms Hyunjin didn’t know he could have—from nipple stimulation alone; only from being fucked; three in a row until he’s nearly sobbing. Is it that Chan is a sexual prodigy, or is Hyunjin just fucking obsessed with him? Do their molecules fit together, their pheromones singing a perfect duet? All of the above? Chan must think he’s faking it, these outsize reactions, the way Hyunjin—as promised—creams himself when Chan has barely touched him. “You’re my favorite,” Hyunjin gasps, dazed and boneless after Chan has rimmed him for an hour, and Chan’s smile is so bright, so proud—he believes it. Hyunjin’s spent cock twitches; sure, he could go again, for that smile.
Hyunjin 从未想过自己会有这样的高潮——仅仅是通过刺激乳头;仅仅是被操;连续三次直到他几乎要哭出来。是因为 Chan 是性天才,还是 Hyunjin 只是对他疯狂地着迷?他们的分子是否契合,他们的信息素是否在完美地合唱?以上皆是?Chan 一定认为他在假装,这些夸张的反应,就像 Hyunjin 承诺的那样,在 Chan 几乎没碰他的时候就射了。"你是我最喜欢的,"Hyunjin 喘着气说,在 Chan 给他舔肛了一个小时后,头昏脑涨,Chan 的笑容是如此明亮,如此自豪——他相信了。Hyunjin 的阴茎抽搐;当然,他可以再来一次,为了那个笑容。




“I love your body,” Hyunjin tells him, licking those scrumptious cum-covered abs—a Calvin Klein billboard gone OnlyFans—cleaning him up for the second time that night. “I love-love-love your body.”
“我喜欢你的身体,”贤真告诉他,舔着那些美味的被精液覆盖的腹肌——一个 CK 广告牌变成了 OnlyFans——第二次在那晚清洁他。“我爱-爱-爱你的身体。”

Chan, giggly, blushing, oversensitive, tries to squirm away, but Hyunjin’s straddling those broad thighs, he won’t let him move. “Paris,” Chan says, softly.
Chan 笑个不停,脸红,过于敏感,试图挣脱,但是 Hyunjin 压在那双宽阔的大腿上,不让他动。“巴黎,”Chan 轻声说道。

“You’re perfect,” Hyunjin goes on, hands dragging over his sides, the muscles at his ribs, the curves of him, gold-kissed all over, malleable and firm and real, not just a fantasy dreamed up by Hyunjin’s lonely mind but a real treasure he really gets to hoard. “You’re perfect for me, too.”
“你完美无缺,”Hyunjin 继续说着,双手在他身体两侧游走,揉捏着他的肋骨处的肌肉,他的曲线,全身金色的光辉,柔软而坚实,真实的存在,不仅仅是 Hyunjin 寂寞心灵中的幻想,而是他真正可以珍藏的宝藏。“你对我来说是完美的。”




Bellhop Jisung, whistling by the elevators. “What floor? Oh,” he says, seeing Hyunjin, and then hits 4 without waiting for him to answer. The doors slide closed, and Jisung—bouncing on the balls of his feet—glances sidelong at Hyunjin. Like he can’t help himself, he comments, “Long honeymoon.”
Bellhop Jisung 在电梯旁吹着口哨。“几楼?哦,”他看到 Hyunjin 后说道,然后按下 4,而不等他回答。 电梯门滑闭,Jisung——脚尖蹦跳着——斜眼看着 Hyunjin。就像他控制不住自己一样,他评论道:“长长的蜜月。”

“The longest,” Hyunjin agrees placidly.




Svetlana Dmitrievna, grudgingly impressed. “Not bad, Hvan.” It’s the most praise Hyunjin has heard from her in more than a year; he nearly collapses to the floor, and there’s Felix right behind him, rubbing his shoulders, beaming at him in the mirror. Hyunjin smiles back, rotten to the core, staring straight through the palace windows at the white swan’s prince and knowing none of this can last.




Chan lasts, though, for what feels like hours. “How are you still hard?” Hyunjin moans, his palms so slick with sweat that they just slide down Chan’s arms without any friction whatsoever. Chan’s glistening, he looks like a god, and he’s smiling down at Hyunjin like all of this is easy for him. He puts his hand on Hyunjin’s throat, and Hyunjin, exhausted, legs spread so wide he won’t be able to walk tomorrow from the hamstring strain alone, arches into it, head falling down, mouth opening to bite at Chan’s thumbtip. He’s absolutely drenched, fucked loose and silly, and still, he’s not satisfied—fortunately for him, Chan isn’t, either. Every time Hyunjin thinks he’s done, he can’t take it anymore, Chan just does something that revs Hyunjin up all over again. Finding the very last reserves of his strength, he pushes himself up off the bed—rotating their position so he’ll be across Chan’s lap—to lick Chan’s neck, hips grinding down on his cock so dirty, so deep. Hands all over his chest while Chan holds him by the waist. Hyunjin lifts up—he’s panting, Chan is, too—and it’s so close to the right moment, it’s almost the time to tip over, to dive in and never come back up for air, but not yet. He leans in fast, too fast for Chan to dodge, and catches Chan’s lower lip between his teeth—a sharp pullback, but he knows that’s not the only reason Chan gasps. It makes Chan cum immediately. Hyunjin lets go of his lip. He drags his fingers through Chan’s short hair, he presses himself as tightly to Chan as he can. It’s not close enough, but it helps.
陈的持续时间似乎长达几个小时。“你怎么还这么硬?”Hyunjin 呻吟着,他的手掌被汗水打湿,完全没有摩擦,只是顺着陈的手臂滑落。陈闪闪发光,看起来像个神,微笑着俯视着 Hyunjin,好像这一切对他来说都很容易。他把手放在 Hyunjin 的喉咙上,Hyunjin 筋疲力尽,双腿张得如此之宽,明天光是腿筋拉伤就走不了路,向着手指咬去。他浑身湿透,被操得放荡而愚蠢,但仍然不满足——幸运的是,陈也不满足。每当 Hyunjin 以为自己已经受够了,无法再忍受时,陈总是做一些事情,让 Hyunjin 再次兴奋起来。他竭尽全力地从床上坐起来——改变他们的姿势,让自己坐在陈的大腿上——舔着陈的脖子,臀部在他的阴茎上磨擦得又脏又深。陈抓住他的腰,胸前到处都是手。 Hyunjin 抬起头来——他喘着气,Chan 也是——离正确的时刻如此之近,几乎是倾斜的时候,潜入水中,永不再浮出水面,但还不是时候。他快速地靠近,对于 Chan 来说太快了,无法躲避,他的牙齿夹住了 Chan 的下唇——一个猛烈的拉扯,但他知道那不是 Chan 喘息的唯一原因。这让 Chan 立刻射精。Hyunjin 松开了他的嘴唇。他用手指在 Chan 短发中划过,尽可能地贴近 Chan。这还不够近,但有所帮助。




“I only have five minutes,” is the first thing Hyuna says when she picks up the phone.

Hyunjin rolls his eyes, which he’s sure she can hear. “This’ll be quick,” he says, putting the apple he’d just picked out back down upon finding a mushy spot. “I just wanted to tell you about a… situation.”

Some clicking on the other end of the line, some rustling, and then the sound of a closing door. “I now have ten minutes.”

Hyunjin huffs quietly. “But you can’t judge me, okay? I’m not even calling for advice. I just have to tell someone or I’ll lose my mind even worse.”
Hyunjin 轻声叹气。“但你不能评判我,好吗?我甚至不是为了征求建议才打电话。我只是必须告诉某人,否则我会变得更糟。”

“Just spit it out,” Hyuna says with a crunch—snack break, evidently.
“快说吧,”Hyuna 说着,一边嚼着零食——显然是休息时间。

“Okay. And do not tell Dad.” Over Hyuna’s clucks of indignation, Hyunjin lowers his voice and begins to tell a PG-13 cut of the whole sordid story, leaning heavily on how Felix had been mistreating Chan so he’ll come out looking better. “Like, this guy is perfect, and he’d always talk about him like he was this total freakazoid.” He giggles when he gets to the “and he thinks I’m a prostitute!” reveal, playing it off as a joke, again, so he won’t look so bad—“Isn’t that so silly? He thinks my name is Paris!” He’s practically whispering by the end—“We’ve been seeing each other once a week, we meet at a hotel under fake names”—so nobody in this grocery store will think he’s a terrible person. Oh, God, is he a terrible person? Now that he’s said it all out loud, now that he’s told someone, he’s really not sure. “Am I a terrible person?” he concludes breathlessly.
“好的。不要告诉爸爸。” 在 Hyuna 的不满声中,Hyunjin 压低声音,开始讲述整个肮脏故事的 PG-13 版本,强调 Felix 一直在虐待 Chan,以便让自己看起来更好。“就像,这家伙是完美的,他总是把他说成一个彻头彻尾的怪人。” 当他谈到“他认为我是个妓女!”时,他笑了起来,把它当作一个玩笑,再次强调,这样他就不会显得那么糟糕——“这不是很傻吗?他以为我的名字是帕里斯!” 到最后,他几乎是在耳语——“我们每周见一次面,在酒店见面,用假名字”—这样这家杂货店里的人就不会认为他是个可怕的人。哦,天啊,他是个可怕的人吗?现在他把所有事情都说出来了,现在他告诉了某人,他真的不确定。“我是个可怕的人吗?” 他气喘吁吁地结束。

Hyuna is quiet, and then says, “Two followup questions. One: are you bullshitting me right now? And two: did you start Adderall or something, because it is definitely not working right.”

Hyunjin whines as he tosses an enormous wet bag of celery into his shopping cart. “No, and no. This is real! My real life!”
Hyunjin 将一大袋湿漉漉的芹菜扔进购物车,抱怨道:“不行,真的不行。这是真实的!这是我的真实生活!”

“See, I was there when you were a baby, and I don’t think you got dropped on your head,” Hyuna says pensively. “At least, never when I could see.”
“你看,我在你还是个婴儿的时候就在那里了,我觉得你并没有被摔在头上,”Hyuna 沉思着说道。“至少,在我看到的时候从来没有。”

“Just tell me if I’m a terrible person or not!”

“You’re—terrible is the wrong word. Unhinged, maybe? Is he actually paying you? Why exactly did you do this?”

“Why the fuck do you have two boyfriends,” Hyunjin shouts and hangs up on her. Light-headed, he leans over the railing of his grocery cart, taking deep breaths. Not the reaction he’d been hoping for, especially since Hyuna has never been a paragon of logic or morality. He’d hoped to find a confidante in her; what else is the point of a big sister a dozen years his senior? But no, he’s alone, again, as always.

Not quite, though—he does still have Chan. Before heading to checkout, he snaps a picture of his hand grabbing the biggest, thickest, veiniest sweet potato in the bin, and sends it to Chan. thinking of you. xo

Chan texts back instantly, as he always does, these days, as if he’s the one waiting by the phone:

> I did a spit-take at my desk :(
> 我在办公桌前差点喷出水来 :(


> :)




“What if I’m too rough with you?” Chan murmurs.

“You’ve been very gentle so far.”

Chan hums a little, his hands—yes—quite gentle as he pets over the nape of Hyunjin’s neck. “But what if, though?”
Chan 哼了一小段,他的手——是的——在抚摸着 Hyunjin 脖颈的时候非常温柔。“但如果,呢?”

Hyunjin, lying so comfortably with his head in Chan’s lap, turns over to kiss Chan’s stomach for the seven hundredth time in the last twenty minutes. “I’ll tell you. But you won’t be, Chan. Try it sometime.”
在过去的二十分钟里,Hyunjin 躺在 Chan 的腿上,舒适地转过身来第七百次亲吻 Chan 的肚子。“我会告诉你的。但你不会相信,Chan。有时候试试看。”

Chan is looking down at him with so much thoughtful sweetness. He’s incredible; Hyunjin reaches up to cup his cheek in his hand, can’t even believe he gets to do this, even though it’s not really him doing it, and even though it still might not be Hyunjin whom Chan wants at all. The first night they did this, Chan might have flinched away. Now, at least he leans into Hyunjin’s touch, albeit not for very long. He helps Hyunjin up, and they just embrace. Skin-to-skin, healing contact. Hyunjin puts his fingers between their mouths, palm to Chan’s lips, and kisses his own knuckles.

Chan’s breathing at first, and then he isn’t, his hands going still on Hyunjin’s waist, too. Hyunjin’s fingers move—he slides them out, as if doing a magic trick with a tablecloth. Chan’s fingers, in turn, infinitesimally tighten, as though he’s saying, be careful. There’s a stillness, an ecstasy, a melting like the last pat of butter swimming within its former self, finally surrendering to the heat. Not fireworks, not even in the distance; the press of Hyunjin’s lips to Chan’s is like grabbing a live wire with a cold hand. Hyunjin grips onto Chan’s jaw and kisses his soul into Chan’s mouth, and Chan swallows, picks Hyunjin up, lays him down, all without letting their lips part.

There’s such a curiosity to the way Chan is kissing him. Like he’s exploring a new city—one of which he’s only seen the walls, the gates. Finally inside, he finds it lush, warm, welcoming. Hyunjin hasn’t breathed and doesn’t think he needs to anymore. He’d leave his physical form if Chan didn’t like it so much. His lungs are burning and his closed eyes are, too. Chan is very careful, in a way nobody’s thought to be careful with Hyunjin before. They’re barely kissing—like they’re frightened. Open mouths, just breathing together, swaying in and occasionally out. Until Hyunjin gets hungry and even more frightened—what if Chan stops?—and kisses deeper, falling, falling.

Finally, Hyunjin feels the sanctity that those hypocrites claim to experience when they abstain until marriage. This really was worth the wait. What a beautiful frontier. Invigorated by Chan’s equally enthusiastic response, he kisses him again and again, tonguing his teeth, pulling his curls to pull him closer, letting their tongues work together like the rest of their muscles have been all this time. Chan is petting his hair while they kiss. It’s sweet—he’s so sweet. Hyunjin soaks in it, like ladyfingers in coffee syrup. His thumbs press to the bolts of Chan’s jaw, wordlessly asking him to open wider, baby. Chan opens, Hyunjin’s key the perfect fit for his lock. Hyunjin belongs here—Hyunjin could stay here, would stay here, breathing in/breathing out like Marina and Ulay, until the world goes dark.

It’s not a kiss intended to arouse—sure, Hyunjin’s a little hard, but really only because he’s so emotionally stimulated, and for the first time in he can’t even fathom how long, he’s not wanting for anything. He has it all. Chan’s quiet breathing, rushed inhales whenever their lips happen to part. The languid suction, and Hyunjin has a big mouth, but for Chan it feels just right. He can’t believe it. He’s so lucky. He’s kissing Chan. He wanted him, and he got him, and just for a moment, just when Chan tilts his head just so, Hyunjin forgets—forgets the insane circumstances, lies, and trickery that led him here; forgets the spreading blackness prickling all over his soul; forgets little Felix, the innocent white swan, none the wiser; forgets Paris, his savior. It’s so real, it feels so real. Chan is really kissing him. He’s kissing Hyunjin. Hyunjin is starting to smile, and when his lips curve up, Chan’s do, too.

On the next breath, Hyunjin’s half-kissing him, half-nuzzling their noses together. He feels drunk. He’s ridiculously happy. “Oopsie,” he whispers.

Chan exhales in amusement, but he’s fixated now, brushes his lips to Hyunjin’s again as if he can’t resist him. “Felix, you have—”

“No, no,” Hyunjin says involuntarily, and then, like a car crash filmed in slow motion, watches the fragments shattering. Chan starts reeling back. Hyunjin grabs him. Won’t let him go. Chan’s eyes are wide and his lips are wet. His face is hot. Hyunjin’s heart is pounding, he might be dying, he has to be so brave. He has to be strong, for Chan. Chan’s saying, “I’m sorry.” Over and over. Hyunjin kisses him. Hyunjin’s saying, “It’s me.” Hyunjin’s saying, “It’s okay. Happens to the best of us.” Hyunjin’s saying, “Look at me, Chan. It’s me. I’m the one who’s here with you. Breathe. I’m the one who wants you. Who am I, Chan?”
“不,不,” 炫震不由自主地说道,然后,就像慢动作拍摄的车祸一样,看着碎片四处飞溅。灿开始后退。炫震抓住了他。不会放手。灿的眼睛瞪大,嘴唇湿润。他的脸发烫。炫震的心怦怦跳,他可能快要死了,他必须如此勇敢。他必须坚强,为了灿。灿一遍又一遍地说:“对不起。”炫震吻了他。炫震说:“是我。”炫震说:“没关系。最好的人都会遇到这种情况。”炫震说:“看着我,灿。是我。我就在这陪着你。呼吸。我是那个想要你的人。我是谁,灿?”

“Paris,” Chan says, anguished, so guilty he would probably gladly commit seppuku here and now, a prostrate sacrifice at Hyunjin’s feet.
“巴黎,” 灿痛苦地说,如此内疚,他可能会乐意在这里立刻切腹自尽,成为炫震脚下的俯首祭品。

“And what am I?” “那我算什么?”

“Too good for me.” “对我来说太好了。”

“Try again,” Hyunjin prompts.

Chan squeezes his eyes shut, and Hyunjin lifts, kisses his eyebrows, his eyelids. Upper lip, lower lip. As if in reverse of earlier, now he just holds him, skin-to-skin, healing contact, soothing himself as much as he’s soothing Chan, reminding them both that they’re not going anywhere. He holds him until Chan’s breathing slows back to normal and he’s not shaking with embarrassment anymore. “I’m sorry,” Chan says again, so quietly. “You’re perfect, Paris. Did I ruin—everything?”
Chan 闭上眼睛,贤真抬起头,亲吻他的眉毛,眼皮。上唇,下唇。仿佛与之前相反,现在他只是抱着他,肌肤相接,治愈的接触,安抚自己和安抚 Chan,提醒他们两个他们不会离开。他抱着他,直到 Chan 的呼吸恢复正常,不再因尴尬而颤抖。“对不起,”Chan 再次轻声说道。“你完美无瑕,Paris。我毁了一切吗?”

“You don’t ruin anything,” Hyunjin tells him firmly and kisses him to seal the deal. “Seriously, this happens all the time.”

Chan’s relieved, smiling shyly into another few kisses, and Hyunjin has the precise inverse of his feeling from just a few moments ago—the whiplash is unbearable. Now, Paris is realer than ever, a presence looming so much larger than Hyunjin’s. After they go their separate ways tomorrow morning, Paris will message his other industry colleagues and giggle coolly about all this. It’s okay.

Except no, he won’t, and no, it isn’t. It’s just Hyunjin, alone. With Chan, yes, but—not with Chan. Hyunjin feels very small. Hyunjin feels very stupid, and very pathetic. He is all of those things. Chan has fucked him in every practical position and in several extremely impractical ones, and now they’ve kissed, too, and yet Hyunjin can’t even catch up enough to eat Felix’s dust. He tries to count the hours; when will he be back home again, finally able to cry?

“I’m sorry, Paris, really,” Chan says—overusing his name, overcompensating. Sweet. “It’s just—I mean, the last person I kissed was Felix, so—I wasn’t thinking about him, I swear. I don’t, anymore, really. I know you’re you. And you’re nothing like Felix, anyway.”

Wanna bet? “Chan, it’s okay,” Hyunjin smiles, letting their foreheads rest together. He breathes the way he sometimes has to onstage—so subtly from his diaphragm that it’s not even obvious he’s gasping. He draws from hitherto unsuspected wells of strength. He lies, “Being totally real for a sec—outside of all this, us—it’s okay. Please don’t beat yourself up over it. You can make it up to me if you want, but you don’t need to. It’s okay!”
想打赌吗?“Chan,没关系,”Hyunjin 微笑着,让他们的额头靠在一起。他呼吸的方式有时像在舞台上一样——从腹部微微地呼吸,甚至不明显他在喘气。他从未意识到的力量源泉中汲取力量。他撒谎道:“说真的——在这一切之外,在我们之外——没关系。请不要因此责备自己。如果你想的话,你可以弥补给我,但你不需要。没关系!”

Chan exhales. Hesitantly, he tilts his head up to seek out a kiss, which Hyunjin grants him. It’s so nice to kiss him, but Hyunjin is so upset, and everything hurts, he hurts everywhere—like after a bad practice, bleeding, bruised, ears ringing from all the insults hurled his way. He clings to Chan. He takes his own advice and breathes. Chan kisses his mouth, his cheeks, his neck, all over, and Hyunjin’s thinking about Felix, and it’s making him crazy that he doesn’t know whether Chan is, too.
Chan 呼出一口气。犹豫地,他抬起头寻找一个吻,Hyunjin 答应了他。亲吻他是如此美好,但 Hyunjin 如此难过,一切都让他痛苦,他到处都痛——就像练习不好之后一样,流血,淤青,耳朵里回响着所有对他的辱骂。他紧紧抱住 Chan。他听从自己的建议,深呼吸。Chan 吻他的嘴唇,他的脸颊,他的脖子,到处都是,Hyunjin 想着 Felix,他疯狂地想知道 Chan 是否也在想。

“All I was going to say before I mucked it all up,” Chan murmurs against his lips, “is that you have no idea how badly I’ve wanted this.”

Fuck, Hyunjin’s not that complicated. He melts. “Me, too,” he sighs, and lets Chan kiss him again—lets him take the pain away.
该死,Hyunjin 并不那么复杂。他融化了。“我也是,”他叹息着,让陈再次吻他——让他带走痛苦。




In the lobby, it’s always quiet in the mornings. Occasional families, mostly businessmen in rumpled suits leaving the continental breakfast buffet. Walking out of the elevator and covering a yawn with his hand, Hyunjin feels better; it’s hard not to feel better after hours of making out plus lazy mutual masturbation, then hours of being held nice and snug against Chan’s heart. He’s decided not to hold a grudge about the slip-up. Chan is only human, after all. Hyunjin happens to like that about him. Although Chan’s going to stay in the room for a little while longer, as per usual, Hyunjin still checks his reflection in the shiny closed elevator doors—just in case. He can never be too careful; he can never let Chan catch him off-guard.

“Good morning,” says a light, polite voice from the concierge desk, but then abruptly sharpens when the speaker sees Hyunjin properly: “Mr. Reynolds. A moment of your time?”

Hyunjin blinks up from his phone screen, thumb hovering over the ‘confirm UberX’ button. It’s Minho, who must have worked the night shift, too—no other concierges anywhere to be seen. A little confused, Hyunjin walks to the desk, and rests a hand on its faux-golden edge. “Good morning,” he says, eyebrows raised. “What’s… can I help you?”
Hyunjin 从手机屏幕上抬起头,拇指悬停在‘确认 UberX’按钮上。是 Minho,他一定也在夜班—其他地方都看不到任何礼宾员。有点困惑,Hyunjin 走到前台,手搁在那仿金边缘上。“早上好,”他说,挑起眉毛。“我能帮你什么忙?”

Minho types something on his computer like he’s too busy to talk to Hyunjin even though he’d called him over there, then looks up, and leans in across the counter. His eyes are cold and flat like a snake’s; Hyunjin stifles a shiver. Minho says, in undertones, “I know you’re not a real escort.”
Minho 在电脑上输入了一些东西,好像太忙了,没时间和 Hyunjin 说话,尽管他叫他过去,然后抬起头,越过柜台倾身靠近。他的眼睛冷漠平淡,像蛇一样;Hyunjin 忍住了一阵发抖。Minho 低声说:“我知道你不是真正的陪游。”

Hyunjin immediately rears back, shocked and offended. He hadn’t known what to expect, but what an absurd accusation, in every possible direction; should the implication of escorting be more offensive, or being called a fake? His face starts heating up, and he glances quickly over his shoulder, checking fearfully for Chan. “What—what are you talking about?” he says, with a light, bubbly laugh. “I just like to come here with my husb—”
Hyunjin 立刻往后退,感到震惊和受伤。他不知道会发生什么,但这是多么荒谬的指控,在各个方向上都是;被指控陪同更令人生气,还是被称为假的?他的脸开始发烫,他快速地扭头看了一眼,恐惧地检查是否有 Chan。“你在说什么?”他说,带着轻快的笑声。“我只是喜欢和我丈夫一起来这里—”

“Save it,” Minho says, bored. “I get the real ones in here, so I know exactly what to look for. With them, we have a mutual understanding, and we stay out of each other’s business. You, though—you’re very sloppy. So I just wanted to know if you’re actually married and this is all some fucked-up sex game you’re playing.”

Hyunjin eyes him. It’s like TV static; Minho is completely blank. Is he going to get Hyunjin in trouble? Is he just a busybody? Hyunjin is obviously caught, though, with nowhere to run. After another glance around the near-empty lobby, he sighs, shoulders slumping, and admits, “No, I’m—not. That. And we’re not married, either. We don’t actually know each other. It’s… really complicated.”
Hyunjin 盯着他。就像电视静态画面一样;Minho 完全一片空白。他会让 Hyunjin 惹上麻烦吗?他只是多管闲事?显然,Hyunjin 被逮住了,无处可逃。在再次环顾几乎空荡荡的大堂后,他叹了口气,肩膀耷拉着,承认,“不,我—不是。那个。我们也不是结婚了。我们实际上并不认识对方。这…真的很复杂。”

“Ah,” Minho says, leaning back with a pensive—yet still somehow disinterested—expression. “Is he actually paying you, though?”
“啊,”Minho 说,带着一副若有所思但又不知何故漠不关心的表情往后靠着。“不过他真的在付你钱吗?”

Hyunjin, empty stomach flipping with guilt, nervously pictures the lumps under his mattress at home—not a single dollar spent. He brought a fistful of bills to the bank once to try and deposit them, but he couldn’t bear it. He’ll pay Chan back eventually, he figures. Compensation for severe emotional damages, once the truth comes out. Also, he doesn’t like how oddly Hyuna-like Minho had just sounded. Why is everybody trying to make him feel bad about all this? He’s just trying to help Chan! “That’s a private matter,” he says, aiming for stiff and instead sounding brittle.
Hyunjin,空腹因内疚而翻腾,紧张地想象着家里床垫下的肿块——一个钱也没花。他曾经拿着一把钞票去银行想存起来,但他无法忍受。他想他最终会还钱给 Chan。等真相大白时,作为严重的情感损害的补偿。此外,他不喜欢 Minho 刚才说话时有点像 Hyuna。为什么每个人都要让他为此感到内疚呢?他只是想帮助 Chan 而已!“那是私人事务,”他说,试图显得坚定,结果听起来却脆弱无力。

“Ha. I don’t care what you do with your private time, Mr. Reynolds, or whatever your real name is,” Minho drawls. “But you can’t do it in my hotel. This is a highly professional establishment, you know. You’re making us all look bad.”
“哈。我不在乎你在私下做什么,雷诺兹先生,或者你的真名是什么,”Minho 慢吞吞地说。“但你不能在我的酒店里这么做。这是一个非常专业的地方,你知道的。你让我们都丢脸。”

“Your bellboy,” Hyunjin protests, “slut-shames me every time I come in here—”

“Shhh,” Minho hisses, even though the lobby’s still empty, and is that Hyunjin’s imagination, or did Minho’s lips twitch with the start of a smile? The expression is gone in an instant, and Minho’s looking neutrally at his computer screen again, pretending to type. “If he’s paying you for sexual services of any kind,” says Minho in his lighter customer-service voice, “then that is prostitution, and you can’t do that here. You’ll have to find a new honeymoon destination. If you don’t, I’ll have no choice but to alert the relevant authorities.”

Hyunjin’s jaw has dropped, but Minho may as well be a brick wall, and Hyunjin may as well be invisible. Although Hyunjin waits, Minho doesn’t look up at him or say anything else, and Hyunjin, fuming, has to accept defeat, slinking away from the desk and out of the hotel. Who fucking needs the Hilton, anyway? For as much as Chan must be paying, it’s not even that nice. (Like you, says a horrifying blend of Minho and Hyuna’s voices in his head.)
Hyunjin 的下巴都快掉下来了,但 Minho 简直就像一堵墙,Hyunjin 简直就像是透明的。虽然 Hyunjin 等着,但 Minho 不抬头看他,也不说其他任何话,Hyunjin 气愤地不得不接受失败,从桌子旁边溜走,离开了酒店。反正谁他妈需要希尔顿呢?就算 Chan 付了多少钱,也没那么好。(就像你一样,Minho 和 Hyuna 的声音在他脑海中可怕地融合在一起说。)

“Shut up,” Hyunjin mutters, and then, blushing, “I am so sorry, I’m—on the phone,” to the Uber driver.
“闭嘴,”Hyunjin 嘟囔着,然后脸红地对 Uber 司机说,“对不起,我——在打电话。”

As the car pulls away, Hyunjin looks up at the hotel. He tries to count windows. He tries to find Chan. He can’t. But there are other things he can try.




hey, baby. can i call you tonight? i have an idea i want to run by you.

nothing bad, i promise. just some special treatment, since you’re so special

let me know when you’re free

> Oh, hey! Yeah, call any time, I’m home from work already!
> 哦,嘿!是的,随时打电话,我已经下班回家了!

> It’ll be nice to hear your voice ^^
> 很高兴能听到你的声音 ^^

you, too. 你也是。

in an hour? 一个小时后?

> Any time, really.
> 任何时候都可以。

> Can I have a hint?
> 我可以得到一个提示吗?

hmmm.  嗯。

it has to do with being home from work, actually.

> Oooh. > 哦。

oooh is right 哦哦,没错

talk soon 很快见

xo 亲爱的

xoxo 亲爱的


> xx

Chapter End Notes 章节结束备注

twitter / retrospring / fic playlist
twitter / retrospring / 短篇小说播放列表

1 kudos = 1 chocolate covered strawberry hyunjin will whorishly hand-feed u, 1 comment = a good night's sleep
1 个赞 = 1 个巧克力覆盖的草莓,Hyunjin 会放荡地亲手喂你,1 条评论 = 一个安稳的夜晚

while i was writing this chapter, i had a twitter poll that was like "how much should i hurt hyunjin's feelings right now?" and the choices were 0% and 100%, and 100% won. i hope you're all very pleased with yourselves. thank you very much for reading so enthusiastically thus far!!!!!
在我写这一章的时候,我有一个推特投票,内容是“我现在应该多伤害 Hyunjin 的感情?”选项是 0%和 100%,100% 赢了。希望你们都对自己感到非常满意。非常感谢你们迄今为止的热情阅读!!!!!

fic updates fridays at 5pm eastern, subscribe to see what happens next >:)
每周五下午 5 点东部时间更新,订阅以查看接下来会发生什么 >:)

act iii 第三幕

Chapter Summary 章节摘要

It’s not about having someone to love me anymore

This is the experience of being an American whore

—“A&W,” Lana del Rey ——《A&W》,Lana del Rey

Chapter Notes 章节注释

“I think Chan has been seeing someone,” Felix says, low and gossipy.
“我觉得灿一直在和某人约会,” 菲力克斯低声八卦道。

Hyunjin is looking very intently at the row of plastic-packaged tights, flipping through to find his size. He can’t give anything away. There might be someone else, anyway. The thought makes his stomach churn, empty as it is around this morning’s handful of granola. He settles on saying, “Really?” His eyes flicker over to Felix, who’s comparing the prices on two rolls of sport tape. “Did he say something?”

“No,” Felix says, “and I don’t really have any evidence. He just has the same look on his face these days as when we had our… thing.”
“不,” 菲利克斯说,“我并没有什么证据。他这些天的表情只是和我们有过那个… 事情时一样。”

“Huh,” Hyunjin says. He counts two breaths, he can’t be too interested, he can’t pry. He tries to remember how he’d act when Felix brought up Chan before; he always cast himself as the fun, campy sidekick, the comic relief, the silly flamboyant set dressing cracking jokes to help the hero on his journey. But how is he meant to be funny when his heart’s cracking against his ribs? He wants to see the look. He wants to know if it’s for him, because of him. Despite needing to stay cool, he can feel himself smiling, cheeks warm, and he glances over to Felix again. “What if he was? Would that be weird for you?”
“哼,” 玄辰说。他数了两个呼吸,不能显得太感兴趣,不能打探。他试着回想起以前菲利克斯提到灿时他会怎么做;他总是把自己塑造成有趣的、卡通的配角,滑稽的笑料,愚蠢的华丽布景,说笑话来帮助英雄踏上他的旅程。但当他的心碎裂在胸膛时,他怎么能搞笑呢?他想看看那个表情。他想知道那是为了他,因为他。尽管需要保持冷静,他感觉自己在微笑,脸颊发热,再次看向菲利克斯。“如果是呢?那对你来说会不会奇怪?”

Felix vehemently shakes his head. “You kidding? I’d be thrilled! Oh, I wanted him to get over me so bad—I really, really just want him to be happy. It’d be great if he found someone else. As long as they deserve him, of course. And that’s a high bar in my book!”

He laughs, so Hyunjin laughs along. He’s grabbed the wrong size of tights, and he puts it back, blinking deliriously at the selection. Another blessing from Felix—it must be. Hyunjin knows Chan by now. There can’t be anyone else; Chan’s too busy, too self-loathing. He can make time exactly once a week to let himself be cherished, and only by Hyunjin. It’s Hyunjin. Felix is talking about Hyunjin. “I wonder who it is,” Hyunjin says, smiling as he tells himself this secret.

“I know, right? I’ve never seen him date anyone, other than, well,” Felix says thoughtfully. “I dunno, I could be way off-base here. I don’t even think I’ll ask him about it. He’ll tell me when he’s ready.” Before Hyunjin can chime in with some bland air-filler, Felix looks at him from under his eyelashes, a sneaky little expression on his face. “Hey. I know I said I wouldn’t bring it up again, but… did you ever check up on him?”
“我知道,对吧?我从来没见过他和别人约会,除了,嗯,” Felix 思索着说。“我不确定,也许我完全错了。我甚至不打算问他。他准备好的时候会告诉我的。”在 Hyunjin 来得及说些无聊的话之前,Felix 从眼睫毛下看着他,脸上带着一丝狡黠的表情。“嘿。我知道我说过不再提起这件事,但… 你有没有查看过他?”

“Oh,” Hyunjin says, pinned like a butterfly in a case. It’s been so long now—he thought Felix had forgotten. As a result, Hyunjin has forgotten the lie he’d had ready, too, so, panicking, he shrugs and says, “Yeah, I did.”
「哦,」Hyunjin 说,像被钉在玻璃箱里的蝴蝶一样。现在已经过去这么久了——他以为 Felix 已经忘记了。结果,Hyunjin 也忘记了他准备好的谎言,于是,恐慌地耸耸肩说:“是的,我见过他。”

Felix abandons the sports tape and comes over to him, eyes wide. “Really? How was he?”
Felix 放下运动胶带走到他身边,瞪大眼睛。“真的吗?他怎么样?”

Chan’s sad smile under the streetlights. Chan’s fingers skimming over the surface of the bath. The flex of his arms as he holds Hyunjin down by the wrists and splits him open, teeth digging against the back of his shoulder. “He seemed fine,” Hyunjin says. Chan’s hot eyes looking up from between Hyunjin’s legs. Chan’s sensitive nipples, and the way he yelps and squirms and laughs when Hyunjin teases him there. Chan’s plush lips, kissed so puffy both of them can barely speak. “We didn’t actually meet.” Chan leaving bruises on Hyunjin’s hips; Chan pushing Hyunjin against the wall, holding him up as he fucks him deep; the soft, dopey way he smiles when Hyunjin joins him in bed, when it’s time to turn out the lights and curl up together for the night. “Yeah, he seemed fine, I guess.”
Chan 在街灯下的悲伤微笑。Chan 的手指在浴缸表面轻轻划过。他用手臂的力量压住 Hyunjin 的手腕,撕裂他,牙齿嵌入他肩膀后面。“他看起来挺好的,”Hyunjin 说。Chan 从 Hyunjin 双腿间仰望的炽热目光。Chan 敏感的乳头,以及当 Hyunjin 在那里逗弄他时,他尖叫、扭动、笑的方式。Chan 丰满的嘴唇,亲吻得又肿又厚,以至于他们俩几乎说不出话来。“我们实际上并没有见面。”Chan 在 Hyunjin 臀部留下淤青;Chan 将 Hyunjin 推到墙边,把他扶起来深深地干他;当到了关灯、一起蜷缩在一起过夜的时候,他柔软、迟钝地微笑。“是的,我猜他看起来挺好的。”

“Where’d you do it? How?” asks Felix.
“你在哪里做的?怎么做的?” 费利克斯问道。

On the bed, against the door, against the window, in the bathtub, in the shower, across the desk twice in a row. The hotel room had never felt smaller; it had been so hard to breathe, but Hyunjin hadn’t needed to breathe with Chan all over him, all around him, rearranging his insides through to his heart. “I stopped by that bar you said he goes to, and he was there.” Hyunjin had wanted to suck on his fingers even then. Now, he gets to. “I just, you know, kept an eye on him for a bit from afar, but the moment never felt right for me to talk to him? Sorry.”
在床上,在门边,靠着窗户,浴缸里,在淋浴间里,在办公桌上,连续两次。旅馆房间从未感觉如此狭小;呼吸变得如此困难,但是有了陈在他身上、周围,重新布置他的内心直至心脏,贤振根本不需要呼吸。“我去了你说他经常去的那家酒吧,他就在那里。” 当时贤振甚至想吮吸他的手指。现在,他可以了。“我只是,你知道的,从远处盯着他一会儿,但是那个时刻对我来说从未感觉合适,和他说话?抱歉。”

“No, no! I totally get it! You’re an angel for going at all, omigod, I can’t believe you really went,” Felix rushes, his hands rubbing at Hyunjin’s arm earnestly. “Thank you. And he really seemed fine?”
“不,不!我完全理解!你真是个天使,居然去了,天啊,我简直不敢相信你真的去了。” 费利克斯急忙说道,双手真诚地揉着贤振的胳膊。“谢谢你。他看起来真的没事吗?”

No, but Hyunjin was there to catch him as he fell, was there to lick his wounds for him. Now he holds Chan close as he shakes apart for a very different reason. Hiding deep under the neck of Hyunjin’s shirt right now is a glowing-warm hickey that beats like a beacon when he’s anxious—it calms him down, remembering that Chan has been there, that he’ll be there again. He’d left a matching one on Chan. He prays it has the same effect for him. “Yes,” Hyunjin reassures Felix with a kind, soft smile. “He was okay. He was chatting to people and he looked great.”
不,但是 Hyunjin 在他摔倒时及时接住了他,替他舔舐伤口。现在,他把 Chan 紧紧拥在怀里,因为一个完全不同的原因而颤抖。此刻深藏在 Hyunjin 衬衫领口下的是一个发着温暖光芒的吻痕,每当他焦虑时就会像信标一样跳动——这让他平静下来,记得 Chan 一直在那里,他会再次出现。他也在 Chan 身上留下了一个相同的吻痕。他祈祷它对他也有同样的效果。“是的,”Hyunjin 用一种温和的微笑安抚着 Felix。“他没事。他在和人们聊天,看起来很好。”

Felix’s expression is a bit strange; it’s caught between relieved and wistful. Maybe, Hyunjin thinks, suddenly panicking again, he wanted Chan to be wrecked. Shit, he went too far in the opposite direction. It’s like setting his rates for Chan all over again. Quickly, Hyunjin hazards a correction: “I just mean he wasn’t sobbing or anything. He did look a little sad. But again, I didn’t talk to him, so I don’t really know.”
Felix 的表情有点奇怪;既松了口气又略带忧郁。也许,Hyunjin 突然又陷入恐慌,他希望 Chan 被摧毁。该死,他在相反的方向上走得太远了。这就像再次为 Chan 设定价格一样。Hyunjin 迅速纠正道:“我只是想说他没有哭泣或者什么的。他看起来有点难过。但再次强调,我没有和他交谈,所以我不太清楚。”

Right answer. Wistfulness wins over in Felix’s expression, and he shakes his head slightly, drawing away from Hyunjin to pick his sport tape back up. “No, it’s great to hear he wasn’t sobbing, seriously. Thank you so much for checking on him. Ah, I really extra hope he’s got someone, then! Can you imagine if I’d really broken his heart forever? Ugh, I wouldn’t be able to live with myself.”
正确的回答。Felix 的表情中带着一丝怀念,他微微摇了摇头,离开 Hyunjin 拾起他的运动胶带。“不,听到他没有哭泣真是太好了。非常感谢你去查看他。啊,我真的特别希望他有个伴侣!你能想象如果我真的永远伤透了他的心吗?唉,我会活不下去的。”

You did. I’m putting the pieces back together. “Sounds like he’s stronger than you think,” Hyunjin says, and then immediately panics for a third time because that is objectively such a weird thing to say about someone he’s not supposed to know, but fortunately, Felix is distracted by the massage rollers and doesn’t hear him.

Felix doesn’t bring Chan up again. By the time he’s talked himself out of getting a roller, the conversation has breezed along to a safer topic—auditions, which are in just a couple of weeks. They buy their tights, tape, and hair ties, and do their usual playful scuffling over who gets bag-carrying privileges as they leave the athletic supply store. Hyunjin is floating; he can’t believe how happy he is. Chan has such a healthy glow thanks to Hyunjin that Felix has noticed—that Felix couldn’t help but share the good news with Hyunjin. Hyunjin is in such a good mood that he suggests he and Felix get something to eat, unless Felix has other plans for the evening, and Felix beams, squeezing Hyunjin’s arm so tightly. “I’d love to,” he says, and off they skip to the food court.

It’s been a long time since they last got dinner together; only now does it hit Hyunjin just how hard he’s been avoiding him. He’d forgotten how nice it is to spend time with Felix—now that Felix has given him his blessing twice over, Hyunjin can just relax and enjoy his company, along with the pleasantly springy cold soba he’d picked out from the Japanese place in the food court. Felix is going to get a better part in the ballet; that’s certain, and they’re both aware of it—it’s the proverbial elephant in the room. But Hyunjin isn’t bitter. He’s curiously sweet. There’s balance in his life, now. Although failing in his career and avoiding his most significant friendship, finally, after everything, and even imperfectly, he’s lucky in love.

“That guy is staring at us,” Felix whispers with an infinitesimal movement of his eyes in the direction of the staring guy. “No, don’t look now!”
“那个家伙在盯着我们看,”Felix 用微小的眼神动作低声说道,指向那个盯着他们的家伙的方向。“不,现在别看!”

“Felix, darling,” Hyunjin drawls. “People always stare at us when we’re out and about. Shouldn’t you be used to it by now?”

Felix giggles, shaking his head. “He’s really staring, though. More than usual. Okay, you can look now, he stopped.”
Felix 咯咯笑着,摇着头。“他真的盯着看,比平时更多。好了,你可以看了,他停了。”

Hyunjin turns, seeking out the starer, but Felix’s urgent hiss of oh God wait now he’s staring again comes a second too late—Hyunjin locks eyes with him. It’s Jisung. The odious bellboy from the Hilton. No uniform, obviously, just baggy jeans and an even baggier hoodie. And when he sees Hyunjin looking, he lights up in the hugest, nastiest grin and boings up to start noodling his way over to their table.
Hyunjin 转过头,寻找那个盯着看的人,但 Felix 紧急的嘶嘶声“哦,天啊,等等,他又盯着看了”来得太迟了——Hyunjin 与他对视。那是 Jisung。希尔顿酒店的那个可恶的行李员。显然没有穿制服,只是宽松的牛仔裤和更宽松的卫衣。当他看到 Hyunjin 在看他时,他露出了最大、最讨厌的笑容,然后弹跳着开始朝他们的桌子走来。

Hyunjin whirls to face Felix again and hunches in his seat, gripping the edge of the slightly sticky table with both hands to keep from covering his face with his palms—if I can’t see you, you can’t see me. Fuck. What is he going to do? Felix, a little worried, is saying, “Um, Hyunjin…”
Hyunjin 转身再次面对 Felix,弯下腰坐在座位上,双手紧握略微粘腻的桌边,以免用手掩面——如果我看不见你,你也看不见我。该死。他要怎么办?有点担心的 Felix 说:“嗯,Hyunjin……”

“I know,” Hyunjin grits out. “Just—ignore him and maybe he’ll go away.”

“Well, well, well,” says Jisung extremely brightly, sauntering right up to their table and rapping his knuckles against it. “If it isn’t Mrs. Reynolds! I thought that was you!”
“哎呀,哎呀,哎呀,”Jisung 非常开心地说,昂首阔步走到他们的桌子前,敲了敲桌子的指关节。“这不是雷诺斯夫人吗!我就知道是你!”

“Oh—do you know each other?” Felix asks, and from Hyunjin’s peripherals, he can see Felix’s body language relaxing as he goes from a-stranger-is-hitting-on-us mode into this-is-a-long-lost-friend mode.
“哦——你们认识吗?”Felix 问道,从 Hyunjin 的余光中,他可以看到 Felix 的身体语言放松下来,从一个陌生人在调戏我们的模式转变为这是一个久违的朋友的模式。

“Yeah, we go way back,” Jisung grins. “How you been?”
“是啊,我们认识很久了,”Jisung 咧嘴一笑。“你最近怎么样?”

Unfortunately, ignoring him isn’t making him go away. Hyunjin almost moves to clutch at his hair in desperation, but then remembers that he’d just been clutching at the gross table, so he has to leave his hands where they are as he tilts his head to grimace a smile up at Jisung. “Fine. Thank you.”
不幸的是,无视他并没有让他离开。Hyunjin 差点想要抓住自己的头发表示绝望,但他又记得自己刚才还在抓那张脏桌子,所以他只能让手留在原地,抬头朝 Jisung 打着假笑。“好的。谢谢。”

“We miss you,” Jisung croons, and Hyunjin wants to die, he wants the earth to open up and swallow him, he wants to vaporize. More than anything, he wants Jisung to go the fuck away before Felix starts asking questions. Shit, Felix is going to ask questions anyway—Hyunjin needs to think, he needs to think, but he can’t do that with that smarmy, obnoxious grin radiating dark, unpleasant energy at him.
“我们想念你,” Jisung 哼唱着,Hyunjin 想死,他希望大地能裂开把他吞没,他希望自己能蒸发。最重要的是,他希望 Jisung 赶紧滚蛋,免得 Felix 开始问问题。该死,Felix 无论如何都会问问题——Hyunjin 需要冷静,他需要冷静,但在那个自以为是、讨厌的笑容向他散发出黑暗、不愉快的能量的情况下,他做不到。

“Cinnamon sugar pretzel for my cinnamon sugar sweetie,” sing-songs a sickeningly familiar voice—although Hyunjin has certainly never heard that voice in this tone—and this just went from bad to so, so much worse. Sticky table germs be damned—he has to pinch his eyes shut with his hand, just so he won’t have to see Minho. He always hated seeing his teachers outside of school. But he peeks after a second, and sure enough, there he is, going from goofy and affectionate to his standard cool, standoffish self so quickly upon locking eyes with Hyunjin that it’s like an optical illusion. Now you see me, now you don’t. “Oh,” he says flatly, his one hand dropping from the small of Jisung’s back—even as the other subtly palms the cinnamon sugar pretzel over to him.
“肉桂糖扭饼给我可爱的肉桂糖甜心,”一个令人作呕却又熟悉的声音唱道——尽管 Hyunjin 肯定从未听过这种语气的声音——事情变得更糟了。不管粘在桌子上的细菌有多可怕,他必须用手捏住眼睛,只是为了不看见 Minho。他总是讨厌在学校外见到老师。但他闭上眼睛后又偷偷瞥了一眼,果然,他在那里,一眼看到 Hyunjin 后,他从傻乎乎的亲昵变成了他标准的冷漠自持,转变之快就像一个视觉幻觉。现在你看到我,现在你看不到我。他平淡地说:“哦”,他的一只手从 Jisung 背后的腰际松开——尽管另一只手悄悄地把肉桂糖扭饼塞给了他。

“Hi,” Hyunjin says, exhausted.
“嗨,”Hyunjin 疲惫地说。

“Aren’t you going to introduce us?” Felix prompts patiently.
“你不打算介绍我们吗?”Felix 耐心地提示道。

If there is just one actual adult in this room, it’s Minho. No, they don’t like each other; no, they don’t have the it’s just us against the bourgeois pigs energy that Julia Roberts and Princess Diaries guy have in Pretty Woman. But can’t Hyunjin appeal to him somehow? Unlikely. It hasn’t even been a full week; Minho has no idea that Hyunjin took his threat seriously, that his new plan for a new location is already in motion. Technically, Hyunjin is still in Minho’s bad graces, and Minho has no reason to help him. Still—Hyunjin has to try. He’ll do anything. He clears his throat and tries, “Felix, this is Jisung and Minho. We went to middle school together.”
如果这个房间里真的有一个成年人,那就是 Minho。不,他们不喜欢彼此;不,他们没有像《风月俏佳人》里朱莉亚·罗伯茨和《公主日记》里的那个家伙那样的反抗资产阶级猪队友的能量。但是 Hyunjin 能不能某种方式打动他呢?不太可能。才过了不到一周;Minho 根本不知道 Hyunjin 认真对待了他的威胁,他的新计划已经在进行中。从技术上讲,Hyunjin 仍然处在 Minho 的不悦之中,Minho 没有理由帮助他。但是——Hyunjin 必须尝试。他会做任何事。他清了清嗓子,试着说:“Felix,这是 Jisung 和 Minho。我们一起上过中学。”

Immediately, he stifles a wince; for someone who’s currently lying for a living, he sure is bad at lying on the fly. Minho is motionless and impassive; Jisung, mouth full of pretzel, breaks into unkind snickers. Hyunjin had never considered before that they might be together, but now that it’s incontrovertible, he can’t deny it makes a sick kind of sense. Together—more like in cahoots. Felix, either genuinely completely oblivious or just that tactful, smiles up at them both. “So nice to meet you! Wow, I’m so jealous, I wish I’d known baby Hyunjin!”
他立刻忍住了一阵疼痛;对于一个目前以说谎为生的人来说,他在临场说谎方面确实很糟糕。Minho 一动不动,面无表情;Jisung 满嘴嚼着椒盐脆饼,开始嘲笑他们。Hyunjin 以前从未考虑过他们可能在一起,但既然事实不容否认,他无法否认这种关系有一种病态的合理性。在一起——更像是串通一气。Felix 要么真的完全不知情,要么就是那么圆滑,微笑着看着他们两个。“很高兴见到你们!哇,我好嫉妒,我希望我能认识小 Hyunjin!”

“You, too,” Minho says after only a brief pause. “…Yes. Baby Hyunjin sure was something.”
“你也是,”Minho 在短暂的停顿后说道。“…是的。Baby Hyunjin 确实很特别。”

Hyunjin has abandoned all meager sense of dignity and is positively pleading both or either of them with his eyes to leave him alone; can’t they tell he’s on a knife’s edge of snapping? Felix, entirely unperturbed, blithely coos. “What was he like? Did he really just spring into the world fully-formed exactly the way he is now?”
Hyunjin 已经放弃了所有微薄的尊严,用眼神恳求他们中的任何一个或两个离开他;他们难道看不出他快要崩溃了吗?Felix 完全不受影响,轻松地说道。“他是什么样子的?他真的像现在这样一下子就完全成形地出现在世界上吗?”

Even Jisung’s evil snickering is starting to get a little strained and awkward. Minho’s cold, neutral gaze slithers over to Hyunjin. “Mostly what I remember about Hyunjin is that he was just very”—he searches for the word—“honest.” A serpentine sparkle in his eye.
即使是 Jisung 那邪恶的窃笑也开始显得有些尴尬和勉强。Minho 冷漠的目光转向了 Hyunjin。“我对 Hyunjin 的印象大多是他只是非常”—他寻找着词汇—“坦诚。”他眼中闪烁着一丝蛇一般的光芒。

“Well, don’t let us interrupt date night,” Hyunjin grates out before Felix can express any curiosity or confusion inspired by that little remark. “Great to see you both. Enjoy the rest of your night.”
“嗯,别让我们打扰你们的约会夜晚,”Hyunjin 磨着牙说道,在 Felix 有机会对那句小小的话发出任何好奇或困惑之前。“很高兴见到你们两个。享受你们的夜晚剩余时间。”

“Always do,” Jisung says, and honest-to-God winks at Hyunjin. “All these years and we’re still in the honeymoon perio—”
“我一直都这样做,”Jisung 说道,然后对着 Hyunjin 眨了眨眼。“这么多年了,我们还在蜜月期—”

“Goodbye,” Minho says and hauls Jisung away; before they round a corner, though, Hyunjin has to watch, stomach squeezing like a fist, as Minho brushes cinnamon sugar away from Jisung’s mouth with excruciating tenderness.
“再见,”Minho 说着,然后拽着 Jisung 离开;然而在他们拐过一个角之前,Hyunjin 必须看着,胃像握紧的拳头一样收紧,Minho 用极度温柔地拂去 Jisung 嘴角的肉桂糖。

In the strange, pointy silence they leave behind, Felix takes a sip of his sencha, blinking those doe eyes at Hyunjin. “They were… funny.”
在他们留下的奇怪、尖锐的沉默中,Felix 啜饮着他的煎茶,用那双鹿眼瞪着 Hyunjin。“他们...很有趣。”

“We were not friends in middle school,” Hyunjin mutters, glaring intensely at the tabletop and trying very hard not to cry.
“我们在中学不是朋友,”Hyunjin 嘟囔着,怒视着桌面,拼命忍住眼泪。

Felix makes a soft, consoling, amused noise. “What’d he call you when he walked up? Mrs. Reynolds?”
Felix 发出了一声轻柔、安慰、好笑的声音。“他走过来的时候叫你什么?雷诺夫人?”

Hyunjin stifles a thousand groans. “Oh, yeah. Back then, I, uh. It’s a little embarrassing. I had a huge crush on Ryan Reynolds, so…”
Hyunjin 忍住了一千个呻吟。“哦,是的。那时候,我,嗯。有点尴尬。我对瑞恩·雷诺兹有一场巨大的暗恋,所以…”

Startled, Felix laughs a little. “Really? That’s so weird.”
被吓了一跳,Felix 笑了一下。“真的吗?太奇怪了。”

“Is it? He’s such a common crush, though.”

“Yeah, yeah. I just mean, Chan did, too.”
“是啊,是啊。我只是觉得,Chan 也是。”




Hyunjin has been to Chan’s apartment building before; he knows the way. It looks different in the twilight, though. He still acutely remembers which windows are Chan’s, third from the top. I want to remember every second of this, he tells himself, like an order he’ll have to obey or else face dire consequences, and then—before he can get too nervous—presses his finger to the buzzer corresponding to the label that says C.B. in slightly smudgy letters.
Hyunjin 之前去过 Chan 的公寓楼;他知道路。然而在黄昏中看起来有些不同。他依然清楚记得哪扇窗户是 Chan 的,从顶部数起的第三扇。我要记住这一刻的每一秒,他告诉自己,就像一个他必须遵守的命令,否则将面临严重后果,然后——在他变得太紧张之前——按下了与标签上写着 C.B.的门铃相对应的按钮。

The intercom only rings half a time before there’s a crackle and Chan’s very grainy voice, potent even over the speaker: “Hello?”
只响了半声门铃,Chan 的声音在扬声器上传来,虽然很模糊,但却很有力:“喂?”

Hyunjin leans in. “Who ordered a strippergram,” he murmurs.
Hyunjin 凑近。“谁订了脱衣舞男,”他低声说。

Chan laughs so loudly that Hyunjin imagines he can even hear it through the windows, all the way down here on the street; then the buzz of the door, and the unlocking, and then Hyunjin is inside.
Chan 笑声大作,Hyunjin 想象着他甚至能听到窗外传来的笑声,一直传到街上;然后是门口的嗡嗡声,门锁的声音,接着 Hyunjin 就进去了。

It’s nothing like the Hilton. Not that Hyunjin thought it would be—he’s just glad. It’s a real building where real people, including Chan, live. He walks past the rows of mailboxes and runs his fingers over Chan’s—labelled C. BANG. Hyunjin has never felt this way in his life, so charmed even by someone’s thoughtless inconsistency, so attracted to every possible facet of him, including the most plebeian details. It’s worse than starvation; nothing makes his hunger lessen, not even drinking directly from the lifeblood’s source. Other people in the building have two names written on their mailbox labels, and, blushing, Hyunjin can’t help but think that Bang-and-Hwang has a nice ring to it.
这里跟希尔顿酒店完全不同。尽管贤真也没指望会一样,但他很高兴。这是一个真实的建筑,真实的人,包括灿。他走过一排排邮箱,用手指轻轻划过灿的邮箱——标着 C. BANG。贤真从未有过这样的感觉,甚至被某人的粗心不一致所吸引,对他的每一个可能的方面都感到吸引,包括最普通的细节。这比饥饿还糟;没有任何东西能减轻他的饥渴,甚至直接从生命之源喝下去也无济于事。大楼里其他人的邮箱标签上写着两个名字,贤真不禁脸红,心想邦和黄听起来不错。

There’s no elevator, and as Hyunjin takes the stairs, he imagines Chan moving into this apartment, grunting and sweating while dragging a couch to his floor. Shirtless, naturally. It’s a very nice mental image. Had he done it alone, had friends help, hired a company? Knowing him, he’d done it alone, even though it had been unsustainably, impractically difficult. If he’d known Hyunjin at the time, Hyunjin would have come to help. Even though that “help” probably would have just been Hyunjin sitting on a furniture dolly and making pleading eyes for Chan to pull him around, to take a break, baby, you deserve it.
没有电梯,Hyunjin 走楼梯的时候,他想象着 Chan 搬进这间公寓的情景,一边嘟囔着一边满头大汗地拖着沙发上楼。光着上身,理所当然。这是一个非常美好的心理画面。他是独自搬的吗,还是有朋友帮忙,或者雇了公司?认识他的话,他肯定是独自搬的,即使这样做是不可持续的,不切实际的困难。如果当时他认识 Hyunjin,Hyunjin 肯定会去帮忙。尽管这个“帮忙”可能只是 Hyunjin 坐在家具搬运车上,用乞求的眼神看着 Chan 让他四处拉着自己转,休息一下吧,宝贝,你值得的。

“Up here,” calls Chan’s voice from above.
“在这里上来,”Chan 的声音从上面传来。

Hyunjin’s little worrier. As though he thinks Hyunjin might not know how an apartment building works. “I’m going as fast as I can,” he calls back, smiling already. “I’m not much of a hiker.”
Hyunjin 的小担心者。仿佛他觉得 Hyunjin 可能不知道公寓楼是怎么回事一样。“我尽快了,”他已经笑着回答。“我不太擅长爬山。”

“God,” Chan says, laughing. “Sorry.”
“天啊,”Chan 笑着说。“抱歉。”

“Ah-ah, you know the rule! That brings us up to, what, fifty now?” Hyunjin muses, and he takes the final step onto Chan’s floor, finds him there, half-out of his door, beaming, as pink-cheeked from being teased with the prospect of doing push-ups in exchange for needless apologies as Hyunjin is from the four flights of stairs.
“啊-啊,你知道规矩!这样一来,我们是不是已经到五十了?”Hyunjin 沉思着说,他走上最后一步,来到 Chan 的门口,发现他正站在那里,半身探出门外,笑得合不拢嘴,被逗着做俯卧撑以换取不必要的道歉的前景逗得满脸通红,就像 Hyunjin 因为爬了四层楼梯而气喘吁吁一样。

Playfully, Chan groans. “Does it count? We haven’t even started yet.”
Chan 顽皮地呻吟道。“算吗?我们甚至还没开始呢。”

“Of course we have,” Hyunjin says, puts his hands on Chan’s shoulders, and squarely kisses him. It’s not a whore-kiss; it is, deliberately, a boyfriend-kiss. He keeps it short and sweet before he pulls away and takes Chan’s hands instead. “Can I come in?”

Chan’s eyes had evidently managed to slip shut even in that tiny span of time, so he’s only blinking back to awareness when Hyunjin asks. Reddening further, he squeezes Hyunjin’s hands, then pushes his apartment door open with his hip. “Please. Welcome.”

Hyunjin crosses the threshold, unlooping his light chiffon scarf and taking his bag off his shoulder, passing both to Chan, who wordlessly hangs them up on a knobbly coat tree by the door. Hyunjin can’t look around fast enough, he can’t breathe sufficient air into his lungs. This is Chan’s home. This is where and how he lives. That’s his kitchen, with his mug in the sink. That’s the couch he’d lugged shirtlessly up the stairs. That’s his coat tree, with his jacket on it. And that’s… it. Hyunjin is speechless.

“I told you it wasn’t much,” Chan mutters, and even the way he closes his door behind Hyunjin sounds embarrassed.

Yes, but Hyunjin hadn’t thought he’d meant it this literally. He’d expected a small but cozy apartment, a little messy but still well lived-in, with hallmarks of Australia on bookshelves, random people’s business cards up on the fridge, scattered shoes, coffee mugs, music playing from a speaker in another room; instead, he’s standing in a large rental unit that’s so unfurnished and undecorated that he surely wouldn’t be remiss to assume Chan was squatting here, or moving out tomorrow after an urgent overseas job offer. Off-white walls, no posters, not even any scuff marks or old nail holes, entirely unmarred by any signs of life. It’s the Platonic ideal of a male living space—barely functional. Hyunjin takes a couple of steps further in and now he can see the lovely view from Chan’s windows—downtown, a bit of the river, the tail end of sunset—and, along a hallway, the open door to Chan’s bedroom, which is similarly barren, save for a truly spectacularly cushy-looking bed.

In this void of character, Hyunjin is overwhelmed—there are too many ways for him to interpret all of this. Does Chan not value himself enough to believe he deserves to live in a welcoming, personalized home? Has he never had anyone over here, not even Felix, who would care enough to help him set it up how he might like it, if he doesn’t know where to start on his own? Ludicrously, but not impossibly, has he pawned off all his belongings to afford Hyunjin? Hyunjin turns back, sees Chan still near the entryway, chewing on the edge of his thumbnail, and he knows beyond the shadow of a doubt—it’s the first scenario. Chan probably hates it here as much as he hates himself, but he has no idea how to begin fixing any of it, and doesn’t think it’s worth it to even try. Hyunjin aches. He breathes the warm, Chan-scented air. “I love it,” Hyunjin says softly, but because Paris doesn’t bullshit Chan, he adds coyly, “You should get some nice things in here. It’s not like you can’t afford it.”
在这个缺乏个性的空间里,贤振感到不知所措——有太多种方式让他去解释这一切。Chris 难道不觉得自己值得生活在一个温馨、个性化的家里吗?他从来没有邀请过任何人来这里,甚至连 Felix 也没有,谁会在乎帮他布置房间,如果他自己不知道从哪里开始吗?荒谬地,但并非不可能,他把所有的东西都变卖了来供养贤振吗?贤振转身看见 Chris 仍然站在门口附近,咬着拇指的边缘,他毫无疑问地知道——这是第一种情况。Chris 可能讨厌这里,就像他讨厌自己一样,但他根本不知道如何开始解决这一切,也不觉得值得去尝试。贤振心痛。他呼吸着温暖、Chris 的气味的空气。“我喜欢它,”贤振轻声说道,但因为巴黎不会对 Chris 说谎,他又加了一句嬉皮地,“你应该在这里弄些好东西。你完全有能力做到。”

Chan drops his hand from his mouth, blinking meaningfully at Hyunjin. Like he can’t believe he’s really here, or—
Chris 从嘴边收回手,有意义地眨眼看着贤振。就像他不敢相信自己真的在这里,或者—

“Oh,” Hyunjin says, lights up in a giggle and a blush, twirls a strand of his hair around his finger.

“Not—not that you’re a thing!” Chan blurts quickly, frantically. “I just—I just, I mean, you’re right, I can afford it, but I’m hopeless at interior decor and it doesn’t really matter to me, so I’d rather just concentrate on the things that do matter to—oh, God, seriously, I know you’re not a thing, I just—”

Hyunjin crosses the room in two long strides, kisses him before it can get any worse. Chan’s frozen for a moment, then melts, his hands coming up to hold Hyunjin’s slender forearms. “You should get more nice things in here, then,” Hyunjin murmurs against his lips, and Chan laughs, cut-off, relaxing, and starts to take him to his bedroom.
Hyunjin 迈着两大步穿过房间,在事情变得更糟之前吻了他。Chan 僵住了一会儿,然后融化了,双手抬起来握住 Hyunjin 纤细的前臂。“那么,你应该在这里放更多好东西,”Hyunjin 在他的嘴唇上低语道,Chan 笑了起来,被打断了,放松下来,开始把他带到卧室里。

On his own home turf, Chan is marginally tamer than Hyunjin has gotten used to him being; someone less devotedly observant than Hyunjin might not even notice, but Hyunjin notices. Maybe because a layer of anonymity has been stripped away. It must have taken a decent amount of trust to agree to Hyunjin’s offer to switch to in-call visits. Hyunjin is overtaken by tenderness, pushes Chan’s hair back so he can kiss him even more deeply, wants to do everything for him. Chan had let him in, and now, Hyunjin’s going to reciprocate that trust a thousandfold.
在自己的地盘上,Chan 比 Hyunjin 习惯的更加温顺一些;不那么专注的人可能甚至都察觉不到,但 Hyunjin 察觉到了。也许是因为一层匿名性被剥去了。同意 Hyunjin 的建议改为上门服务必须需要相当的信任。Hyunjin 被一种温柔所淹没,把 Chan 的头发拨开,这样他就可以更深情地吻他,想要为他做任何事情。Chan 让他进来了,现在,Hyunjin 将以千倍的信任回报他。

“When do you want me to do those push-ups, then,” Chan says, just as Hyunjin says, “I actually have a surprise for you tonight.”
“那么你想让我什么时候做俯卧撑呢,”Chan 说着,就在 Hyunjin 说:“今晚我其实有个惊喜给你。”

Against the doorframe to his bedroom, Chan pulls back from their kiss, eyebrows raising. “What’s the surprise? Paris, you didn’t have to.”

“How can you say that when you don’t even know what it is?” Hyunjin retorts, poking a finger into Chan’s chest. “Push-ups now.”
“你连是什么都不知道就这么说?现在俯卧撑。”Hyunjin 反驳道,戳了戳 Chan 的胸膛。

Chan sighs, resigned, and shows Hyunjin into his room, then—knowing the drill by now, having given up on his bright-red squawky I’m-no-eye-candy protestations somewhere around the push-up count reaching 20—strips off his shirt and drops to the floor. Hyunjin, smiling to himself but also openly checking out the muscles of Chan’s back and arms, sits on the edge of the bed to enjoy the show. Silently at first, counting in his head along with Chan, who isn’t wavering in pace or form in the slightest even as he gets past 30, and then he crosses his legs and idly says, “So, no one’s ever fucked me raw before. I guess that means I’ve been saving it for you. Interested?”
陈叹了口气,心甘情愿地领着贤振进了自己的房间,然后——现在已经熟悉了这一套,在做俯卧撑数达到 20 次左右时,他放弃了那种明亮红色的尖叫“我不是花瓶”的抗议——脱掉衬衫,倒在地板上。贤振对着陈背部和手臂的肌肉微笑着,但也公开地打量着,坐在床边欣赏着这场表演。一开始是默默地,心里跟着陈数着,即使超过 30 次,陈的速度和姿势也丝毫没有动摇,然后他交叉双腿,漫不经心地说:“所以,从来没有人生过我的孩子。我猜这意味着我一直在为你保留。有兴趣吗?”

Chan is so shocked that his right arm gives out and he flops to the floor, then immediately lifts up again to goggle at Hyunjin. Hyunjin is affecting calm; he’s keeping his face very still. This is a risky gambit, because although it’s true, what he’d just said, he knows a few things: one, that Chan has no reason to believe him; two, that Chan thinks he’s actively fucking possibly dozens of men on the regular, to whom he could possibly be saying the exact same thing; three, that he couldn’t be upset with Chan for turning this offer down, even though of course he would be. This gambit, like all his others, entirely depends on Chan somehow not managing to use a whit of critical thinking skills. If he needs proof, in Hyunjin’s bag, there’s also a printout from Hyunjin’s doctor, with his identifying information save for his birth date carefully blacked out, attesting to his spotless bill of sexual health as of two weeks ago—regular checkups paid for by the company’s excellent insurance, since Hyunjin is basically a luxury sports car that must be kept finely-tuned at all times. Hyunjin wants to offer to go get it, but he also wants Chan to say something, or at least do something. For now, Chan’s just staring.
陈感到如此震惊,他的右臂无力,摔倒在地,然后立即又站了起来,瞪大眼睛看着贤真。贤真装作镇定;他保持着面部的极度平静。这是一个冒险的策略,因为尽管他刚才说的是真的,但他知道一些事情:一、陈没有理由相信他;二、陈认为他可能在定期与数十名男人发生关系,他可能对每个人说的都是同样的话;三、尽管他当然会感到不快,但他不能因为陈拒绝这个提议而生气。这个策略,就像他的其他所有策略一样,完全依赖于陈不可能使用一丁点的批判性思维技能。如果他需要证据,在贤真的包里,还有一张贴着他的身份信息但生日小心涂黑的打印件,证明他两周前的性健康状况一切正常——定期体检由公司出色的保险支付,因为贤真基本上就像一辆必须随时保持良好状态的豪华跑车。贤真想要提出去拿来,但他也希望陈说些什么,或者至少做些什么。 此刻,Chan 只是盯着。

“It’s just an idea,” Hyunjin says, like he doesn’t care, just so it won’t be so quiet in here.

“Paris,” Chan says, moving up onto his knees—he’d fallen at 44, Hyunjin thinks, but he’ll just add an extra 6 to the tally for next time. If there is a next time. He’s resolutely not looking at Chan’s face—he knows he shouldn’t show vulnerability around him when he’s Paris, but right now, he can’t help it. Chan’s hands, gentle, curling around Hyunjin’s calves (where he’s so tight, fuck, he’d yowl if Chan dug his thumbs in). Chan waits until Hyunjin meets his eyes to speak again. “You trust me?”
“巴黎,”Chris 说着,跪了起来——他在 44 号跌倒了,Hyunjin 想,但他会在下次的计分中再加 6 分。如果还有下次的话。他坚定地不看 Chris 的脸——他知道当他是巴黎时不应该在他面前表现出脆弱,但现在,他控制不住。Chris 的手,温柔地环绕在 Hyunjin 的小腿上(他的肌肉紧绷,该死,如果 Chris 用拇指戳他,他会叫出声来)。Chris 等到 Hyunjin 对上他的眼睛才再次开口。“你信任我吗?”

“You trust me?” Hyunjin volleys back, but also softly, and his hand moves to cup Chan’s cheek, fingers stroking under his jaw. There’s that spot Chan sometimes misses while shaving, and today, it’s tender, it makes Chan hiss as Hyunjin touches what must be a nick. Hyunjin folds down, presses their foreheads together. “Yes,” he whispers, the world’s least secret secret.
“你信任我吗?”Hyunjin 反问,声音柔和,手移向抚摸 Chris 的脸颊,手指在他下巴下轻轻划过。那个 Chris 有时刮胡子时会错过的地方,今天,很嫩,当 Hyunjin 碰到那可能是个小口子时,Chris 发出嘶嘶声。Hyunjin 俯下身,把他们的额头贴在一起。“是的,”他低声说,这是世界上最不保密的秘密。”

“I do, too,” Chan whispers back, and Hyunjin can finally exhale in relief. “That’s—Paris, that’s—are you sure? You want me, me to?”
“我也是,”Chris 低声回答,Hyunjin 终于松了口气。“那个—巴黎,那个—你确定吗?你想要我,我吗?”

“Since telling you you’re special doesn’t do the trick, I’m switching to showing you,” Hyunjin says, fond. And he pulls Chan onto the bed with him.
「告诉你你很特别没用,我换个方式来表达,」Hyunjin 亲切地说道。他把 Chan 拉到床上。

Hyunjin loves it in Chan’s bed. He never wants to leave. Chan had probably changed his sheets for Hyunjin’s visit, so it’s all detergent-fresh and crisp and soft while Chan fingers him open so slow. Hyunjin is mostly on top of him, sprawled and gasping pliantly, and it’s so nice to be able to go between sucking on his neck and sucking on his tongue. Hyunjin’s not even nervous anymore. He knows Chan will be good to him. He’s always so good to him. “You’re always so good to me,” he moans, smearing another kiss to the corner of Chan’s mouth.
Hyunjin 喜欢在 Chan 的床上。他从不想离开。Chan 可能为了 Hyunjin 的到来换了床单,所以床单洗涤剂清新,又脆又软,而 Chan 却慢慢地用手指拉开他。Hyunjin 大部分时间都在他身上,横七竖八地喘着气,能够在吻他的脖子和吻他的舌头之间切换感觉真好。Hyunjin 不再紧张了。他知道 Chan 会对他好。他一直对他很好。「你对我总是那么好,」他呻吟着,在 Chan 嘴角再吻上一下。

Chan makes an incoherent noise, his perfect blunt fingers stretching Hyunjin open so loose and inviting. “I’ve never done—that before, either,” he confesses. Hyunjin had secretly, furiously been wondering, and the revelation makes him have to smother a sob in the curve of Chan’s neck. “No one’s ever stuck around.”
Chan 发出一声含糊不清的声音,他那完美的钝指头轻松地拉开 Hyunjin,让他感到宽松而又诱人。「我以前也从没做过那个,」他坦白道。Hyunjin 秘密地、愤怒地一直在想,这个启示让他不得不在 Chan 脖子的弧线处抑制住一声啜泣。「从来没有人留下过。」

“I’m not going anywhere,” Hyunjin vows. Ever. “Chan, Chan—I’m ready, please fuck me, I need you to fill me up so bad.”
“我不会走的,”Hyunjin 发誓。永远不会。“Chan,Chan——我准备好了,请干我,我需要你填满我,太需要了。”

“Baby,” Chan groans, and it’s probably not the first time he’s echoed Hyunjin’s nickname, but it’s never been this potent. Hyunjin’s shaking so hard that Chan has to wrap his arms around him tightly, once he’s pulled his fingers out. The hold makes it easy for Chan to gentle Hyunjin onto his side, face to face with Hyunjin’s leg cast around Chan’s hips. What an intimate position—in Chan’s home, in his bed, breaths mingling, Hyunjin’s hands pleading up Chan’s arms as Chan pushes between his thighs, lines up, and it’s urgent, it’s electric, it’s too sensitive, Hyunjin twitches and whimpers frantically and Chan soothes him, kisses him, takes care of him—fucks into him. Finally.
“宝贝,”Chan 呻吟着,这可能不是他第一次重复 Hyunjin 的绰号,但从来没有这么有力量过。Hyunjin 颤抖得如此厉害,以至于 Chan 必须紧紧地搂住他,一旦他把手指拔出来。这个拥抱让 Chan 很容易把 Hyunjin 温柔地转到他的身边,面对面,Hyunjin 的腿绕在 Chan 的臀部。多么亲密的姿势——在 Chan 的家里,在他的床上,呼吸交融,Hyunjin 的双手沿着 Chan 的手臂乞求着,当 Chan 在他的大腿之间推进时,排列在一起,这是紧迫的,这是电动的,这是太敏感了,Hyunjin 痉挛着,疯狂地呻吟着,Chan 安抚着他,亲吻着他,照顾着他——在他里面。终于。

And it really does feel raw; it really does feel bare. Hyunjin isn’t breathing, and neither is Chan, both just adjusting to the entirely new sensation. With anyone else, Hyunjin is sure this might be uncomfortable. With Chan, though, it’s completion, it’s nature, it’s destiny. Hyunjin’s mouth has dropped open and he’s drooling onto Chan’s pillow, and Chan isn’t moving at all—a particular restraint Hyunjin recognizes from when Chan’s trying not to cum too fast. Hyunjin, helpless, so in love he doesn’t even know how to be human anymore, nuzzles his face urgently to Chan’s, giving him carte blanche with his body, and there’s the brush of Chan’s rough thumbpad over Hyunjin’s hipbone, the only warning Hyunjin gets before Chan starts to actually move.
这种感觉真的很原始;真的很裸露。Hyunjin 没有呼吸,Chan 也是,两人都在适应这种全新的感觉。对于其他人,Hyunjin 确定这可能会让人感到不舒服。但对于 Chan 来说,这是完成,是自然,是命运。Hyunjin 的嘴巴张开了,口水滴在 Chan 的枕头上,而 Chan 一动不动——一种特别的克制,Hyunjin 从 Chan 试图不要射得太快时就认识到了。Hyunjin 无助地如此爱着,以至于他甚至不知道如何再做一个人类,急切地把脸凑到 Chan 的脸上,让他随意使用自己的身体,然后 Chan 粗糙的拇指在 Hyunjin 的髋骨上划过,这是 Hyunjin 得到的唯一警告,然后 Chan 开始真正地动了。

His strokes are slow and feel so much deeper in this position, with nothing between them. Hyunjin’s cock is drooling, too, and the intimacy is suffocating. “It’s even better,” he chokes out. “Even better than I dreamed.”

“You, too,” Chan says, shaky, always the old romantic, even as he’s fucking deep into Hyunjin’s guts, claiming him in an entirely new way, impressing himself on Hyunjin’s very molecules. “You feel unreal, Paris.”

“Real,” Hyunjin says, clings to him with every part of his body. “I’m real. And I’m all yours.”

“Fuck,” Chan exhales. He buries his head in Hyunjin’s neck, bucks his hips into him more unevenly, more desperately. “Ah, Paris. God, I can’t get enough of you.”
“靠,”Chan 喘息着。他把头埋在 Hyunjin 的脖子里,更加不规则地,更加绝望地扭动着臀部。“啊,巴黎。天啊,我对你欲罢不能。”

Hyunjin can’t smother this next sob; it’s followed in quick succession by a mewl, then a moan, and too many whimpers to count. He drags his hands over Chan’s skin. He tongue-kisses him so filthy that he can hear their spit swapping, even over the equally obscene sound of Chan driving in and out of him. Something tight in Hyunjin has been unwound, and he feels so much lighter, so much closer to whole, to complete. Chan finishing inside him will finish the job; Hyunjin can ascend then and there, his earthly work all done.
Hyunjin 无法控制接下来的啜泣;紧接着是一声嗷叫,然后是一声呻吟,以及太多无法计数的呜咽声。他的手在 Chan 的皮肤上摩擦。他们舌吻得如此肮脏,以至于他能听到他们的口水交换声,甚至盖过了 Chan 在他体内进出时同样淫秽的声音。Hyunjin 体内的某种紧绷感已经被解开,他感觉轻松许多,更接近完整,更完整。Chan 在他体内完结会完成这份工作;Hyunjin 可以在那时升华,他的尘世工作全部完成。

Chan feels even bigger like this. Chan is holding him so tightly by the middle, one arm under his body, the other hitched around his waist, fingers digging into his ass. Working him. Working them together. Chan isn’t so much fucking him, and Hyunjin isn’t so much fucking himself on Chan, as they’re letting their bodies move so naturally, like water, like currents. No, Hyunjin’s never going anywhere, he’s never leaving Chan, he can’t imagine ever letting anyone else even so much as hug him ever again. Not after learning how good his body can feel when Chan fucks him like this. Like it’s what they were both made for, and maybe, considering everything it took to get them to this point, they were.
这样的情况下,Chan 感觉更加强大。Chan 紧紧地抱着他的腰,一只手在他的身体下,另一只手搂着他的腰,手指深深地插进他的屁股里。让他们一起努力。Chan 并不是在猛烈地抽插他,Hyunjin 也不是在 Chan 身上猛烈地抽插自己,他们只是让身体自然地移动,像水流一样,像洋流一样。不,Hyunjin 永远不会离开这里,他永远不会离开 Chan,他无法想象自己会让其他人甚至是拥抱他。在学会了当 Chan 这样抽插他时,他的身体可以感受到多么美妙之后。就好像这就是他们两个的存在意义,也许,考虑到他们走到这一步所经历的一切,他们就是为了这一刻而存在的。

Before too long, Chan presses Hyunjin onto his back. On top of him, he looks so strong, even though he’s flushed and trembling, too. How does it feel even deeper still? “I can feel you in my throat,” Hyunjin slurs. “I can feel you—here—” A hand to his neck, then falling to cover his pounding heart. “Don’t stop until I’m overflowing.”
不久之后,Chan 将 Hyunjin 按倒在床上。在他身上,他看起来如此强壮,尽管他的脸红了,也在颤抖。这样感觉更加深入吗?“我感觉到你在我的喉咙里,”Hyunjin 含糊地说。“我感觉到你——在这里——” 一只手放在他的脖子上,然后落在他砰砰跳动的心脏上。“直到我溢出为止,不要停下来。”

Chan nods fervently, then drops, braced on his elbows—more of a low plank than a push-up—and, Hyunjin’s head bracketed between his forearms, kisses him, licks his mouth out. He must be overwhelmed, too; Hyunjin’s heart is throbbing, his cock is weeping, and vice versa. They’ve done so many things together already—when Hyunjin looks back on his experiences prior to having met Chan, entirely polite missionary with the rarest, most hesitant singular spank to his right ass cheek, he wants to laugh until he cries. And yet this is the wildest of them all, and it’s ostensibly so vanilla, no real frills about it. It’s just that it’s perfect. Chan’s perfect. Hyunjin has never loved like this; he didn’t know he was made for it until he felt it. He feels it now. He feels it, he really feels it. Tears in his eyes, he feels it rocket through him, like a bullet train on a model track. If not for Chan kissing him again and again and again like he can’t breathe without it, he’d probably scream loud enough for the whole building to call for help.

What nearly sends him into an eye-rolling consecutive orgasm is the way Chan doesn’t break stride to check on him, or ask if he’s okay; he just keeps going. Trusting that Hyunjin will tell him if he needs a break—confident in taking what he needs. Doing what Hyunjin had begged him to do. Hyunjin can’t do anything anymore. Loving him is lying there and staring, eyes dazed and glossy with tears threatening to spill down his cheeks, because Chan is happy, and Chan feels good, and Chan is trusting and trusted and cherishing and cherished, and then, of course, most crucially, stabbing in to the very hilt with a gasp of Ah! and Hyunjin feels that, too, feels the surging spill, how much wetter and slicker everything suddenly gets, and then the overflow, dripping onto Chan’s sheets because Chan, as begged, doesn’t stop.
几乎让他连续眼球翻白的原因是,Chan 不停下来询问他是否没事,他只是继续前行。相信 Hyunjin 会告诉他如果需要休息 — 自信地拿走他所需的一切。做 Hyunjin 曾恳求他做的事。Hyunjin 什么都做不了了。爱他就是躺在那里凝视,眼睛迷离而泪眼朦胧,泪水威胁着要滑落下来,因为 Chan 很开心,Chan 感觉很好,Chan 信任且受到信任,珍惜且被珍惜,然后,当然,最关键的是,深深刺入,发出一声啊的喘息,Hyunjin 也感受到了,感受到了涌动的溢出,一切突然变得更湿更滑,然后溢出,滴落在 Chan 的床单上,因为 Chan,如所求,没有停下来。

He does eventually slow, though, lowering himself even further to lie on top of Hyunjin. The best, most satisfying crush into the mattress. Hyunjin could purr; he could sing. If he had control over his body at all anymore after relinquishing it so wholly to Chan, that is. Chan hasn’t pulled out. Hyunjin hopes Chan can feel how deliriously Hyunjin wants to start a family with him. Utterly boneless, Hyunjin can’t even particularly reciprocate when Chan kisses him, but he does his best, and it makes Chan exhale an amused breath. “Earth to Paris.”
他最终还是放慢了速度,甚至更低地躺在 Hyunjin 身上。这是最好的、最令人满足的压在床垫上。Hyunjin 可以发出喉音;他可以歌唱。如果他在完全将自己交给 Chan 之后还有任何对身体的控制的话。Chan 还没有退出。Hyunjin 希望 Chan 能感受到他有多么狂热地想和他开始一个家庭。完全无力,Hyunjin 甚至在 Chan 吻他时也无法特别回应,但他尽力了,这让 Chan 发出一声带有笑意的呼气。“地球呼叫巴黎。”

“Paris is not on Earth right now,” Hyunjin rasps.
“巴黎现在不在地球上,”Hyunjin 嘶哑地说。

Another huffy laugh, and Chan rolls off to the side, but pulls Hyunjin close; a quick trick of position doesn’t even give Hyunjin a moment to squeal in protest once Chan pulls out, since Chan has three fingers tucked inside him in a flash. Keeping him full. Keeping him wet. Hyunjin’s sigh is wavering and adoring as he burrows into Chan’s chest. “Can I have one free ‘sorry?’” Chan asks.
又是一阵不悦的笑声,Chan 侧身滚开,但拉着 Hyunjin 靠近;一个快速的动作让 Hyunjin 甚至没时间在 Chan 退出后尖叫抗议,因为 Chan 迅速地用三根手指塞进他里面。让他充实。让他湿润。Hyunjin 的叹息摇曳着崇拜,他钻进 Chan 的胸膛。“我可以有一个免费的‘抱歉’吗?”Chan 问。

“Mm. Depends on for what.”

“For questioning your surprise,” Chan says, smile audible. “Consider this a lesson very much learned.”
“为了质疑你的惊讶,”Chan 说道,笑声传来。“认为这是一个非常宝贵的教训。”

Hyunjin’s face hurts from all the contortions of moaning, but now from smiling, too. “Happy to help.”
现在,Hyunjin 的脸因为扭曲而呻吟而受伤,也因为微笑而受伤。“很高兴能帮上忙。”

Chan nuzzles down to catch him out in another kiss. “You doing okay? Can I get you anything?”

“Already did,” Hyunjin mumbles. “Just be here with me, Chan. I have everything I want and need right here.”

Chan goes quiet, kisses Hyunjin’s upper lip, then his cheekbone, then just pulls him into his chest again. His fingers are a nice satisfying pressure, even as Hyunjin cools. His other hand is brushing nonsense patterns over Hyunjin’s damp shoulderblades. He typically bounces back pretty fast after they fuck, while Hyunjin is typically left to lie there uselessly and struggle for coherence. But now, he’s taking longer than he usually does, and Hyunjin is inordinately proud of himself—both of them, really.
Chan 安静下来,亲吻 Hyunjin 的上唇,然后是他的颧骨,然后再次将他拉入怀中。他的手指施加着令人满意的压力,即使 Hyunjin 在冷却。他的另一只手在 Hyunjin 潮湿的肩胛骨上划着无意义的图案。通常,他们做完爱后,他会很快恢复过来,而 Hyunjin 通常只能无助地躺在那里,努力保持清醒。但现在,他比平时花的时间更长,Hyunjin 为自己感到非常自豪——实际上,他们两个都是。

“Chan,” Hyunjin prompts quietly, and Chan hums to acknowledge he’s awake and listening. It reverberates through him; Hyunjin shivers, nestles closer. “I really was saving it for you.”
“灿,” 灿轻声提示,灿发出嗯的声音表示他醒着在听。声音在他体内回荡;玄辰打了个寒颤,更紧地依偎过去。“我真的是为你留着的。”

A breath that tickles the top of Hyunjin’s head. “You didn’t even know me a few months ago.” Not irritated or confused, though—he sounds curious, wanting to believe.
一口气轻轻吹拂在玄辰头顶。“几个月前你甚至都不认识我。” 但并非生气或困惑,他听起来充满好奇,希望相信。

“Doesn’t matter,” Hyunjin whispers. Besides, yes, I did. Knew you. Wanted you. Loved you, already. “I needed you. I knew I’d find you eventually. Lucky me, getting you so soon.”
“无所谓,” 玄辰低声说。再说,是的,我认识你。想要你。已经爱上你了。“我需要你。我知道我迟早会找到你。我很幸运,这么快就得到了你。”

There’s a slightly awed silence, and then Hyunjin feels the gentle pressure of Chan’s lips against his hair. “Paris, you’re incredible. I don’t even know how you come up with these things.”

The acknowledgement of the pretense no longer hurts; Hyunjin has been able to see the envelope with his cash, hidden in plain sight on top of Chan’s nightstand, out of the corner of his eye this entire time. But there’s only so much lying Hyunjin is capable of in one go. “Well,” he murmurs, “there’s a grain of truth in every good story, isn’t there?”
不再伤人的假装承认;Hyunjin 一直能看到信封里装着他的现金,就在 Chan 的床头柜上摆着,一直在他的视线范围内。但 Hyunjin 一次能说谎的能力是有限的。“嗯,”他低声说,“每个好故事里都有一粒真相,不是吗?”

Abruptly, Chan laughs, and it’s an awkward laugh, a self-conscious one. He can’t handle that; Hyunjin knows he can’t, and he shouldn’t have said it. But Chan has already moved on, pulling his fingers out—slowly, gently, and with apologetic, soothing rubs to Hyunjin’s thigh. “Hey, wanna see the second-nicest thing in my apartment right now?”

“You’ll have to carry me.”

“Deal,” Chan says, and takes Hyunjin where he wants him.
“成交。”Chan 说道,然后把 Hyunjin 带到他想要的地方。

It turns out to be a Smeg toaster. They both look at it. “Have you ever used it?” Hyunjin attempts.
结果是一台 Smeg 烤面包机。他们都看着它。“你用过吗?”Hyunjin 试探着问道。

“…Nope.” “……没有。”

“Did you even get it for yourself?”

“Housewarming gift,” Chan admits, cringing into a laugh, and Hyunjin nips at his jaw—that tender place—before kissing him on the cheek and laughing, too. “Sorry, I guess I misremembered it being a little more exciting than it is.”
“新居开张礼物,”Chan 承认,尴尬地笑着,Hyunjin 啃了一口他的下巴—那个娇嫩的地方—然后在他的脸颊上亲了一口,也笑了。“抱歉,我记错了,可能比我记得的要有趣一点。”

“Hey,” Hyunjin says, pulling on his earlobe. “You still owe me six from earlier, mister, so you just earned yourself 61 total push-ups.”
“嘿,”Hyunjin 拉着他的耳垂说。“你之前欠我的六个,先生,所以你刚刚赚了自己 61 个俯卧撑。”

“Nooo,” Chan groans. He adjusts his hold on Hyunjin in his arms, looks at him with a pleading pout. “Isn’t there anything else you’d rather watch me do, to make it up to you?”
“不要啊,”Chan 抱怨道。他调整了怀里的 Hyunjin,用一副恳求的嘟嘴看着他。“难道你没有其他想让我做的事情,来弥补吗?”

Hyunjin regards him. Flushed, shy, earnest, needing so much, wanting it so badly, getting one millimeter closer to accepting it every day. Hyunjin could do this forever. Could love him forever. And I will. “Take me back to bed. I guess I have a couple ideas.”
Hyunjin 看着他。脸红,害羞,真诚,渴望着,每天都在渐渐接受,离接受更近了一毫米。Hyunjin 可以永远这样做下去。可以永远爱他。而我会。“带我回床上吧。我想我有几个主意。”




> [photo] What do you think of this?

what is it? 这是什么?

> Haha… Okay. I guess that’s a no.
> 哈哈...好的。我猜这是个拒绝。

no, i just literally can’t tell what it is from the photo.

> Oh, whoops. Hang on.
> 哦,糟糕。等一下。

> [photo2] How about now? It’s a fruit bowl.
> [photo2] 现在呢?这是一个水果碗。

it’s very nice! 太好了!

> Good, I’m glad you think so.
> 好的,我很高兴你这么认为。

> Thanks! x > 谢谢!x

hold on.  稍等片刻。

are you out shopping for nice things for your apartment since i said you should get some?

> … Guilty as charged ^^;;
> …有罪了^^;;

and you’re starting with a fruit bowl.

how much fruit do you eat?

> A lot, I guess.
> 我想应该吃了不少。

it shows. 看得出来。

> Huh? > 嗯?


yum 好吃

> 我花了一分钟

> PARIS!!!! > 巴黎!!!!

:) :)

you deserve an even nicer fruit bowl. i’ll send you some links.

> Okay… > 好的…

> Thank you. Sorry for bothering you.
> 谢谢你。抱歉打扰你。


> God damn it
> 该死的




Hyunjin’s shaking to his knees. His face, though, is perfectly calm, pulled smooth by the tight way he’d gathered his hair (and, fuck, he needs a touch-up and a trim) at the crown of his head. He’s next. He can hear the pianist starting and stopping in the audition room. Felix went earlier today; if Hyunjin thinks about the fact that Svetlana Dmitrievna and the director both already have the standard of Felix to compare Hyunjin to, all his progress, all his growth, all the ways he loves himself now thanks to Paris and to Chan—it’ll all go out the fucking window, and then he’ll follow. To try and calm himself, he closes his eyes and lists all the roles that are currently, in theory, available across this season’s twin productions of Swan Lake.
Hyunjin 颤抖着跪了下来。不过,他的脸却完全镇定,因为他把头发紧紧地梳在头顶(该死,他需要修整一下)。接下来轮到他了。他听到钢琴师在试听室里开始和停止。Felix 今天早些时候已经去过了;如果 Hyunjin 想到斯维特拉娜·德米特里耶夫娜和导演已经有了 Felix 的水准来比较 Hyunjin,他所有的进步、成长以及因为巴黎和 Chan 而爱自己的方式都将付诸东流,然后他也会跟着倒下。为了让自己冷静下来,他闭上眼睛,列举了本季双重制作《天鹅湖》中目前理论上可用的所有角色。

In one—the traditional, family-friendly, good-ending Swan Lake that everybody knows—Hyunjin’s options are limited. He knows they’re bringing outside talent in for Siegfried and von Rothbart. Even Felix, he knows, won’t be a contender there. At least they’ll be together in the ensemble.
在一个——传统的、适合全家观看、结局美好的《天鹅湖》中,每个人都知道的那个版本——Hyunjin 的选择有限。他知道他们会为西格弗里德和冯·罗斯巴特请外部人才。即使是 Felix,他也知道,在那里不会是竞争者。至少他们会在舞蹈团里在一起。

And then, more excitingly, Bourne’s audacious Swan Lake, the very same ballet that shaped Hyunjin’s childhood dreams. Replacing the traditionally all-female corps de ballet with shirtless men—the central love story going from a treacly heteropessimist fantasy into a poignant and complex tale of two boys. That could be Hyunjin’s chance to truly shine. The Prince. The Swan. The Stranger.

The door opens. Hyunjin’s eyes snap open, too. Out scampers a girl Hyunjin’s danced with more than a few times, but he can never quite remember her name. He remembers her hypermobility, though. His shoulder joints ache in concert with hers. She—clean face giving nothing away—holds the door for him. He goes in.

Svetlana Dmitrievna and the director, a sloe-eyed Frenchman, are at a fold-out table in front of the mirrors. As Hyunjin glides in, Svetlana Dmitrievna turns her head to murmur something to the director; he shuffles through the papers on the table. A stab of poison settles into Hyunjin’s stomach, but he breathes. “Hyunjin Hwang,” he says, smiling. “Twenty-two. Corps.”
斯维特兰娜·德米特里耶夫娜和那位导演,一个眼睛深邃的法国人,坐在镜子前的折叠桌旁。当 Hyunjin 滑入时,斯维特兰娜·德米特里耶夫娜转过头对导演低声说了些什么;他在桌子上翻阅文件。一股毒箭刺入 Hyunjin 的胃,但他深呼吸。“Hyunjin Hwang,”他微笑着说。“22 岁。舞蹈团。”

“Hello, Hyunjin,” says the director. “What will you be dancing for us today?”

“Bourne’s pas de deux.” “伯恩的双人舞。”

Svetlana Dmitrievna speaks up: “By yourself?”

Hyunjin wishes she wouldn’t say anything at all—he has a Pavlovian dread response to her accent by now. He stands taller to counteract the sudden childlike feeling. “Yes,” he says, and swallows. “As the Swan.”
现在,Hyunjin 希望她什么都不说 —— 他对她的口音已经有了一种条件反射般的恐惧反应。他站得更高,以抵消突如其来的孩子般的感觉。“是的,”他说,并吞了口水。“作为天鹅。”

“Whenever you’re ready,” says the director.

Hyunjin smooths his hands down his sides and takes three more breaths. Then he nods to the pianist, and then he dances.
Hyunjin 抚平了双手,深吸了三口气。然后他向钢琴师点了点头,然后开始跳舞。

It overtakes him. He’s been practicing so much; he knows Svetlana Dmitrievna knows how much he’s been practicing. It’s a mirrored dance, a sensuous one, between the Prince and the Swan. In a dream. Hyunjin spreads his wings and flies, and he’s not dancing by himself—he never is, anymore. The way he beckons and beguiles, the way he entrances and enchants—it’s all for one man, it’s only ever been for him. There may as well be another figure in the room, standing still while Hyunjin whirlwinds around him. He can see him. He can nearly see him. It’s glorious, to dance like this for Chan. To be in his orbit, pulled so inexorably by the gravity of his need. It’s another way of expressing his feelings with his body—that’s in one small part what he loves so much about ballet. The noblest art, the most painful. Completely unnatural contortions that access something so fundamental, so true. Like this, even though it’s often painful, he can reveal his entire physical capacity for love. He knows how beautiful he is. This is how he was built to be used. It’s what he was made for, to be as beautiful as a human being can possibly be, to let his love flow through him, through to the tips of his fingers. When he jumps, he lingers in the air—his stomach flips in the absence of gravity—he could be weightless, he could be hollow, he could really be flying—
它超越了他。他练习得如此之多;他知道斯维特拉娜·德米特里耶夫娜知道他练习得有多努力。这是一场镜像舞蹈,一个充满感官的舞蹈,王子和天鹅之间的。在梦中。贤振展开他的翅膀飞翔,他并不是在独自跳舞——他再也不是了。他引诱和迷惑的方式,他迷住和陶醉的方式——这一切都是为了一个人,一直都是为了他。房间里可能还有另一个人物,静静地站在那里,而贤振则在他周围旋转。他能看见他。他几乎能看见他。为陈跳舞是多么美好。被他的引力无情地拉向他的轨道。这是用身体表达感情的另一种方式——这正是他如此热爱芭蕾舞的一小部分原因。最高贵的艺术,最痛苦的。完全不自然的扭曲,却能触及某种如此根本、如此真实的东西。即使经常是痛苦的,通过这种方式,他可以展现出自己对爱的全部身体能力。他知道自己有多美丽。这就是他被创造来被使用的方式。 这就是他的使命,要尽可能地美丽,让他的爱流淌,延伸至他手指的尖端。当他跳跃时,他在空中停留片刻——他的胃在失重的状态下翻转——他可能是无重的,他可能是空洞的,他可能真的在飞翔——

“Hvan,” Svetlana Dmitrievna says, silencing the pianist with a sharp raise of her hand.

Hyunjin, mid-air in the quiet, lands very nearly awkwardly, but although he wobbles, he doesn’t fall; he’s panting, off-kilter, frantic. Torn from the fantasy too soon. “Yes?”

“You’re somewhere else,” Svetlana Dmitrievna says. She’s frowning. “You are very nervous?”

Why is she doing this in front of the director? If he’s not doing a good job, can’t she just let him humiliate himself, then humiliate him separately later? Hyunjin takes a gulp of a breath and straightens out a strand of hair that has slipped loose. “I can do it again,” he offers and hopes it doesn’t sound like a plea.
她为什么要当着导演的面这样做?如果他表现不好,她为什么不让他自取其辱,然后单独羞辱他呢?Hyunjin 深吸一口气,整理了一缕散乱的头发。“我可以再试一次,”他提议,希望听起来不像是乞求。

Tiny mercies: Svetlana Dmitrievna doesn’t say anything, just looks to the director. At least the casting isn’t entirely up to her—maybe she hasn’t told the director everything about how lazy, sloppy, and incompetent Hyunjin is, and maybe he’s made a good impression in the last two minutes. The director looks at Hyunjin, down at the papers on the table, at the clock on the opposite wall, and back to Hyunjin. “Sure,” he finally says.
微小的恩惠:Svetlana Dmitrievna 什么都没说,只是看向导演。至少演员的选择并不完全取决于她——也许她没有告诉导演关于 Hyunjin 懒惰、粗心和无能的一切,也许他在过去的两分钟里给导演留下了好印象。导演看着 Hyunjin,看着桌子上的文件,看着对面墙上的时钟,然后又看着 Hyunjin。“好吧,”他最终说道。

Hyunjin does it again. The phantom image of Chan flickers as Hyunjin spins around him, with him. Maybe Hyunjin has too much heart—he tries to keep it guarded, this time, dance only with his body rather than his soul. More precise, if less passionate. Three more minutes and it’s over. Then two. Then one.
Hyunjin 又做到了。Chan 的幻影在 Hyunjin 身旁闪烁,随着他一起旋转。也许 Hyunjin 的心太过火热 — 这一次,他试图保持克制,只用身体而非灵魂跳舞。更加精准,但少了激情。再过三分钟就结束了。然后两分钟。最后一分钟。

“Thank you,” says the director. Svetlana Dmitrievna says nothing and she isn’t even looking at Hyunjin, who, breathing from his diaphragm, wonders if he’s finally done it, if he’s finally shown her what he can do. “We’ll let you know.”

“Thank you so much,” Hyunjin says, “thank you.” As elegantly as he can muster, he takes a bow. Nothing on either face across the table, not a flicker of a smile, not a frown. Hyunjin waits for one more breath, and then he’s gone.

Felix is waiting outside the room, having materialized seemingly out of nowhere, and they wordlessly hug tight enough to hurt, swaying each other from side to side. All Hyunjin can think is I wish Chan could have wished me luck.




The waiting’s killer, but Chan makes it easier to pass the time. He calls Hyunjin up one non-Friday evening after class and says, sounding odd and fidgety, “Hey—I won’t say the s-word. Are you doing anything right now?”
等待真是折磨,但 Chan 让时间过得更轻松些。一天非星期五的晚上下课后,他打电话给 Hyunjin,声音听起来有些奇怪和坐立不安,“嘿 — 我不会说那个词。你现在在忙什么吗?”

“No,” Hyunjin says. He really isn’t; he’s just lying on his bed, staring at the ceiling, trying to keep his mind as blank as possible so he doesn’t let his hopes get too high. Hearing Chan, though, has him beating like a drum, sitting up, moving. “How are you?”

On the other end of the line, Chan exhales tightly, then lowers his voice. “I’m just—I thought I’d try taking myself out for dinner, but this is actually very awkward and I don’t like it. Do you—if you’re really not busy—would you like to join me? Maybe? I know it’s such short notice, I completely understand if—”

“Where?” Hyunjin says, already crossing to the closet to start pulling on his Paris costume.

Chan tells him the name of a nice restaurant. Hyunjin looks it up and sees that it’s only a few minutes away from Felix’s apartment. He tries not to read too far into that. Into the invitation, though, he’s reading about as far as it gets, and it’s making him giddy. He’s been avoiding mirrors, but now, he looks right into the one on his closet door, and smiles as he says, “I’m on my way.”

The restaurant has all the dim-light, gold-fixture gloss Hyunjin would expect of a place of this caliber. The waiters have a nervy, anticipatory look in their eyes as they churn through the dining room. Hyunjin ignores them and, indeed, everything around him, simply making a beeline for Chan’s table, following the directions Chan had texted him. Chan (who had just been frowning intently at the menu) looks up and spots him—Hyunjin can’t help breaking into a little smile—and stands, so proper, and when Hyunjin reaches him, so naturally, they kiss.
餐厅拥有所有金色装饰的昏暗灯光,这正是质量如此高档的地方所应有的。 服务员们眼中带着紧张而期待的神色穿梭于就餐区。 灏晋无视他们,实际上也无视周围的一切,径直朝着灿的桌子走去,按照灿发来的短信指示。 灿(刚刚还在专注地皱着眉头看菜单)抬头看见了他——灏晋情不自禁地露出微笑——站起身来,如此得体,当灏晋走到他身边时,两人自然而然地亲吻。

“Thank you for coming,” Chan says, fine worn lines around his eyes, hair brushed neatly the way it hardly ever is when Hyunjin gets to see him. Office clothes. He looks so good, so normal—he’s exactly what Hyunjin needs, especially now. Smiling up at Hyunjin, he steps aside, then goes around to pull Hyunjin’s chair out for him. “I haven’t even ordered yet. Honestly, I feel like the waiters are mad at me for just sitting here nursing my ice water.”
“谢谢你过来,”Chan 说着,眼睛周围有细微的皱纹,头发整齐地梳理着,这在 Hyunjin 见到他时几乎从未见过。办公室的着装。他看起来很好,很正常 — 这正是 Hyunjin 现在需要的,尤其是现在。微笑着看着 Hyunjin,他让开一边,然后绕到后面为 Hyunjin 拉出椅子。“我甚至还没点菜呢。老实说,我觉得服务员可能在生我气,因为我只是坐在这里喝我的冰水。”

Hyunjin, unable to stop that little smile from growing, sits. “So you basically just called me as soon as you walked in?”
Hyunjin 忍不住微笑,坐下。“所以你基本上一进来就给我打电话了?”

“Basically, yeah,” Chan says with an unselfconscious shrug, and sits, too. Hyunjin has been numb for days, so all of this sudden positive emotion is very nearly overwhelming, and he’s so grateful to Chan, feels so appreciated by him, that he has to clear his throat around a lump as he looks down at his own unfolded menu.
“基本上是的,”Chan 毫不自觉地耸耸肩,也坐了下来。Hyunjin 已经麻木了好几天,所以突然间这么多积极的情绪几乎让他难以承受,他对 Chan 如此感激,感到如此受到他的欣赏,以至于他不得不在看着自己展开的菜单时清了清嗓子,感到一阵激动。

Is he hungry? He can’t remember the last time he ate. He should be hungry. And, actually, Chan’s paying—he has to, per Paris’s rules—so there’s no need to be modest with the order. But all of this feels like a big step, from the spontaneity to the public nature of it. Someone from Chan’s work could walk in. Felix could walk in. Suddenly, Hyunjin is restless, prickly, and when Chan says something, he misses it, and has to glance up and prompt him to repeat himself with a, “Hmm?”
他饿了吗?他想不起上次吃东西是什么时候了。他应该饿才对。而且,实际上,Chan 在付钱 —— 根据巴黎的规矩,他必须这样做 —— 所以点菜时没必要客气。但所有这一切都感觉像是一个很大的进展,从即兴到公开的性质。Chan 工作的人可能会进来。Felix 可能会进来。突然间,Hyunjin 感到不安,烦躁,当 Chan 说话时,他错过了,不得不抬头示意他重复一遍,“嗯?”

“I said, what are you in the mood for,” Chan says, smiling. “I’ve actually never been here before, so I can’t recommend anything.”
“我说,你想吃什么?”Chan 微笑着说。“我以前从来没来过这里,所以我没法推荐什么。”

What is Hyunjin in the mood for? He blinks back down at the menu, at a loss. “I’ll just tell the waiter to pick,” he says, since that’ll make him sound confident and cosmopolitan, but then he ruins it all by inadvertently adding, “I’m not really that hungry.”
Hyunjin 想吃什么?他茫然地看着菜单。“我就让服务员挑吧,”他说,因为这样会让他听起来自信又见多识广,但接着他不小心补充道,“我其实没那么饿。”

Chan’s face falls, and he sets his menu down. “Oh. Paris—”

“I want to be here,” Hyunjin rushes to say, reaching across the table to cover Chan’s hand with his own. “I’m so, so glad you called, Chan. I’d go anywhere with you.”

It might be too much; Chan might want him to be off the clock, as it were. Hyunjin doesn’t breathe until Chan squeezes his hand. “We don’t have to stay,” Chan says softly. “I’ll eat fast.”

Hyunjin leans down to kiss the back of Chan’s knuckles. If he’s going all-in, he may as well go all-in. Commit, instead of shying away from it, like the coward that Svetlana Dmitrievna sees him as. “Take your time,” he says, straightening. “I can’t imagine a better place to be.”
Hyunjin 俯身亲吻 Chan 手背。如果他要全力以赴,那么他就应该全力以赴。不像 Svetlana Dmitrievna 眼中看到的那样胆小。他挺直身子,“慢慢来,”他说。“我想不出比这更好的地方了。”

Chan’s expression is fond. He squeezes Hyunjin’s hand again, then lets go so he can close his menu. A waiter appears as if summoned out of thin air; Chan orders an elaborate-sounding grain bowl, and gestures palm-up to invite Hyunjin to order next. Hyunjin very nearly chickens out of doing what he said he’d do, but with Chan’s gentle eyes on him, it’s easier to be brave. He tells the waiter to surprise him. The waiter, bored, leaves.
Chan 的表情充满深情。他再次握住 Hyunjin 的手,然后放开手让自己合上菜单。一个服务员凭空出现;Chan 点了一个听起来很复杂的谷物碗,然后手掌朝上示意 Hyunjin 接着点菜。Hyunjin 几乎胆怯地没有做他说过的事情,但在 Chan 温柔的目光注视下,变得更加勇敢。他告诉服务员给他一个惊喜。服务员,无聊地离开了。

Alone, in public, sober and intentional and chaste, how are they meant to act with each other? Hyunjin catches Chan’s eye, and Chan must be feeling a little nervous, too, because he immediately breaks into a quiet laugh. “Am I bothering you on your night off?”

Ah, so he does want Hyunjin to be a little less varnished tonight. Like they’re meeting in the real world after only knowing each other in dreams. Wryly, Hyunjin shrugs. “I wasn’t doing anything,” he says, so he doesn’t have to lie, since Chan wants honesty—or what he thinks is honesty. Luckily for the two of them, this is both. “But you’re not bothering me. Never.” Chan still looks mildly self-deprecating, though, so Hyunjin braces himself, takes a strengthening breath, and continues, “Actually, it’s great—I needed a distraction.”

“Oh, yeah?” “哦,是吗?”

Hyunjin takes a sip of Chan’s water and tries to think of what to say. Off the clock. Unvarnished. But not a coward. This is a gamble; if he shares too much, it could turn Chan away from him. From this fantasy dreamworld they’ve built together. But—how long can they live in that world? Not for the first time, Hyunjin feels a penetrating dread, the ticking of a doomsday clock reverberating in his ears. It’s louder tonight than usual. He and Chan are happy now, exactly the way they are. But Hyunjin is in love with him, and Chan thinks he’s just pretending. Hyunjin wants to be with him forever, and Chan is going to slide him a couple hundred bucks under the table when they’re done with dinner. It’s not sustainable—unless Hyunjin starts getting honest with him, little by little. Sure, that’s frightening, but Hyunjin let Chan cum inside him last week; surely he can open up a fraction. So he says, “I’m just waiting on a bit of family news, and it’s hard to focus on anything else.”
Hyunjin 喝了一口 Chan 的水,试图想好该说些什么。下班后。坦率。但不要懦弱。这是一场赌注;如果他分享得太多,可能会让 Chan 远离他。远离他们一起建立的这个幻想梦境。但是——他们能在那个世界里生活多久?不是第一次,Hyunjin 感到一种深入灵魂的恐惧,末日时钟的滴答声在他耳边回响。今晚比平常更响。他和 Chan 现在很幸福,就是现在这样。但 Hyunjin 爱上了他,而 Chan 认为他只是在假装。Hyunjin 想永远和他在一起,而 Chan 打算在吃完晚餐后在桌底下塞给他几百块。这是不可持续的——除非 Hyunjin 开始逐渐对他坦诚。当然,这让人害怕,但上周 Hyunjin 让 Chan 在他里面射了一次精液;他肯定可以逐渐敞开心扉。于是他说:“我只是在等一点家庭消息,很难专注于其他事情。”

“Oh!” Chan says. He leans forward, suddenly alert, brows knitting with worry. “Is everyone all right?”
“哦!”Chan 说道。他向前倾身,突然警觉起来,眉头紧锁着担忧。“大家都没事吧?”

“Yes, yes,” Hyunjin says, so relieved Chan isn’t weirded out by the mention of Paris’s non-prostitution life that he has to blink rapidly, twice. “My…” His mouth twists. He perseveres. “My sister applied for a job recently. We’re just waiting to find out if she’s gotten it. Should be any day now.”

Not the truth, no. But he’s dying for not being able to lean on Chan, and all Chan wants is for someone to lean on him. Isn’t this better than nothing, for both of them? Isn’t it close enough? Across the table, Chan’s alight, emotions flickering across his face like a movie projected on a wall. Commiseration, curiosity, worry, joy. Nothing bad. Hyunjin’s trembling. Chan glances down at the table, works his jaw for a moment, settles on a slight smile. “Well, if your sister’s anything like you,” he says, “there’s no way she won’t get it.”

Hyunjin exhales in a rush. He’s smiling, too. “That’s very kind,” he says quietly. “Thank you.”

Chan visibly wants to ask about it, but the waiter returns and pours Hyunjin’s water glass full, too, and the intimacy of the moment is marginally lost. Softened, too, though, not quite so scary-sharp. They smile at each other again. Chan clears his throat and says, “Actually, for once in my life, I had an okay day at work. That’s why I decided to go out for dinner.”

“Oh, that’s wonderful,” says Hyunjin, who up until this instant had never considered that Chan might have wanted to see him for a good reason, rather than to scratch a particular dark itch, or, indeed, to stave off feelings of yearning for Felix. So Chan truly chose to see him tonight; he’d been wrong for reading into the restaurant’s proximity to Felix’s place. He tilts his head to the side, he smiles at Chan with so much warmth that he feels his own cheeks heat up. “Tell me.”

“What, about work?” Chan puffs out his cheeks in an exhale. “I mean, it wasn’t that amazing. Basically, I just—” And he launches into a halting, but expansive rundown of what he usually does at the office, the drudgery, the frustration, but how today, it had been someone’s birthday so there’d been a nice catered lunch, and Chan had managed to untangle a software snarl that had been bothering his entire department, so there had been a little variety in his otherwise completely monotonous professional existence. Hyunjin leans his chin in his hand and listens, watches. Chan’s an animated speaker; he doesn’t often talk this much, at least not all at once. He must be really happy. He must be really comfortable. He’s not apologizing for taking up space in this interaction. He’s not second-guessing whether or not Hyunjin wants to hear about this—he must believe that he does. Because Hyunjin really, really does. Only midway through another long, entertaining anecdote about Microsoft Excel does it seem to hit Chan that he’s been rambling, and that Hyunjin hasn’t blinked in three minutes so he won’t miss a single one of Chan’s microexpressions, tilts of his head, or hand gestures, and he goes a little red. Under the table, he nudges a foot against one of Hyunjin’s. “…Anyway, once I figured out how to do the macros, I started saving myself a lot of time. Um. Now you tell me.”
“关于工作?”Chan 吹了口气,嘟起了脸颊。“我是说,并不是那么惊人。基本上,我只是——”然后他开始介绍他通常在办公室做的事情,枯燥乏味,沮丧,但今天,有人过生日,所以有一个不错的午餐,而且 Chan 成功地解决了一直困扰整个部门的软件混乱,所以在他完全单调的职业生涯中有了一点变化。Hyunjin 托着下巴,倾听着,看着。Chan 是一个生动的演讲者;他并不经常这么多话,至少不是一次说这么多。他一定很开心。他一定很舒适。他没有为占据这段互动空间而道歉。他没有在犹豫是否 Hyunjin 想听这些——他一定相信他想听。因为 Hyunjin 真的,真的想听。 只是在讲述另一个关于 Microsoft Excel 的长篇有趣轶事的中途,Chan 才意识到自己一直在唠叨,Hyunjin 已经三分钟没眨眼,为了不错过 Chan 的微表情、头部倾斜或手势中的任何一个,他有点脸红。在桌子下,他用脚轻轻碰了一下 Hyunjin 的一只脚。“……不管怎样,一旦我弄明白了如何使用宏,我就开始节省了很多时间。嗯。现在轮到你告诉我了。”

“Tell you what?” “告诉你什么?”

“About your day. Or your sister. Whatever you want.”

Hyunjin blinks at him, sitting up straighter and letting his hand lower to the table. “What about my sister?”
Hyunjin 瞪大眼睛看着他,坐直了身子,让手放到桌子上。“关于我姐姐怎么了?”

“I’ve just never heard you mention your family before,” Chan says with a slight shrug. “Not that—I mean, obviously it hasn’t come up. And, y’know, I have a sister, too.”
“我从来没听你提起过你的家人,”Chan 轻轻耸了耸肩。“不是说——我是说,显然还没提到。而且,你知道,我也有一个姐姐。”

“Yes, well, my sister’s not like your sister,” Hyunjin says. He stifles a smile. This is very strange. He doesn’t know if Hyuna would approve of this conversation happening in the first place, let alone her becoming the narrative focus. But Chan’s asking; who is he to deny him answers? Besides, he’s never really told Felix any details about Hyuna, so there’s no way Felix has ever casually mentioned anything like this to Chan, if they happened to talk about him. “She’s quite a bit older than me, so we weren’t really raised together.”
“是的,嗯,我妹妹和你的妹妹不太一样,”贤真说。他强忍着笑容。这很奇怪。他不确定贤娜是否会赞成这样的对话发生,更不用说她成为谈话的焦点了。但是灿在问;他有什么理由拒绝回答呢?再说,他从来没有向 Felix 透露过有关贤娜的任何细节,所以 Felix 绝对不可能随口向灿提起过类似的事情,如果他们谈到了他的话。“她比我大很多,所以我们并没有一起长大。”

Chan’s demeanor is the same as when Hyunjin had mentioned his family in the first place: he’s so upright, so intent. “Huh, wow. How much older?”

“Twelve years,” Hyunjin says. “So, you know, when she went off to college, I was still really little. We didn’t actually get close until—not that long ago, actually, in the grand scheme of things.”

“But you’re close?” Chan asks softly.
“但你离得很近?”Chan 轻声问道。

‘Terrible’ is the wrong word. Why exactly did you do this? God, he shouldn’t have said anything—now he’s uncomfortable, that doom-guilt-nightmare feeling settling heavy in his stomach, filling him, and their entrees haven’t even arrived yet. “We are,” Hyunjin replies, just as softly.

Chan’s smiling at him. Crinkle-eyed. He looks so sweet. He is so sweet. “You know, I’d never considered it before, but now I know you’re a younger sibling, it totally makes sense.”
Chan 微笑着看着他。眯着眼睛。他看起来很甜。他确实很甜。“你知道,以前我从未考虑过,但现在我知道你是个年幼的兄弟,这完全说得通。”

Hyunjin, surprised, grins self-consciously. That’s bled through even into his Paris persona? He doesn’t know if that’s good or bad. “I get that a lot.”

“Thanks for telling me about her,” Chan says, reaching across the table, as if he’s going to touch Hyunjin’s hand, but then the waiter—once again, as if on malicious cue—glides up to them with a tray bearing their food, and Chan quickly withdraws.
“谢谢你告诉我关于她的事情,”Chan 说着,伸手过桌子,仿佛要碰触 Hyunjin 的手,但这时服务员——再次,仿佛按恶意的暗示——滑到他们身边,端着一盘他们的食物,Chan 快速地收回了手。

Chan’s grain bowl looks delicious. Hyunjin’s “surprise” is a rather uninspiring roasted whitefish of some sort. When the waiter has left, Chan takes one look at the expression on Hyunjin’s face, laughs, and reaches to swap their plates. “Chan,” Hyunjin says, blushing, somehow feeling more spoiled in this one tiny instance than he ever has with Chan before, including all the times Chan has absolutely doted on him, waiting on him hand and foot. “It’s okay, you really don’t have to.”
Chan 的谷物碗看起来很美味。Hyunjin 的“惊喜”是一种相当普通的烤白鱼。服务员离开后,Chan 看了一眼 Hyunjin 脸上的表情,笑了起来,伸手交换了他们的盘子。“Chan,”Hyunjin 脸红地说道,在这一个微小的瞬间,他感觉比以往任何时候都更被宠爱,甚至比 Chan 曾经对他百依百顺、无微不至地照顾他的时候还要被宠爱。“没关系,你真的不必这样。”

“Nah, c’mon, I love grouper.”

I love you. “Well—if you’re sure,” Hyunjin says, but he’s already scooping up some of Chan’s generously given grains for a bite, and Chan’s smiling at him with that I’m-happy-you’re-happy smile, their ankles companionably pressed together under the table, and as they eat, as they chat about the conceptual failures of modern fine dining but the impossibility to cook for oneself routinely, annoying movie tropes, and how they both grew up loving “footie,” as Chan calls soccer—they even had the same favorite club!—Hyunjin forgets about the audition, forgets about Felix, forgets about Paris, forgets about the disaster that is his life outside of this. It’s so easy to talk to him. It feels like they’re friends. It feels like a date.

But it has to end. Chan has work tomorrow morning; so does Hyunjin. Chan pays, Hyunjin stands, Hyunjin looks unhappily at their table and wishes they could sit there long into the night. They head for the exit; Hyunjin’s trying not to drag his feet. Ostensibly, this isn’t about him—although Chan has cheered him up so well. But will the effect linger, or will he go home to another sleepless night? On the sidewalk, Chan gently loops an arm around Hyunjin’s waist, so easily it’s like he didn’t even have to think about it, and Hyunjin leans into him, and sighs.
但是它必须结束。Chan 明天早上要上班;Hyunjin 也是。Chan 付钱,Hyunjin 站起来,Hyunjin 不高兴地看着他们的桌子,希望他们能坐在那里直到深夜。他们朝出口走去;Hyunjin 努力不拖着脚步。表面上,这不是关于他的 — 虽然 Chan 那么好地让他开心起来。但效果会持续吗,还是他会回家经历另一个失眠的夜晚?在人行道上,Chan 轻轻地环绕着 Hyunjin 的腰,如此轻松,就好像他根本没有想过一样,Hyunjin 靠在他身上,叹了口气。

“Thanks again,” Chan murmurs. “Is it too corny to say I had fun?”
“再次感谢,”Chan 低声说道。“说我玩得开心是不是太俗气了?”

“Not if you had fun,” Hyunjin says and leans down to nudge their noses together. “I had fun, too.”
“如果你玩得开心,那就不算俗气,”Hyunjin 说着,俯身凑近,碰了碰他们的鼻子。“我也玩得开心。”

Chan’s smiling, almost leaning up for a kiss, but then he freezes and pulls away. “Oh, shit, Paris, I don’t have any cash on me. I’m so sorry, I didn’t even think, I—”
Chan 微笑着,几乎要凑上去亲吻,但突然停住,拉开距离。“哦,该死,帕里斯,我身上没带现金。真抱歉,我甚至没想到,我——”

Hyunjin’s eyes widen. He tries to silence Chan by taking him by the upper arm and holding tight. “Chan, Chan, it’s okay,” he soothes. Chan quiets, but he still looks startled, confused, worried. “You can just…” …forget it. Just take it for free. This really was fun for me, too. I really needed it. You really got to spend time with me tonight. It’s free. It’s yours. But he can’t. “…add it to the tab,” he hears himself continue. He feels his cheeks pull into a light smile. “I’m still seeing you on Friday, right? You can give it to me then.”
Hyunjin 的眼睛睁大。他试图通过抓住陈的上臂并紧紧抓住来让陈安静下来。“陈,陈,没事的,”他安抚道。陈安静了下来,但他看起来仍然吃惊、困惑、担忧。“你可以只是……忘了吧。就当作是免费的。这对我来说真的很有趣,我真的需要这个。你今晚真的花了时间和我在一起。这是免费的。是你的。但他不能。“……加到账单上吧,”他听到自己继续说道。他感觉自己的脸颊微微拉出一个微笑。“星期五我还能见到你,对吧?那时你可以给我。”

“That’s right,” Chan says, still mildly troubled, but relaxing. “Are you sure?”
“没错,”Chan 说,仍然有些不安,但放松下来。“你确定吗?”

Hyunjin’s smile is even lighter. He kisses Chan on the cheek as his thumb moves over his phone screen to call his Uber home. “Yes. And that’s 80 push-ups you owe me now, honey.”
Hyunjin 的微笑更加灿烂。他在 Chan 的脸颊上亲了一口,同时用拇指在手机屏幕上滑动,叫了辆 Uber 回家。“是的。现在你欠我 80 个俯卧撑,亲爱的。”




The cast list goes up. Felix is sub-principal, featured in two different numbers in the Bourne, and an understudy for Siegfried in the traditional production; Hyunjin is “ensemble alternate” in both, meaning in theory, it’s possible he’ll do no more than one performance a week. He expected it. It doesn’t sting. Felix spends all day orbiting him with a pack of tissues tucked into his waistband, but Hyunjin doesn’t shed a single tear.
演员名单公布了。Felix 是副首席,在《伯恩》的两个不同场次中有特色,也是传统剧目《西格弗里德》的替补演员;Hyunjin 在两个剧目中都是“集体替补”,理论上可能每周只演一场。他早有预料。这并没有刺痛他。整天都有 Felix 围着他转,腰间塞着一包纸巾,但 Hyunjin 却没有流一滴眼泪。




Friday night at Chan’s place. 40 push-ups before they fuck, 40 after—they struck a deal, since Chan pleaded for clemency and Hyunjin was feeling vulnerable and therefore charitable and Chan was wearing blue, which looked so good on him. Hyunjin’s never been a smoker, but sometimes Chan fucks him so good that his mouth feels empty when they’re done, and the air would look better with clouds curling through it. “Did she,” Chan pants, “get it?”
周五晚上在 Chan 的地方。在他们做爱之前做 40 个俯卧撑,之后再做 40 个——他们达成了协议,因为 Chan 请求宽恕,Hyunjin 感到脆弱,因此慷慨,而 Chan 穿着蓝色,看起来很好看。Hyunjin 从未抽烟,但有时候 Chan 操他得太好了,以至于当他们结束时他的嘴感觉空空如也,空气看起来会因为云朵在其中卷曲而更美丽。“她,”Chan 喘着气说,“明白了吗?”

“Who?” “谁?”

“Your sister.” “你妹妹。”

“Get what?” “拿什么?”

“That job she applied for.”

“Huh?” Then Hyunjin sits up. He’d completely forgotten about that strange little lie he’d told to try and make himself feel better. Would it break Chan’s spirit to know the truth, refracted though it is through the lens of this falsehood? He pictures Chan’s smile, his radiant happiness to hear about the success of a person he’s never met, just because she’s part of Hyunjin’s family. He pictures that that smile is actually for him—how proud Chan would have been, in another life, to hear that Hyunjin got the part. The lead. That life isn’t this one. Hyunjin hates lying. “Oh. No. No, she didn’t. But they’ve got her number, so they’ll call her if… anything.”

“Oh,” Chan says. He holds a plank long enough to catch his breath, looking up at Hyunjin with big, baleful eyes. “I’m sorry. I hope she knows it doesn’t define her.”
“哦,”Chan 说道。他拿着一块足够长的木板喘口气,抬头看着 Hyunjin,眼睛大大的,充满悲伤。“对不起。希望她知道这并不定义她。”

“Yes, of course she knows,” Hyunjin laughs, fond. But he doesn’t, does he? And Chan doesn’t know the truth, anyway. It does define Hyunjin—that he didn’t get the part. Just like it defines Felix that he sort of did. His smile is bittersweet as he settles back against the pillows. “It’s okay, Chan. Something else will come along.”

Chan resumes his push-ups. “I like that attitude. I wish I could be as optimistic as you.”

If you only knew. “Well, c’mere, let me try rubbing off on you again.”

Chan laughs so hard he has to take a push-up break, and Hyunjin’s laughing, too, wishing so fervently that he could believe himself, just once.




Rehearsals, defying all imagination, get even more brutal now that they actually have something concrete to rehearse toward. But Hyunjin’s seeing Chan twice a week now; dinner has become a routine. Not always at high-brow places—they occasionally meet at simple holes in the wall, or eat at walk-up windows. Hyunjin’s seeing the city. He’s seeing Chan. And on Friday nights, at Chan’s place, he gets him all to himself and vice versa. The fruit bowl looks great in Chan’s kitchen. He’s also, with Hyunjin’s input, gotten a hallway runner, new curtains in the living room, a couple of film posters and a framed Paris Saint Germain jersey, a fake plant on his WFH desk (“I’d kill a real one in a heartbeat—can’t even take care of myself properly”), a cord organizer for his cables, a shoe shelf for his shoes (not that he has enough to necessitate one; he’d just wanted one). Small changes, nothing structural or fundamental, but it’s starting to look like him. More character, more heart. Like a home. Hyunjin leaves little things behind, from time to time. A hairband. One earring. An undershirt. Nothing he’d miss; nothing Chan would even notice. But something tying him to Chan’s place, either as a pretext for Chan to invite him over to pick up—or in the same way an animal can smell its burrow from miles and miles away. It’s territorial. It’s a seed sprouting roots. Even when this goes up in flames—it’s no longer an if, or it never was—Chan will be finding him in every corner, in silvery hairs on his pillowcases, in pockets of perfume-scented air.
排练,挑战所有想象,变得更加残酷,因为他们现在确实有具体的排练目标。但是现在 Hyunjin 每周见 Chan 两次;晚餐已经成为一种惯例。并不总是在高档地方——他们偶尔在简单的角落见面,或者在快餐窗口吃饭。Hyunjin 看到了这座城市。他看到了 Chan。而在周五晚上,在 Chan 的家里,他可以独占他,反之亦然。水果碗在 Chan 的厨房里看起来很棒。他还在 Hyunjin 的建议下,买了一条走廊地毯,客厅里的新窗帘,几张电影海报和一件巴黎圣日耳曼队的球衣,他的 WFH 办公桌上放了一盆假植物(“我会秒杀一颗真的——甚至不能好好照顾自己”),一个电线整理架,一个鞋架(尽管他没有足够多的鞋需要一个;他只是想要一个)。小改变,没有结构性或根本性的变化,但开始看起来像他了。更有个性,更有心。像一个家。Hyunjin 偶尔留下一些小东西。一个发带。一个耳环。一件汗衫。他不会错过的东西;Chan 甚至都不会注意到。 但有些东西将他与陈的地方联系在一起,要么作为陈邀请他过去取东西的借口,要么就像动物可以从数英里之外闻到自己的洞穴一样。这是领地意识。这是一颗发芽生根的种子。即使这一切化为灰烬——这不再是一个如果,或者从来就不是——陈将在每一个角落找到他,在枕头套上的银色头发中,在香水气味的口袋里。

On Saturdays, Hyunjin should be curling up in pain for half the day, then spending the other half at the studio again, perfecting his form, but Chan’s like an ice pack, an airbag, a kiss where it hurts, to make it better. The twice-a-week regimen is the only thing keeping Hyunjin from snapping into a black hole of despair. He wonders if it’s the same for Chan. Felix is doing great, too. He’s the golden boy. Hyunjin’s happy for him. If Felix still had Chan, Hyunjin wouldn’t be so happy for him at all. They’re winning two different races. If Hyunjin had to choose between career and love, he wouldn’t hesitate for an instant. Hyuna’s always been the ambitious one. Hyunjin, a lifetime lived protected by her shadow, has never had expectations to meet; he’s the spare. In a way, Svetlana Dmitrievna is the disciplinarian his own mother never was. He’s already disappointed her. It’s almost freeing—to have no lower to go. It releases him to go higher. Nourished, replenished by Chan’s attention, he’s stronger, faster, more precise. It’s a weekly fucking extra workout, letting Chan twist him like a pretzel. She’ll never say she’s impressed, but at least she’s yelling at him less. Maybe he’ll get to perform more than once a week.
在星期六,Hyunjin 应该会疼痛地蜷缩一半的时间,然后又花另一半时间在工作室里,完善他的动作,但是 Chan 就像是一个冰袋,一个气囊,一个在疼痛处亲吻,让一切变得更好。每周两次的训练计划是唯一能让 Hyunjin 不陷入绝望黑洞的事情。他想知道对于 Chan 来说是否也是一样。Felix 也做得很好。他是金童。Hyunjin 为他感到高兴。如果 Felix 仍然拥有 Chan,Hyunjin 对他的高兴就不会那么真诚。他们在赢取两场不同的比赛。如果 Hyunjin 必须在事业和爱情之间选择,他不会犹豫一刻。Hyuna 一直是雄心勃勃的那一个。Hyunjin 一生都在她的阴影下受保护,从未有过需要达到的期望;他是备用的。在某种程度上,Svetlana Dmitrievna 是他自己母亲从未成为的严厉者。他已经让她失望了。这几乎是一种解脱——没有更低的地方可去。这让他有机会向更高处迈进。在 Chan 的关注下得到滋养、补充,他变得更强壮、更快速、更精准。这几乎是每周额外的训练,让 Chan 把他扭成一个椒盐卷饼。她永远不会说她对他印象深刻,但至少她对他的责骂更少了。 也许他会每周表演不止一次。

Something new has been growing in his chest, a seed he didn’t know had been dropped in that particular flowerbed. It unfurls new leaves and even petals both in practice and when he’s intertwined with Chan. He’s only able to put a name to it after it’s been sprouting for a couple of weeks: it’s pride. He’s proud of himself. One night, at Chan’s place, they stay up so late talking that they just fall asleep, they don’t even fuck. Hyunjin wakes up in Chan’s bed because Chan carried him there. Instead of envying Felix, Hyunjin now envies his own sleeping body—kept so safe, so protected, so cherished in Chan’s strong arms. He sucks Chan’s dick viciously the following morning and sends him off to pick up breakfast with wobbly knees. It won’t last, he tells himself every day. It can’t last. Every day enjoyed is a day closer to the end. But it doesn’t matter. Even when this goes up in flames, he’ll remember, always, how happy he was, once upon a time.
他胸中生长出了一种新的东西,一颗他不知道是怎么掉进那个花坛里的种子。它在实践中展开新的叶子,甚至花瓣,在与灿交织在一起的时候也是如此。几周后,他才能给它一个名字:骄傲。他为自己感到骄傲。一天晚上,在灿的家里,他们聊得太晚了,结果就睡着了,甚至没有做爱。Hyunjin 醒来时发现自己在灿的床上,是灿把他抱过去的。现在,Hyunjin 不再羡慕 Felix,而是羡慕自己沉睡的身体——在灿坚实的怀抱中如此安全、如此受保护、如此珍惜。第二天早上,他狠狠地吸着灿的命根子,然后颤抖着双腿送他去买早餐。他告诉自己这不会持续下去。它不可能持续。每一天的享受都是离结束更近一步。但这并不重要。即使这一切化为灰烬,他也会永远记得,曾经有多么幸福。




Saturday, early. Sitting up in bed after a nice deep morning fuck. It’s all been veering into making love for weeks, but sometimes, Chan has some pent-up energy to take out on Hyunjin, too. This morning was a little bit of both, and Hyunjin sips his orange juice and feels the imprints of Chan’s fingers on his neck. Chan’s quiet—not reading the nonfiction book on shipwrecks he’s been picking his way through lately, not humming to himself, just staring into the middle distance. Lost in thought. Hyunjin wants to find him, so he gently bumps Chan’s shoulder with his own and says, “How are you?”

Chan clears his throat, blinks, bumps Hyunjin back, and gives him a small, troubled smile. “Just realized. It would have been our six-month anniversary today.”

Jesus Christ. Really? Hyunjin does the math. Half a year—half a year since he got more invested in Chan’s happiness than his own. Softly, focusing on that rather than the immediate existential ache that eats at his edges whenever he notices a Felix-shaped ghost haunting the room, he repeats, “How are you?”

Chan kisses him. “I’m good,” he says. Quiet conviction. It’s not an empty knee-jerk answer. He means it. He’s good.

Hyunjin kisses him back. He’s good, too.
Hyunjin 回吻了他。他也很擅长。

Later, when they’re both dressed and Hyunjin is texting his physical therapist that he’s on his way, Chan touches Hyunjin’s elbow to get his attention. “Hey, could we do dinner on Monday this week?”
后来,当他们都穿好衣服,Hyunjin 正在给他的物理治疗师发短信说他在路上时,Chan 碰了碰 Hyunjin 的手肘以引起他的注意。“嘿,这周一我们能一起吃晚饭吗?”

“Monday?” Hyunjin is about to open up his calendar app to check, but it’s full of performances, even the ones he’s not in, just so he can keep track. Better not let Chan see that, just in case. He blinks at Chan, thinking. “Maybe. I’ll let you know right away, okay?”
“星期一?” 玄辰正要打开日历应用程序查看,但里面满是演出安排,即使是他不参加的那些,只是为了能够跟踪。最好不要让灿看到,以防万一。他眨了眨眼睛,想着。 “也许。我会立刻告诉你,好吗?”

“Yeah, okay. No sweat if not, we can totally do a different day next week. It’s just on Tuesday”—Chan grins—“I’m going to the ballet.”
“好的,没问题。如果不行的话,我们完全可以下周另选一天。就是在周二”—Chan 咧嘴笑着说—“我要去看芭蕾舞。”




At the will call. Hyunjin’s hands shaking. “Sorry, I just,” he says, knowing he’s convincing absolutely no one but hoping his beauty will make him more inherently believable, “I just want to make sure I got tickets for all my performance dates, could you—can you just please check what shows I got tickets for? They’d be under, under—Felix Lee. Or, wait, no, try Chan Bang.”
在自助取票处。Hyunjin 的手在颤抖。“抱歉,我只是,”他说,知道自己根本说服不了任何人,但希望自己的美丽会让他更加可信,“我只是想确认我买了所有演出日期的票,你能——你能帮我看看我买了哪些演出的票吗?应该是在,应该是在—Felix Lee。或者,等等,不对,试试 Chan Bang。”

A very heavy sigh from the bespectacled woman in the ticket booth. She starts to flip through the tabbed box in front of her, squinting at the names on the envelopes. “Lee… Felix, you said?”
售票亭里戴眼镜的女士发出了一声沉重的叹息。她开始翻阅面前的标签盒,皱着眉头看着信封上的名字。“李… 菲利克斯,你说的是吗?”

“Yes. Or Chan Bang.” “是的。或者是 Chan Bang。”

“I have a Chris Bang, is that it?”
“我有一个 Chris Bang,是这个吗?”

“Yes,” Hyunjin says, hands shaking even harder. “Yes, that’s right. What shows did I…?”
“是的,” Hyunjin 说,手颤抖得更厉害了。“是的,没错。我演过哪些节目呢…?”

An even heavier sigh. She pulls out the envelope. Hyunjin’s staring at it like a starving man at a rare steak. The envelope’s thick; Felix must have offered him his full range of performances, and Chan must have said yes to everything. The woman starts to read off the dates, and Hyunjin blurts waitwaitwait and pulls out his phone and types with clumsy thumbs. The opening night on Tuesday. Then both of Felix’s Wednesday shows. Every Sunday matinee. A week skipped, and then one more set of Wednesdays and Sundays—Jesus, by the time the shows are closing (and Chan is going to be there for the final performances of both), he’ll be able to fill in for a corps dancer easily. Distantly, through his blind panic, Hyunjin can’t help but notice that there are no Friday shows in Chan’s thick folder of comp tickets. It’s probably not on purpose, but at this point, this close to the end, he’ll take what he can get.
一个更沉重的叹息。她拿出信封。Hyunjin 盯着它,就像一个饥饿的人盯着一块稀有的牛排。这封信封很厚;Felix 一定给了他所有的表演时间,而 Chan 一定对所有事情都说了是。女人开始念日期,Hyunjin 突然说等等等,然后掏出手机,用笨拙的大拇指输入。周二的首演。然后是 Felix 的周三两场演出。每个星期天的下午场。跳过一周,然后再来一组周三和周日——天啊,等到演出结束时(而 Chan 将在两场最后演出时在场),他将能轻松替补一个舞者。在他的盲目恐慌中,Hyunjin 远远地注意到 Chan 的厚厚的免费票夹里没有星期五的演出。这可能不是故意的,但在这一点上,就接近结束,他会接受任何可以得到的。

“You want me to check under Felix Lee, too?”
“你要我也查一下 Felix Lee 的吗?”

“No, that’s all right, thank you,” Hyunjin says, “thank you, thank you so much.”
“不,没关系,谢谢你,非常感谢。”Hyunjin 说。

He throws up in the single-user bathroom, where there’s no public mirror for anyone to write WHORE on. Wiping his mouth, he checks his own performance dates, paltry compared to Felix’s wealth. There’s an overlapping Wednesday. There’s an overlapping Sunday matinee. A break, an unexpected boon, that one week Chan doesn’t have tickets for some reason; Hyunjin’s supposed to do the Sunday late-night show. Other than that, the rest of Hyunjin’s scattered dates are Thursdays. But then there’s another Wednesday, and then, worst of all, the finale—the closer. Hyunjin’s not confirmed for it yet, but what if he is? Oh, God, what if he is?
他在单人卫生间里呕吐,那里没有公共镜子供任何人写“妓女”。擦拭嘴巴后,他查看自己的演出日期,与 Felix 的财富相比微不足道。有一个重叠的星期三。有一个重叠的周日下午演出。一个休息,一个意外的恩惠,那一周 Chan 出于某种原因没有买票;Hyunjin 应该参加周日深夜的演出。除此之外,Hyunjin 零零散散的其他日期都是星期四。但接着又是一个星期三,然后,最糟糕的是,结局——收官之作。Hyunjin 还没有确认参加,但如果他参加了呢?哦,天啊,如果他参加了呢?

He just thought—he doesn’t know why, now—that it would last a little longer. That the knives he was juggling would stay in the air a second longer, before flying down to cut him all to pieces. That one Wednesday, that one Sunday. The finale. It doesn’t matter that in the end, the black swan reigns triumphant over the wreck of the poor white swan. That would only matter if Hyunjin were either. As it is, he’s less than nothing.




“Come in,” says Svetlana Dmitrievna’s voice, sickeningly potent even through the door of her office.

Hyunjin turns the knob, and walks in noiselessly. She only glances up briefly; he may as well be set dressing. “Hello,” he says, soft and polite. “I’m sorry to disturb you. I just wanted to discuss my performance dates.”
玄辰转动把手,无声无息地走了进去。她只是瞥了一眼;他就像是布景一样。 “你好,”他轻声而有礼貌地说。“很抱歉打扰您。我只是想讨论一下我的演出日期。”

That makes her look up from her notes fully, and her expression is pinched already. “Hvan,” she says, “we have discuss this. The reason you are not in more shows—”

“No, no, of course, I understand,” Hyunjin says quickly, his smile large and nervous. “That’s not what I wanted to ask you about. I’m so, so grateful I’ll get to perform at all this season. All I wanted to ask was—whether there’s any flexibility in… which dates, exactly, I’m currently scheduled for.”
“不,不,当然,我明白了,”Hyunjin 迅速说道,他的微笑又大又紧张。“这不是我想问你的。我非常感激我这个赛季能够表演。我想问的是——关于目前安排的日期是否有任何灵活性。”

Svetlana Dmitrievna takes a very long time to react to this. Her wizened hands, which were once as smooth and elegant as Hyunjin’s, are folded on top of her notepad. “What is the problem with the dates?”

She’s like a rabid dog or, more accurately, a bear; Hyunjin knows she can smell his fear. The worse it gets, the worse it’ll get. He just has to get through this. The only thing that’s at stake is his future. “Well, I’d like to switch from Wednesday the 15th to that Thursday, the 16th. And then the next week, on Sunday the 26th, I’d prefer to do the late show instead of the matinee. As for next month, on the 6th—”
她就像一只狂犬,更准确地说,是一只熊;贤真知道她能闻到他的恐惧。情况越糟糕,情况就会变得越糟。他只需要度过这一关。唯一受到影响的是他的未来。“嗯,我想把 15 号星期三换成那个星期四,16 号。然后下周,26 号星期日,我想做晚场而不是下午场。至于下个月,6 号——”

“Hvan,” Svetlana Dmitrievna says, silencing him with a raised hand. He grasps the strap of his bag so tightly his knuckles burn. “What is this? I have never heard anything like this in my life.”

“I’m sorry,” Hyunjin says, and he can smell his own fear, now, bitter and pathetic. Saying prefer had been a horrible mistake; he’s going about all of this all wrong, but he’s started now, he can’t stop. “I know it’s an unusual request, but I’ve already talked to Nils and Gabriel about whether they’d be able to swap with me, and they both said yes, so—”
“对不起,”Hyunjin 说,他现在能闻到自己的恐惧,苦涩而可悲。说出 prefer 已经是一个可怕的错误;他现在做错了一切,但他已经开始了,无法停下。“我知道这是一个不寻常的请求,但我已经和 Nils 以及 Gabriel 谈过他们是否能和我交换,他们都答应了,所以——”

“No, I am sorry that the dates aren’t convenient for you,” Svetlana Dmitrievna says, with a venom that’s surprising even coming from her. “Yes, I am very, very sorry. Would you like to tell me what dates you prefer? Would you like to be on the poster? Should we name the theater after you?”

“No—I’m sorry—” “不,对不起——”

“If it is inconvenient, then why perform at all? No, if it is inconvenient, then no, no performance. No problem.” Svetlana Dmitrievna, her facial expression beyond disgusted, leans back in her chair, scoffs, and picks her pen back up. Dismissed.

Hyunjin’s lips are numb. “That isn’t what I meant,” he says. “Please. I want to perform. I want it more than anything. I know, I know you hate me, but—”

“I don’t hate you,” Svetlana Dmitrievna says suddenly, venom gone and replaced by shrewd clarity. “No. I don’t hate you. I have never hate you.”

Hyunjin hesitates. He doesn’t know what he wants to do more: cry, or set himself on fire. “You… don’t?”
Hyunjin 犹豫了。他不知道自己更想做什么:哭,还是自焚。“你…不想?”

Svetlana Dmitrievna slowly shakes her head. “Never. I want better of you. I see that you could be better. But for some reason, I do not know what, you don’t get better.”

Now she’s just rubbing it in. Horrifyingly, Hyunjin’s lower lip wobbles, and he savagely bites the inside of his cheek to redirect his pain. “I’m sorry,” he says. Dimly, at the back of his mind, he feels Chan’s presence—how many would that be, now? Twenty push-ups, more? But thinking about Chan makes him think about Chan and why he’s here begging in this office in the first place. Soon, it won’t be a matter of choice between self-immolation and tears. “I really try.”

“I know, Hvan. I see you try.” Svetlana Dmitrievna considers her pen. Her notepad. Soft music is playing from her ancient Dell computer, and the windows’ light is reflecting off a framed photograph on her desk of a young and beautiful woman in a perfect third arabesque. She looks so familiar; Hyunjin can’t place her. “If they said they could switch with you, then yes.”

“Yes?” Hyunjin can’t breathe, and his eyes are watering so hard that he can’t even control them enough to blink.

“Yes. It doesn’t really matter who does what day in ensemble roles, if the position is the same.”

“It is,” Hyunjin says. His heart is like a hummingbird, trapped, beating so frantically against the bars of its cage. “Thank you. Thank you.”

She shakes her head again. “Thank me by being better,” she replies.

Hyunjin nods. He bows. He backs out of the room as if leaving an audience with the queen. He can’t believe that worked—he can’t believe she doesn’t hate him. Really, he can’t believe it. But he’ll make it worth her while. And it’s okay that Chan won’t get to see him dance. Hyunjin’s not good enough for that, anyway.
Hyunjin 点了点头。他鞠了个躬。他像离开见女王一样退出了房间。他简直不敢相信这奏效了——他简直不敢相信她不讨厌他。真的,他简直不敢相信。但他会让她觉得值得。而且陈不会看到他跳舞也没关系。反正 Hyunjin 不够好。




But when he checks the calendar and counts, the number of his performances doesn’t add up to seven the way it had before. He checks again and again. There’s the Thursday he requested; there’s the evening show on the following Sunday. Another changed Wednesday-to-Thursday. But one of the original Thursdays is gone, with no replacement, and he’s still “pending” for the finale.

She gives him what he wants, but punishes him for asking. Hyunjin understands. He deserves it. He’s grateful anyway. It’ll be worth it, to stave off his swan song a moment longer.
她给了他他想要的,但却因为他的要求而惩罚他。Hyunjin 明白。他应该受到惩罚。无论如何,他很感激。为了延缓他的告别曲,这一切都是值得的。




The shows open. Hyunjin won’t be dancing for another week. He stands in the wings and watches Felix flitting like a feather. He knows Chan is there, out in the darkness beyond the stage lights. Dinner last night was lovely; it’s always lovely. Chan didn’t say anything about the ballet. Has he noticed that Hyunjin shrinks by an inch whenever Felix’s name comes up? It’s bad if he has. It’s worse if he hasn’t. Hyunjin looks for Chan’s face in the blurry crowd and doesn’t find it, and he goes home before the final act. He knows how this story ends, anyway.
演出开始了。Hyunjin 还要再过一周才能跳舞。他站在幕后,看着 Felix 像羽毛一样飘动。他知道 Chan 在那里,在舞台灯光之外的黑暗中。昨晚的晚餐很美好;它总是美好的。Chan 没提及芭蕾舞的事。他有没有注意到每当 Felix 的名字被提起时,Hyunjin 都会缩短一英寸?如果他注意到了,那就糟糕了。如果他没有,那就更糟糕。Hyunjin 在模糊的人群中寻找 Chan 的脸,却没有找到,他在最后一幕之前就回家了。无论如何,他知道这个故事会怎样结束。




At his own opening night, he’s perfect, but it’s like a tree falling in deserted woods. His parents are coming eventually, and Hyuna a little later. He even tried to tell them not to bother coming all the way out for just a bit part like his; he’s sorry they didn’t listen to him. He’s running on automatic the entire time. He doesn’t miss a step, and his body sings with it. He dances like Chan’s watching, although of course he isn’t. When it’s over and he’s taken a bow with eyes unfocused so he doesn’t hope for something that he shouldn’t be hoping for in the first place, he runs offstage straight into Svetlana Dmitrievna. She doesn’t say anything. She barely even looks at him. All she does is nod, and his heart could burst.
在他自己的首演之夜,他表现完美,但就像一棵树倒在了荒凉的树林里。他的父母最终会来,Hyuna 稍后也会来。他甚至试图告诉他们不用特意过来看他这样一个小角色;他很抱歉他们没有听他的话。他整个时间都在自动模式下运转。他没有失误,他的身体充满了活力。他跳舞的时候仿佛 Chan 在看着他,尽管当然他并没有。当一切结束,他带着眼睛没有焦点地鞠了一躬,不让自己对本不该抱有希望的事情抱有希望,他径直跑下舞台撞上了斯维特兰娜·德米特里耶芙娜。她什么也没说。她几乎没有看他一眼。她只是点了点头,他的心都要炸裂了。




It’s winding down. Hyunjin wasn’t built to survive this much stress. He’s basically in fight-or-flight from the second he wakes up to the undefined instant sleep overtakes him, and he’s even running in his dreams. He jumps at sudden noises; he ducks his head when walking out of the theater, dark hat pulled low, just in case. He’s dehydrated and stretched too thin. He hasn’t really talked to Felix properly in days—not on purpose, just because they’re both in rehearsal all day long and it’s the kind of rehearsal that leaves everyone absolutely shattered. Physical therapy, pilates, rehearsal, show, maybe a little food in between, Chan in there somewhere, interactions Hyunjin swims through half-conscious, but at least those feel good. He can’t live like this; he never could. This bed he’s made for himself hurts to lie in. Forget having his cake and eating it, too—he’s choking on it. His parents come to a show. At the stage door, his mother puts her hand on his clammy forehead and says, “Are you feeling okay?” and Hyunjin doesn’t know what to tell her.
它正在尾声。贤振没有被设计来承受这么大的压力。他基本上从醒来的那一刻开始就处于战斗或逃跑状态,直到不确定的瞬间被睡意压倒,甚至在梦中奔跑。他会因突然的声音而跳起来;走出剧院时低头走路,黑色帽子拉得很低,以防万一。他脱水且筋疲力尽。他已经好几天没有好好和 Felix 交谈了——不是故意的,只是因为他们整天都在排练,而且是那种让每个人都筋疲力尽的排练。物理治疗,普拉提,排练,演出,也许中间吃点东西,Chan 也在其中,贤振游走在半清醒状态下的互动中,但至少那些感觉很好。他无法像这样生活;他从来都做不到。他为自己铺的床让他躺着很痛苦。别提既要拥有蛋糕又要吃掉它了——他都快被呛着了。他的父母来看演出。在舞台门口,他母亲把手放在他发热的额头上,问道:“你感觉怎么样?”贤振不知道该告诉她什么。




“I’m going out of town tomorrow,” Chan says, glum.
“明天我要出城了,” 陈闷闷不乐地说。

Ah, this must be why he’s missing two of Felix’s shows. Hyunjin has been wondering, but didn’t know which one of them he should ask. “Let me guess. Work trip?” Hyunjin says, and Chan’s glumness is broken by a smile like a sunray.
啊,这就是为什么他错过了 Felix 两场演出的原因。贤真一直在猜,但不知道该问哪一个。 “让我猜猜。工作出差?” 贤真说,陈的闷闷情绪被一道像阳光般的微笑打破。

“What gave it away? Yeah, if you can believe it, there are actually national conferences for data entry. I get back late Sunday night.”

Hyunjin hums. “So I won’t see you Friday,” he says. “But do you think you’ll still be up for dinner the next Tuesday?”
Hyunjin 哼着小曲。“所以周五见不到你了,”他说。“但你觉得下周二晚饭还行吗?”

“Of course, if you’ll have me,” Chan says. His smile is so nice. He’s such a sight for sore eyes; he’s such a balm for sore everything.
“当然,如果你愿意的话,”Chan 说。他的微笑如此温暖。他是那么让人心旷神怡;他是那么治愈一切的良药。

“Of course I will.” “当然会的。”

This is a night oddly like their first; not their first in the Hilton, but their first ever, walking hand in hand in circles around Chan’s apartment building, talking intimate and sad. Hyunjin is so tired that he can barely keep his eyes open and his feet moving. It’s been so beautiful, with Chan. It couldn’t have been beautiful forever. He thinks about the framed picture of that ballerina on Svetlana Dmitrievna’s desk. Why she looked so familiar. Beauty never lasts. Especially not if it’s skin-deep.
这个夜晚与他们第一次相似得很奇怪;不是在希尔顿的第一次,而是他们第一次一起手牵手在陈的公寓楼周围转圈,谈论亲密而悲伤的话题。Hyunjin 太累了,几乎睁不开眼睛,也难以移动双脚。和 Chan 在一起是如此美好。但美好不可能永恒。他想起斯维特兰娜·德米特里耶夫娜桌子上那幅芭蕾舞者的照片。为什么她看起来那么熟悉。美丽从来都不会持久。尤其是如果只是肤浅的话。

“I’ll miss you,” Hyunjin says quietly.
“我会想念你的,”Hyunjin 轻声说道。

Chan makes an unhappy noise, squeezing his hand. “I’ll miss you, too.”

Hyunjin looks up at the sky. Wishes there were something he could wish on. He raises their linked hands to their mouth, kisses Chan’s knuckles. “No, Chan, I mean it. I really will miss you.”
Hyunjin 抬头望着天空。希望能有什么东西可以许愿。他把他们紧握的手抬到嘴边,亲吻了 Chan 的指关节。“不,Chan,我是认真的。我真的会想念你的。”

“Yeah,” Chan says, not quite comprehending, but growing visibly concerned. “Yeah, I’ll really miss you, too.”
“是的,” 陈说道,虽然并没有完全理解,但他显然开始感到担忧。“是的,我也会非常想念你的。”

“We’ve known each other for so long now,” Hyunjin murmurs. He’s still looking up; in his peripherals, Chan stops walking, and Hyunjin stops with him. “I’ve done things with you I’ve never done with anyone else. I’ve—felt things, too.”
“我们已经认识彼此很久了,” 灏辰低声说道。他仍然仰望着天空;在他的周围,陈停下了脚步,灏辰也跟着停了下来。“我和你做过的事情,我从未和其他人做过。我也——也有过感觉。”

“Paris,” Chan breathes. “巴黎,” 陈轻声说道。

“I’ve tried to tell you it’s not all an act for me,” Hyunjin goes on, even quieter. “I don’t know whether you believed me. I understand why you wouldn’t.”
“我试图告诉你,对我来说并不全是表演,” 玄辰继续说,声音更低。 “我不知道你是否相信我。我明白你为什么不会相信。”

“Paris.” “巴黎。”

“Ask me,” Hyunjin says. Suddenly, he looks down. Straight at Chan, right into his eyes. Chan’s the one who flinches, but only slightly. “Ask me the one basic question you’ve never asked me before.”
“问我吧,” 玄辰说。突然间,他低头看着陈,直勾勾地盯着他的眼睛。陈是那个略微畏缩的人。 “问我那个你从未问过我的基本问题。”

Chan swallows, his lips purse, he’s trying not to smile. “Wh… what do you eat?”
陈吞咽了一下,嘴唇紧抿,努力不笑。“你... 你吃什么?”

Hyunjin blinks heavily. “What?”

“Twilight joke,” Chan explains, reddening. “Like when Edward—no, my bad. I don’t—I don’t know. What question?”

This would all be so much easier if Hyunjin didn’t adore Chan so much. He fights off a smile, too. He pushes against Chan’s shoulder with their tightly interwoven hands. “My real name.”

“Oh,” Chan mouths. “哦,”灿嘴唇动了动。

Hyunjin nods. He sets his jaw. “Ask me.”

Chan is quiet. He’s standing very close. There’s no such thing left as personal space with them; Hyunjin thinks if Chan were injured, he would feel it, too. Chan turns their hands over and copies Hyunjin, kisses him in the same place. He looks up like a knight swearing fealty to his liege. “Paris,” he says, “who are you?”

Hyunjin pulls their hands down. He kisses Chan on the mouth. “Next time I see you,” he murmurs, “I’ll tell you. I promise. I want you to know.”

Chapter End Notes 章节结束备注

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1 kudos = a ticket to the ballet, 1 comment = a total apartment remodel by the one and only hwang paris hyunjin
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thank you so much for reading and enjoying thus far!!!! and tune in for the finale next friday at 5pm eastern...!
非常感谢你们迄今为止的阅读和喜爱!!!请继续关注下周五东部时间下午 5 点的大结局...!

act iv 第四幕

Chapter Summary 章节摘要

I’m a good girl 我是个乖乖女
You can’t blame me for my mistakes


—“Heaven’s Gates,” Devault feat. Izzy Camina
——“天堂之门”,Devault feat. Izzy Camina

Chapter Notes 章节注释

Hyuna dressed one boyfriend up in black, the other in white. Hyunjin always gets them confused, even though they’re quite different in appearance and personality, and somehow, the contrasting outfits don’t diminish the effect. Seeing her at the stage door, though, after the hell weeks Hyunjin has been barely living through, would have made tears spring to Hyunjin’s eyes if he hadn’t just lost half his body’s moisture content through sweat. “Sticky,” she comments, one-arm hugging him.
Hyuna 把一个男朋友打扮成黑色,另一个打扮成白色。尽管他们在外貌和个性上有很大不同,Hyunjin 总是搞混他们,而且不知怎的,截然不同的服装并没有减弱效果。然而,在经历了艰难的几周之后,在舞台门口看到她,如果不是 Hyunjin 刚刚通过汗水失去了身体的一半水分,眼泪可能已经涌上他的眼眶。“粘”,她评论道,一只手搂着他。

“That’s all you have to say?” Hyunjin says, sniffing indignantly (but also emotionally).
“你就这么说?”Hyunjin 不满地嗅了嗅(但也带着情感)。

“It was incredible,” says Rich Boyfriend, offering Hyunjin a bouquet.

“I liked the part with the swans,” says Weird Boyfriend.

Hyunjin takes the bouquet—mostly daisies—and smiles at Weird Boyfriend. “Thank you for coming,” he says nonspecifically to all of them. “I hope it wasn’t a total waste of time.”

“I know this is a lot to ask, but please don’t be ridiculous,” Hyuna says, and keeps her arm around his sweaty waist as they start heading away from the theater and toward the nearby hysterically overpriced tapas bar she selected for a post-show celebration. “Obviously we were going to come. Even if not just to support you, but also because, like. You’ve been going through a lot. I wanted to see if it was all worth it.”
“我知道这有点过分,但请不要胡闹,”Hyuna 说着,一边把手搭在他满是汗水的腰上,一边他们开始离开剧院,朝着她选定的附近那家疯狂高价的小吃酒吧走去,为了庆祝演出结束。“显然我们会来的。不仅是为了支持你,还因为,嗯。你经历了很多。我想看看这一切是否值得。”

“Haha,” Hyunjin says nervously, glancing back at the two boyfriends, whose heads are leaned together as they consider the order of charms on Rich Boyfriend’s bizarre Pandora-style bracelet. “Do you mean the grueling rehearsal schedule, or…?”
“哈哈”,Hyunjin 紧张地说着,回头看了看那两个男朋友,他们的头靠在一起,考虑着 Rich Boyfriend 怪异的 Pandora 风格手链上吊坠的顺序。“你是指那些艰苦的排练时间,还是……?”

Her guilty face says it all. “Look. You said not to tell Dad, and I didn’t.”

Hyunjin squawks. “Well! Are they going to tell—”
Hyunjin 尖叫道。“嘿!他们会告诉——”

“C’mon,” Hyuna says, now scandalized. “They’re cool.”
“走吧,”Hyuna 说,现在感到震惊。“他们很酷。”

Hyunjin really doesn’t understand Hyuna’s definition of the word. And he really doesn’t like that the boyfriends know about his current situation. Drying sweat is making his whole body feel like one big itch. He squirms his way out of Hyuna’s hold, crossing his arms around himself tightly instead. “What exactly did you tell them?”
Hyunjin 真的不理解 Hyuna 对这个词的定义。他真的不喜欢男朋友们知道他目前的情况。干燥的汗水让他整个身体感觉像一个大痒痒。他挣扎着挣脱 Hyuna 的控制,紧紧地双臂交叉在身前。“你到底告诉他们什么了?”

Hyuna’s looking at him consideringly, as if trying to determine how upset he really is. She’s probably underestimating it. “I mean…” She purses her lips. “Basically everything you told me. I’m sorry—”
"Hyuna 看着他考虑地,仿佛在试图确定他到底有多难过。她可能低估了。“我的意思是…”她嘟起嘴。“基本上你告诉我的一切。对不起—”

“Great, now they think I’m a terrible person, too,” Hyunjin bemoans. He dodges when she tries to hug him again. Walking behind them, the boyfriends have quieted and are just watching this exchange unfold. Hyunjin just danced his heart out onstage for two hours (on and off; all told, he only has about twenty minutes of stage-time) and yet he’s never felt more vulnerable than in this moment. He doesn’t know them; he can’t even keep their names straight. They only came to this stupid show because their stupid girlfriend made them. And yet they know the intimate, private details of Hyunjin’s trainwreck of a love life. Can’t they talk about the show? Can’t they talk about the process of putting something as labor-intensive as a full-scale ballet production together? About the symbolism, about the story, about—God damn it—the dancing? Hyuna opens the door for the rest of them all, and Hyunjin sighs as he goes through. He can’t wait to talk about Chan.
“太好了,现在他们也认为我是个可怕的人了,” Hyunjin 悲叹。当她再次试图拥抱他时,他躲开了。走在他们后面的男朋友们安静下来,只是看着这场交流的发生。Hyunjin 在舞台上跳了两个小时的舞(断断续续地;总共,他只有大约二十分钟的舞台时间),但他从未在这一刻感到比现在更脆弱。他不认识他们;他甚至连他们的名字都记不住。他们只是因为他们的女朋友逼迫才来看这个愚蠢的表演。然而他们却知道 Hyunjin 恋爱生活中那些亲密、私人的细节。他们不能谈谈表演吗?不能谈谈像全剧场芭蕾舞剧这样劳动密集的东西的制作过程吗?关于象征意义,关于故事,关于—该死—舞蹈?Hyuna 为他们所有人打开了门,Hyunjin 走了进去时叹了口气。他迫不及待地想要谈论 Chan。

Once they’ve all settled in their booth, Hyuna has ordered for herself and Hyunjin, and Rich Boyfriend has ordered for Weird Boyfriend, Hyuna leans across the table, eyes aglint. “Okay. So. Fill us in. What’s the latest?”
当他们都在包厢里安顿下来后,Hyuna 已经为她和 Hyunjin 点了菜,Rich Boyfriend 为 Weird Boyfriend 点了菜,Hyuna 俯身过桌,眼睛闪闪发光。“好的。那么。告诉我们。最新的情况是什么?”

Hyunjin glances between the boyfriends and Hyuna. “Um…” Somehow, knowing that Chan is a multi-hour flight away helps him breathe through his unsteadiness. There’s no risk Chan will walk in on this conversation; he looks around and confirms that Felix isn’t here, either. He can exhale. He’s been wound too tightly. This is a momentary loosening before the inevitable snap. “Well… I decided I have to tell him the truth. About who I am.”
Hyunjin 在男朋友和 Hyuna 之间瞥了一眼。“嗯…”不知怎么的,知道 Chan 隔着数小时的飞行距离让他能够在不稳定中呼吸。没有风险让 Chan 走进这个谈话;他四处看了看,确认 Felix 也不在这里。他可以呼出一口气。他一直绷得太紧了。这是在不可避免的崩溃之前的暂时放松。“嗯…我决定必须告诉他真相。关于我是谁。”

“Just checking, do you mean not a real prostitute, or his ex’s best friend?” asks Rich Boyfriend seriously.

Hyunjin winces, and a moment later, so does Rich Boyfriend—Hyuna seems to have stomped on his foot. “Both,” Hyunjin answers after the worst of the searing guilt-pain has passed. As alien as it is to talk about all this out loud, in public, in person, it’s a little nice, too—to get it off his chest. “Basically, lately, it’s just been fucking hell trying to keep all this separate. I even had to change some of my performance dates so I wouldn’t have any overlap with Felix, since he’s coming to all Felix’s shows. And I honestly feel like I’m not giving anyone my all right now because I’m so stressed all the time about maintaining the façade. It’s not sustainable.” He rubs at his face for a second. “I know I got myself into this situation. Okay? I know that. And it is fucking hell. But—I’m still sad it’s ending soon.”
Hyunjin 皱了皱眉,片刻之后,Rich Boyfriend 也皱起了眉头——Hyuna 似乎踩到了他的脚。“两个都是,”在灼热的愧疚痛苦过去之后,Hyunjin 回答道。尽管在公共场合、当面谈论所有这些对他来说很陌生,但也有点好处——能够把心里话说出来。“基本上,最近,试图保持这一切分开简直是个噩梦。我甚至不得不改变一些演出日期,以免与 Felix 有任何重叠,因为他要去看 Felix 的所有演出。而且我真的觉得我现在无法全力以赴,因为我总是为保持表面而感到如此紧张。这是不可持续的。”他用手揉了揉脸。“我知道是我把自己置于这种境地。好吗?我知道。这简直是个噩梦。但——我还是很难过它很快就要结束了。”

Weird Boyfriend pipes up: “Is it ending? How do you know?”

Hyunjin blinks at him. Hyuna’s expression doesn’t serve as a decoder. “Well, because—because I’m going to tell him the truth. And he won’t want to see me again after that.”
Hyunjin 瞪大眼睛看着他。Hyuna 的表情并没有起到解码器的作用。“嗯,因为——因为我要告诉他真相。之后他就不会想再见我了。”

Rich Boyfriend and Hyuna exchange a look too quick for Hyunjin to track. “You said you’ve been seeing him twice a week lately?” Hyuna asks, and once Hyunjin nods, she shrugs. “I don’t know. It sounds like he could be really attached to you, too. Might not want to give up on it so easy.”
富家男友和 Hyuna 交换了一个对于 Hyunjin 来说太快无法跟踪的眼神。“你说最近每周见他两次?”Hyuna 问道,Hyunjin 点头后,她耸耸肩。“我不知道。听起来他可能也对你很依赖。也许不想轻易放弃。”

“If he is, he’d be attached to Paris, though,” Hyunjin explains, hollow. “Not me.”

“What’s Paris like?” Rich Boyfriend says.
“巴黎是什么样的?” 富家男友问道。

“Narrow,” says Weird Boyfriend. “Lot of museums.”

Hyunjin grinds his knuckles into a tight spot on his thigh, under the table, and focuses on the aching sting rather than the unfolding inanity. “Confident,” he answers. “Worldly. Affectionate. Caring. Devoted to a fault. Stubborn.”
Hyunjin 用指关节磨擦着大腿上的一个疼痛点,在桌子下集中精力于疼痛的刺痛,而不是正在上演的愚蠢。“自信,”他回答。“世故,充满爱心。关心体贴。忠诚到极致。固执。”

Hyuna and the boyfriends look between each other, and Hyuna shrugs. “That sounds a lot like you, minus the first thing.”
Hyuna 和男朋友们相互看了看,Hyuna 耸了耸肩。“那听起来很像你,除了第一条。”

“No,” Hyunjin protests immediately, “no, that’s the problem—it’s all a persona—”
“不,”Hyunjin 立刻抗议道,“不,问题是——这一切都是一个角色——”

“Is it? Or does he just think it is?” Hyuna points out.
“是吗?还是他只是认为是?”Hyuna 指出。

Hyunjin can’t get into this right now. He can’t let them resurrect hope that’s long since died of starvation. He stares wordlessly at the surface of the table, and doesn’t particularly blink as a couple of waiters arrive to pour water and sangria and clear space for their first round of arriving dishes. “I don’t even know how to tell him,” he murmurs. “I said I’d tell him, but I didn’t actually think about it before I said it. How do you even start to tell someone something like this?”
Hyunjin 现在无法讨论这个问题。他不能让他们复活早已饿死的希望。他无言地盯着桌子表面,当几名服务员过来倒水、桑格利亚并为第一轮菜肴清理空间时,他并没有特别眨眼。“我甚至不知道该怎么告诉他,”他低声说。“我说过我会告诉他,但在我说出口之前我并没有真正考虑过。你怎么开始告诉某人这样的事情呢?”

“You just start,” says Weird Boyfriend and crunches on a cucumber.

“Can we talk about something else for now?” Hyunjin attempts, mildly despairing. “Like, the ballet?”
“我们现在能谈谈别的吗?”Hyunjin 试图说,略带绝望。“比如,芭蕾舞?”

Hyuna has been regarding Hyunjin with a discomfiting mixture of pity and fascination, and she nods decisively, raising her glass of sangria. “Oh, right, great point. Cheers, here’s to the prima ballerina!”
Hyuna 一直用一种令人不安的怜悯和着迷的眼神看着 Hyunjin,她果断地点头,举起她的桑格利亚酒杯。“哦,对了,说得好。干杯,为了芭蕾舞女主角!”

“I’m not—I’m a danseur noble,” Hyunjin grumbles, but permits himself one warming sip of sangria anyway.
“我不是——我是一名贵族舞者,”Hyunjin 抱怨道,但还是允许自己喝了一口桑格利亚暖暖身子。

“Anyway,” Hyuna says once she’s swallowed her big gulp, “we talked about something else, now we can go back to your scandy double life. When are you seeing him next?”
“不管怎样,”Hyuna 一口气喝完后说,“我们已经谈论了其他事情,现在可以回到你那个神秘的双重生活了。你下次见他是什么时候?”

Hyunjin’s lips flatten. He doesn’t know what he expected. But, relenting, he answers, “Tuesday. He’s out of town right now. Business trip.” (Rich Boyfriend starts nodding knowingly.)
Hyunjin 的嘴唇变得扁平。他不知道自己期待什么。但最终,他回答道:“星期二。他现在出差了。公干。”(富家男友开始会意地点头。)

“And today’s… Thursday,” Hyuna says. Weird Boyfriend offers a hand so she can count the days out on her fingers. “Hey, you’ve got four whole days and most of a fifth to prepare yourself for this. You’ll be fine. You’re great at rehearsing.”
“今天是……星期四,”Hyuna 说。怪异男友伸出一只手,让她可以用手指数出剩下的日子。“嘿,你还有整整四天,还有大部分第五天来准备自己。你会没问题的。你擅长排练。”

“Ha,” Hyunjin says miserably.

“I mean, what would you do?” Hyuna says, turning to Rich Boyfriend. “If it was you in this situation.”

“You mean if I were the Hyunjin, or if I were the…” Rich Boyfriend at least has the decency to pretend Hyuna didn’t tell him Chan’s name, pausing in fake thought. “…Client?”
“你是指如果我是贤真,还是如果我是…” 富二代至少有点良心地假装不知道現役女神告诉他灿的名字,假装思考着说道。“客户?”

“If you were Chan,” Hyuna encourages with a nod, and Hyunjin stifles a weary sigh.
“如果你是陈,”Hyuna 鼓励地点点头,而 Hyunjin 忍住了一声疲倦的叹息。

Rich Boyfriend thinks harder, but probably for real this time. “Well, I just don’t know how I’d get into a situation like that in the first place,” he says, and over Hyuna and Weird Boyfriend’s groans of buzzkill, he continues, “But I think I’d hear him out. It’s been, what, six months? That’s a big investment of time.”
Rich Boyfriend 努力思考,但这次可能是认真的。“嗯,我只是不知道我怎么会陷入这种情况,”他说道,在 Hyuna 和 Weird Boyfriend 的抱怨声中继续说道,“但我想我会听他说。已经过去了,什么,六个月了吧?那可是很大的时间投资。”

“And money,” Hyuna adds unhelpfully.
“还有金钱,”Hyuna 无益地补充道。

“That, too.” Rich Boyfriend takes a pensive bite of pan con tomate. “So, I definitely wouldn’t run away screaming, but again, I’m not the type to do that. I think I’d… want to know he had his reasons. That it hadn’t just been a fucked-up psychological experiment.”
“那也是。” 富家男友沉思地咬了一口番茄面包。“所以,我绝对不会尖叫跑掉,但我也不是那种人。我想...我会想知道他有他的理由。这不仅仅是一个搞砸的心理实验。”

“It’s not,” Hyunjin mumbles.
“不是。” 玄辛嘟囔道。

Hyuna ponders Rich Boyfriend’s answer, then nods, reaching across the table to touch Weird Boyfriend’s flower-tattooed hand. “How about you?”
Hyuna 思考了富家男友的回答,然后点了点头,伸手过桌子去碰了碰怪异男友花纹纹身的手。“你呢?”

Weird Boyfriend looks like he was about to fall asleep, but that’s possibly just his face. Blinking heavily, he says, “I’d probably have suspected something was up forever. Wouldn’t come as a huge surprise.”

“Really?” Hyunjin says, fidgeting. “Why?”

“Nothing’s what it looks like,” Weird Boyfriend says. “Nobody’s who they say they are. I’m used to it.”

“And I would be impressed by the world-building,” Hyuna cuts in. “But I’d also probably ask for my money back. Sorry.”
“我会对这个世界观感到印象深刻,”Hyuna 插话道。“但我可能会要求退款。抱歉。”

Hyunjin had to move it all into a separate closet a couple of months ago; his mattress had been growing unsleepable. Mutely, considering these responses, he nods. That’s two votes for a neutral-positive ending—one vote for neutral-negative. It’s not what he’d expected. He’s sure they’re just being nice to him since he’s so very sad. He puts a pillow over hope’s face and presses down. Burns it at the root. Clips its wings. Even though it’s dead—its presence lingers, spectral. He sips his sangria again, and tastes the words: I haven’t been completely honest with you, and I hope you understand that my intention was never to hurt you. This has gotten so out of hand because I care about you so much more than I ever knew I could care about anyone. I love you. I’m sorry. Redundant, that last. Two sips of sangria and suddenly he understands why Chan apologizes so much. Exhausted, threadbare, he has to rub away a burgeoning tear. He’s so glad Hyuna came to see his show—he’s so glad she doesn’t hate him. When all of this is over, at least he’s got one person who won’t hate him. Or maybe three people. “Thank you,” he says, finally speaking up, and looks at each of them in turn. “Really, thank you, Hui, Hyojong, Hyuna. I really appreciate—everything.”
Hyunjin 几个月前不得不把所有东西都搬到另一个壁橱里;他的床垫已经变得无法入眠。默默地考虑着这些回应,他点点头。这是两票支持中性积极结局,一票支持中性消极。这不是他预料的。他确信他们只是在对他好,因为他如此悲伤。他把枕头压在希望的脸上。将其扼杀在摇篮中。剪断它的翅膀。即使它已经死了,它的存在仍然挥之不去,幽灵般地萦绕。他再次啜饮桑格利亚,品味着那些话语:“我没有完全诚实地对待你,希望你能理解,我的初衷从未是伤害你。这一切变得如此失控,是因为我对你的关心超乎我所能想象的。我爱你。对不起。”最后那句多余了。喝了两口桑格利亚,突然间他明白了为什么 Chan 经常道歉。疲惫不堪,破烂不堪,他不得不擦去一颗即将萌发的眼泪。他为 Hyuna 来看他的演出感到高兴——他为她不讨厌他感到高兴。当这一切结束时,至少他有一个不会讨厌他的人。或者可能是三个人。“谢谢你们,”他最终开口说道,依次看着他们。 “真的,谢谢你们,辉、孝钟、泫雅。我真的很感激——一切。””

Hyuna’s face crinkles up into a smile, and she reaches to push at his arm. “Don’t mention it.”

“Also,” says Weird Boyfriend, “actually, I’m Hyojong and he’s Hui.”

“Don’t mention that, either,” Hyuna scolds. “I was just going to let him have it.”
“别提那个,”Hyuna 斥责道。“我本来打算让他拿走的。”

Hyunjin’s blushing, Hyunjin’s trying to make excuses, but—for the first time this week, Hyunjin feels something like okay. He’s not holding his breath that it’ll last.
Hyunjin 脸红了,Hyunjin 试图找借口,但是——这周第一次,Hyunjin 感觉有点好。他并不指望这种感觉能持续下去。




This Sunday night is the only time he and Felix get to dance a show together—until the still-pending finale—and it’s so fun to be with him. In the rush of everything, Hyunjin had nearly forgotten, but it all comes rushing back full force when he and Felix are straightening each other’s bobby pins, doing each other’s foundation touch-ups, mirroring each other’s poses in the wings, five minutes left to opening curtain. It’s a shame he had to change his dates, has had no choice but to avoid this; won’t he and Felix make the prettiest matching set on this stage? Where Felix is delicate, Hyunjin is strong—where Felix is ethereal, Hyunjin is grounded. He can already imagine them a few years—not too many—down the line, the principals in this same show, Felix as the Prince, Hyunjin as the Swan. How they could take the world by storm. It’s a delirious fantasy, one almost too big to hold in his heart, and it makes him have to stifle giddy giggles that make Felix go, “What?”
这个星期天晚上是他和 Felix 唯一一次一起表演的时间——直到尚未结束的结局——和他在一起真的很有趣。在一切匆忙中,Hyunjin 几乎忘记了,但当他和 Felix 互相整理发夹,互相补妆,站在舞台边上模仿对方的姿势时,所有的记忆都涌现回来,离开幕只剩五分钟。他不得不改变约会时间,不得不避免这一切,真是遗憾;他和 Felix 会不会在这个舞台上成为最漂亮的搭配?Felix 娇弱,Hyunjin 强壮——Felix 飘渺,Hyunjin 脚踏实地。他已经能想象到几年后——不会太久——他们会成为同一场演出中的主角,Felix 饰演王子,Hyunjin 饰演天鹅。他们将如何席卷世界。这是一个狂热的幻想,几乎太大到无法容纳在他的心中,这让他不得不忍住兴奋的咯咯笑声,让 Felix 问:“怎么了?”

“Nothing,” Hyunjin says, slinging his arm around Felix’s shoulders and squeezing tightly. “Just—merde.”
“没事,”Hyunjin 说着,一只胳膊搭在 Felix 的肩膀上,紧紧地拥抱着。“只是——merde。”

“Merde,” Felix answers, beaming, his own arm slipping through to grab onto Hyunjin’s waist. His teeth glitter in the half-dark, and one of the makeup artists put a couple of rhinestones on a couple of his freckles, making him so alien-elfin that Hyunjin almost can’t comprehend his face, even from so up close.
"“该死,” 菲利克斯笑着回答,他的手臂伸过去抓住贤振的腰。他的牙齿在半暗中闪闪发光,化妆师在他的一些雀斑上贴了几颗闪亮的水晶,使他看起来像外星精灵,以至于贤振几乎无法理解他的脸,即使如此近距离。”

The orchestra has finished tuning and the house lights are going down. The audience is quieting. Felix turns to look out onto the stage, and Hyunjin looks at Felix, sweet Felix, just a moment longer, before doing the same. And then they go, together.

It’s easy to imagine it’s all for him. The music—Svetlana Dmitrievna would eviscerate Hyunjin for even thinking along these lines, but what if Tchaikovsky wrote this knowing Hyunjin Hwang would dance it someday? The applause. The lights. The flowers. He’s only in a handful of scenes, but he can feel how many eyes are on him; the fact that Felix is there, too, somehow only enhances the effect. They’re the brightest points, the twin centers of the galaxy. He loves dancing with Felix. He wishes they could do this all the time. He hopes Svetlana Dmitrievna’s watching closely; he hopes, for once, she’s proud.

Intermission never feels like a full fifteen minutes. Hyunjin sips water so slowly he may as well just rub it on his lips, and Felix blots his brow of sweat. They don’t talk much. The girls are all collapsed on the floor like so many crumpled sheets of paper, and Hyunjin would be right there with them if he weren’t worried about an awkward slouch-pose leaving his torso—which will be bare for Act III—with an unsightly crease. He’s been so perfect lately, and it’s a streak he doesn’t want to see broken.

The part with the swans, as Hyojong put it, is Hyunjin’s favorite, too. He loves dancing through a dream sequence; it’s where he’s best. Neither human nor man, swan nor shadow, he curves and leaps, and when it’s over, he thinks, I could have done that forever, even as his bones groan in protest. Felix is wincing, too, as they await their final scene, and Hyunjin holds his hand in small, silent comfort. It’s the paradox of ballet, the top of the mountain where Sisyphus is pushing his boulder despite knowing it’s about to fall: that they all wish they could do it forever, but it’s such a flash in the pan, such an exception to the rule of life. Even wanting makes it impossible. Their bodies won’t last forever regardless of what their hearts do. Still—the music swells—Hyunjin stands tall and draws in a breath that fills each of his molecules, as he starts to enter the stage for the grand finale of the show—they want it, stubborn and defiant in the face of impermanence.
与天鹅有关的部分,如 Hyojong 所说,也是 Hyunjin 最喜欢的部分。他喜欢在梦境序列中起舞;那是他最擅长的地方。既非人类也非男人,既非天鹅也非影子,他弯曲跃动,当一切结束时,他想,我本可以永远这样做,尽管他的骨头在抗议中呻吟。Felix 也在皱眉,当他们等待最后一场戏时,Hyunjin 默默地握住他的手,给予小小的安慰。这就是芭蕾的悖论,就像西西弗斯在推着巨石上山尽管知道它即将坠落一样:他们都希望能永远这样做,但这只是生命规则的一个例外,转瞬即逝。即使渴望也让这变得不可能。无论他们的心灵如何,他们的身体都不会永存。然而——音乐奏响——Hyunjin 挺直身躯,深吸一口气,充满每一个分子,当他开始走上舞台,为演出的盛大结局做准备——他们渴望着,顽强而挑衅地面对无常。

After, the locker room is so unglamorous. Swearing like sailors and unwrapping plasma-sodden sweated-grey bandages. Chattering loudly to make up for the two hours of speaking only with their bodies. Hyunjin washes his face while Felix runs outside to make sure it’s not raining. Hyunjin is exhausted, yes, but he’s not unhappy, for once. He loves the way he danced. It was so nice to dance with Felix. His reflection is clean and shiny. Felix said something about maybe doing dinner, before he scampered away. Hyunjin smiles at himself, then turns away to finish packing up his bag so he’ll be ready to go when Felix comes back. How selfish of Hyunjin—to enjoy things when he knows he won’t get to keep them. But he can’t help himself. He never could.

Felix runs back in. Smiling huge and frenetic. “Are you almost ready to go?”

“Yeah, just about,” Hyunjin says. He yawns. “Is it raining?”

“Yes, so Chan’s heading to the resto already, we should hurry,” Felix urges.
“是的,Chan 已经去餐厅了,我们应该赶紧去,” Felix 催促道。

“Oh, okay.” Hyunjin’s bag slips right out of his hands. It clatters on the floor, makeup brushes spilling everywhere. He stares at Felix. He knows he misheard. It can’t be. It can’t. “Wait, sorry—what?”
“哦,好的。” Hyunjin 的包从手中滑落。它在地板上发出咔嗒声,化妆刷到处都是。他盯着 Felix。他知道自己听错了。不可能。不可能。“等等,抱歉—什么?”

“Chan’s here,” Felix explains. Out of breath, smiling so wide it’s eclipsing his whole sunny face. “He was out of town for work, but he changed his flight so he could see the show tonight. He surprised me outside just now! I had no idea! God, he’s always been terrible with secrets, I can’t believe he didn’t let it slip!”
“Chan 在这里,” Felix 解释道。上气不接下气,笑得满脸都是。 “他因工作出差,但他改变了航班,所以他今晚能来看演出。他刚才在外面给我一个惊喜!我完全不知道!天啊,他一直很糟糕地保守秘密,我简直不敢相信他没有泄露!”

“Chan’s here?” Hyunjin repeats. His hands can’t reach to pick his bag back up. No part of him can do anything. “Chan—is here?”
“Chan 在这里?”Hyunjin 重复道。他的手无法伸到拿起自己的包。他的任何部分都无法做任何事情。“Chan——在这里?”

“Yes, not literally here here since he went on to the resto to save us a table, but he saw the show and everything, yeah,” Felix grins. “Come on, come on, hurry up, I told him you were coming. You’re finally going to meet him properly, ahh! Finally!”
“是的,他不是真的在这里,因为他去餐厅给我们订了桌子,但他看了演出和一切,是的,” 费利克斯笑着说。“快点,快点,赶紧,我告诉他你要来了。你终于要正式见他了,啊!终于!”

There’s a roaring in Hyunjin’s ears. Black spots pervading his field of vision, edges of everything shimmering gold, narrowing like a vignette. If he doesn’t take a sip of water and sit down, he’ll faint, he’ll fall, he’ll hit his head, he’ll die and wake up six months ago, blissfully asking Felix Who was that dropping you off? and not caring about the answer. What did he do, in a past life? How many people did he kill, how many lives did he ruin? What did he do to deserve this? He’s so panicked that his whole body’s gone ice-cold, and he’s taking so long to move that Felix clicks his tongue impatiently and reaches down to stuff and grab Hyunjin’s bag for him. Hyunjin stumbles after him.
在 Hyunjin 耳边嗡嗡作响。黑色斑点弥漫在他的视野中,一切边缘都闪着金色,像一个渐晕效果。如果他不喝口水坐下来,他会晕倒,他会摔倒,他会撞到头,他会死去然后醒来六个月前,幸福地问 Felix 谁是那个送你的人?并且不在乎答案。他在前世做了什么?他杀了多少人,毁了多少生命?他做了什么才配受到这样的对待?他如此恐慌以至于他全身冰冷,动作迟缓,Felix 不耐烦地咂舌,弯腰拿起 Hyunjin 的包并帮他拿着。Hyunjin 蹒跚跟在他后面。

And he’d been happy. And he’d been calm. And he’d danced without a care in the world—lulled into a false sense of security by Chan’s purported distance. But Chan had been there the whole time. The whole time, Hyunjin’s greatest fear was unfolding, and he was absolutely none the wiser. Sisyphus, looking up at the mountain and thinking, maybe I’ll get it this time. The swans flying toward the dawn and hoping this is the day their curse is broken.
他曾经很快乐。他曾经很平静。他毫无顾忌地跳舞——被 Chan 所谓的疏远所蒙蔽,陷入了一种虚假的安全感。但 Chan 一直在那里。整个时间,Hyunjin 最大的恐惧正在上演,而他却毫无察觉。西西弗斯仰望着山峰,或许这次我会成功。天鹅飞向黎明,希望今天是他们解除诅咒的日子。

By the time they’ve made it to the restaurant where Chan is allegedly waiting, Hyunjin has swallowed his own vomit at least twice. Their slim arms didn’t make for very good umbrellas, so they’re both a little water-logged, and Hyunjin’s hoping for rapid-onset tuberculosis, or to drown in half an inch of rain. He’s past panic. He’s just blind. He’s not even shaking anymore, impervious to the chill because his veins are frozen solid. Felix says, “This way,” and guides him, and Hyunjin should have run, he should have hid, because there’s Chan, and it’s too late to run now, it’s too late to hide. Felix has Hyunjin’s hand in one of his, and the other’s popping up to wave to Chan. Chan pops up out of his chair to wave back, and then his eyes move. And his hand stops mid-air.
当他们到达餐厅,据说灿正在等待的时候,贤真至少已经吞下自己的呕吐物两次。他们纤细的手臂并不是很好的伞,所以他们都有点被淋湿了,贤真希望自己能快速患上肺结核,或者在半英寸的雨水中淹死。他已经超越了恐慌。他只是盲目的。他甚至不再颤抖,因为他的血管已经冻结成固体。Felix 说,“这边走”,然后引导他,贤真本应该逃跑,他本应该躲起来,因为那是灿,现在逃跑已经太迟了,躲藏已经太迟了。Felix 一只手握着贤真的手,另一只手挥向灿。灿从椅子上站起来回应挥手,然后他的眼睛移动了。他的手停在半空中。

“This place is so cute, thank you for finding it! Ah, I seriously can’t believe you, how could you do this to me, since when have you been sneaky,” Felix is saying, bubbling over, giggling, but Chan’s staring, Hyunjin’s flayed, and neither one of them is saying a word or moving a muscle. Two eyes meeting; too much to explain. Wrong place, wrong time. Wrong move.
“这个地方太可爱了,谢谢你找到它!啊,我真的不敢相信你,你怎么能这样对我,你什么时候变得这么狡猾了,” Felix 说着,兴奋地说着,咯咯笑着,但灿在凝视着,贤真在痛苦中,他们两个都没有说一句话,也没有动一下。两双眼睛相遇;太多无法解释。错误的地方,错误的时间。错误的举动。

Show’s over. Lights back up. Ugly faces revealed when pretty hands scrub makeup away. “You must be the famous Chan,” Hyunjin says, hoarse. Takes plausible deniability by the throat and squeezes till it’s dead. He can’t lie anymore. Can’t pretend he doesn’t know who Chan is; can’t pretend Felix doesn’t know Hyunjin knows who Chan is. If he’s being honest, he may as well be honest. “Felix talks about you—all the time.”

Chan’s wide eyes. He should out Hyunjin then and there. He will. Hyunjin can see five seconds into the future, and he’s seeing overturned tables and shattered glassware, teartracks on Felix’s cheeks, Chan’s throat raw with yelling. There’s a motion, and he flinches, but the motion is actually—Chan extending a hand. So careful. Like approaching a wild creature. With his wide eyes and his careful, nervous smile, he wants to shake Hyunjin’s hand—improbably, a touch they’ve never done before, even after everything, all the ways their bodies have met until today. “Likewise,” Chan says, so gently, slow like in a dream himself. He doesn’t say Hyunjin; it’s like he can’t. “It’s an honor to finally put a name to the face.”
Chan 睁大了眼睛。他应该当场揭露 Hyunjin。他会的。Hyunjin 能看到未来五秒钟,他看到了翻倒的桌子和破碎的玻璃器皿,Felix 脸颊上的泪痕,Chan 喉咙因为大声喊叫而变得嘶哑。有一个动作,他畏缩了,但那个动作实际上是——Chan 伸出了一只手。如此小心。就像接近一只野生动物。他睁大眼睛,小心翼翼的微笑,他想要和 Hyunjin 握手——令人难以置信,一个他们从未做过的接触,即使经历了一切,直到今天他们的身体相遇的所有方式。“同样,”Chan 温柔地说,慢得像在梦中一样。他没有说 Hyunjin;就像他不能说一样。“终于见到真面目,是我的荣幸。”

“Isn’t it the other way around?” Felix says, nose wrinkling, but Chan doesn’t react—he’s shaking Hyunjin’s hand now. A clasp of palm to palm. No cash between. The touch of him—in front of Felix!—makes Hyunjin want to weep. But Chan lets go quickly. He looks away, quickly. He goes around to pull Felix’s chair out for him. He does nothing to Hyunjin’s.
“难道不是相反吗?”Felix 说,皱着鼻子,但 Chan 没有反应——他现在正在和 Hyunjin 握手。掌心相握。没有现金介入。他的触碰——在 Felix 面前!——让 Hyunjin 想要哭泣。但 Chan 很快松开了手。他迅速地转过头去。他走到 Felix 身边为他拉椅子。他对 Hyunjin 什么都没做。

Hyunjin, as always, in the end, has to help himself. He sits. Felix is between them, but it’s a round table, there’s not much buffer. Chan, in one eye’s peripheral vision. Felix, in the other. That hand Chan extended to him wasn’t holding an olive branch; it wasn’t even holding a poisoned dagger with which to stab himself. It had just been empty. Hyunjin’s eyes are fixed on the menu, words blurred to illegibility, but he thinks he can feel Chan looking at him. He knows better, now, than to assume that’s a good thing.
最终,Hyunjin 还是得自己帮自己。他坐下了。Felix 就在他们中间,但是桌子是圆的,没有太多的缓冲。Chan 在一只眼睛的余光中。Felix 在另一只眼睛中。Chan 伸向他的那只手并不是在伸出橄榄枝;甚至不是在握着一把毒剑准备刺向自己。那只手只是空着的。Hyunjin 的目光盯着菜单,字迹模糊到无法辨认,但他觉得自己能感觉到 Chan 在看着他。他现在比以前更明白,不能假设那是件好事。

Chan had seen him dance. He’d watched the whole show. But he’d been so shocked to see Hyunjin walk in. What had he been thinking? That it was such an extraordinary coincidence that Paris, his Paris, was in the same company as Felix? Chan didn’t know the other blond dancer onstage was that very same Hyunjin that Felix has been telling him about. Of course he didn’t. Maybe—if Hyunjin hadn’t walked through that door, if he’d been someone else—Chan would have asked Felix about him; maybe, in another life, it could have truly been a coincidence, the happiest accident. The sugar-sweet kiss of fate. Not this one. Hyunjin blinks at the menu to push back the sudden film of bitter tears blurring his vision even further, and tries to ignore the voice at the back of his head plaintively saying—I wonder what he thought of me.
陈看过他跳舞。他看了整场表演。但是看到贤真走进来,他感到非常震惊。他当时在想什么?他认为巴黎,他的巴黎,和 Felix 在同一个公司工作是多么的巧合?陈不知道舞台上另一个金发舞者就是 Felix 一直在告诉他的那个贤真。当然他不知道。也许——如果贤真没有走进那扇门,如果他是别人——陈可能会问 Felix 关于他的事;也许,在另一个生活中,这可能真的是一个巧合,一个最幸福的意外。命运的甜蜜之吻。但这不是这个。贤真眨了眨眼睛看着菜单,试图抑制住突然涌上的苦涩泪水,更加模糊了他的视线,并试图忽略内心深处哀求的声音——我想知道他对我有什么看法。

“I’ve decided,” Felix announces, dropping his menu. “And honestly, I’m starving.”
“我决定了,”Felix 宣布,放下菜单。“老实说,我饿坏了。”

“Great, yeah, get whatever you want,” Chan says—absently, Hyunjin thinks.
“太好了,随便点吧,”Chan 说着——Hyunjin 觉得他心不在焉。

His own tongue’s frozen. He won’t be able to talk or eat. He risks a glance up, across the table at Felix, who’s still pink-cheeked and giddy at Chan’s presence. He can’t look directly at Chan, but obliquely, he sees that Chan’s smiling, too. Without looking directly, Hyunjin won’t be able to tell if it’s a genuine smile or not. Better that he doesn’t know. And Felix—aren’t they supposed to be friends, too? How can he just sit there laughing and asking Chan how his business trip went and exuding pure joy, with not even the faintest glimmer of awareness that Hyunjin has died inside a thousand times in the last five minutes? Why isn’t he noticing that Chan and Hyunjin, two people he’s wanted to bring together for months, aren’t saying a word to each other? For the first time, Hyunjin can’t help but wonder if Felix’s happiness is so bright that it outshines all else. If Felix isn’t merely unobservant or tactful—if actually, he’s selfish.
他自己的舌头冻住了。他无法说话或进食。他冒险抬头看了一眼对面的 Felix,他仍然面颊泛红,对 Chan 的出现感到兴奋。他无法直视 Chan,但斜眼看到 Chan 也在微笑。没有直接看,Hyunjin 无法判断这是真诚的微笑还是假的。最好他不知道。而 Felix——他们不也应该是朋友吗?他怎么能坐在那里笑个不停,问 Chan 出差如何,散发着纯粹的喜悦,甚至没有一丝意识到 Hyunjin 在过去五分钟里已经死了一千次?为什么他没有注意到 Chan 和 Hyunjin,他想让他们在一起几个月的两个人,竟然一句话都不说?这是 Hyunjin 第一次不禁怀疑 Felix 的幸福是否如此明亮,以至于掩盖了一切。如果 Felix 并非只是不细心或圆滑——实际上,他是