If (9/9)
Gu Yilan in front of him was watching quietly, his warm breath puffing against Su Zesui’s cheek.
Su Zesui, still a bit out of it, absentmindedly raised a hand to touch his slightly swollen lips. Only then did it hit him: “Brother… did you… kiss me?”
Gu Yilan studied the boy’s expression carefully, then reached out to lift his chin, placing another light, delicate kiss on his soft lips. The movement was slow and gentle, giving him plenty of space to pull away if he wanted.
Even in this slightly more sober state, Su Zesui didn’t resist at all. After the kiss, he just looked even more bewildered, repeating in a surprised voice, “Brother… you really kissed me?”
“Mm,” Gu Yilan replied. “Do you remember what I just told you?”
“Brother…” The drunken Su Zesui turned into a chatterbox, ignoring reason entirely. “Why… why did you kiss me?”
Gu Yilan was silent for a moment before answering, “Because I like you.”
But Su Zesui wasn’t satisfied. He pressed further, probing relentlessly, “Why… why do you suddenly like me tonight?”
“It’s not sudden,” Gu Yilan said, lowering his dark eyes, patiently answering the little drunkard’s absurd questions. “I’ve liked you for a long time.”
He had hidden his feelings and tested the waters in so many ways, all out of fear that if things went too far, they might not even remain brothers. Sometimes, when his emotions spiraled out of control, he even needed the guidance of a psychologist just to interact normally with the boy.
Tonight… he had acted on impulse.
“So that’s why when I said I liked men, you… you…” Su Zesui’s muddled mind finally started to make sense of things. But remembering Gu Yilan’s words about not getting married still made him angry.
“You lied to me! If you never intended to marry, why did you go on a blind date?” he accused.
“I never went,” Gu Yilan replied calmly.
Su Zesui let out a heavy “hmph,” wriggling out from under the man’s arm. He sat on the edge of the bed, pointed at the book on the nightstand, and demanded, indignantly, “Then why do you have someone else’s resume? And why did you keep their confession bookmark? You’re two-faced, you bad, heartless man…”
Gu Yilan frowned, thinking for a moment. “You mean the ones the butler gave me? Those were sent from the Gu family mansion—they come every quarter. I’ve received them for over two years and never looked at them. As for the bookmark… that was your Dragon Boat Festival gift to me.”
Su Ze was still racking his brain for insults, but hearing what he said, his mind instantly went blank, and he was struck speechless.
The man’s explanation was reasonable and self-contained, and it was likely true. If so… all the little fits he had thrown tonight, which he’d thought were righteous accusations, had suddenly become nothing more than baseless, unreasonable tantrums.
Feeling a little embarrassed, Su Zesui pressed his swollen lips and awkwardly tried to change the subject. “Um… then… Brother, does this mean we’re… dating now?”
His tone wasn’t nearly as defiant as before; it was soft, almost casual, not too different from how he normally spoke.
Gu Yilan thought for a few seconds. “We’ll talk about that tomorrow, after you’ve sobered up.”
Su Zesui pouted in dissatisfaction. “You kissed me, but don’t want to take responsibility.”
“No,” Gu Yilan said without hesitation. “Decisions made while you’re not clear-headed don’t count.”
“I am clear-headed!” Su Zesui pointed to his little head. “Whatever I said, whatever I did—I’ll remember it all perfectly tomorrow!”
The boy’s tone and gestures were exaggerated, yet he spoke with confidence about being very rational—a little comically, like the old proverb about “there’s no 300 taels of silver buried here.”
Gu Yilan chuckled silently, then resigned with a hint of helplessness. “Fine. Consider it so.”
Satisfied, Su Zesui sat on the bed, about to lift the hem of Gu Yilan’s shirt.
Gu Yilan caught his restless hand, his Adam’s apple moving as he asked, “What are you doing?”
“Sorry…” Su Zesui apologized sincerely. “Let’s… do it. No, I mean, I’ll let you do it.”
Gu Yilan: …?
Su Zesui’s thoughts were all over the place. Since he had misunderstood Gu Yilan, he felt he had to make amends. And if Gu Yilan accepted that they were now a couple, then the fair way to make it up was to give him a first “experience.”
This was pretty normal among young couples, he had often heard. As for himself—well, if it hurt a little, he could just grit his teeth and get through the night. After all, one must take responsibility for their own actions and compensate when they caused trouble.
Thinking this through, Su Zesui rambled on, voicing fragments of his reasoning without any concern for whether Gu Yilan understood.
He rolled onto the bed, lay on his stomach, and bit down on Gu Yilan’s pillow, looking as if he were about to face some great trial. With solemn determination, he said, “Come on… I’m ready!”
But the next moment, Gu Yilan lifted him upright again.
“Who did you learn that from?” the man asked helplessly. “I’m also your brother. Do you want to do ‘that’ with me right now?”
Su Zesui didn’t answer either question. Instead, he yawned sleepily, his eyes watering as he mumbled, “If you don’t come now, there won’t be another chance later, you know.”
Gu Yilan exhaled slowly, looking down at the half-asleep figure on the bed. “Be good. Go take a shower first.”
“Oh, right… have to shower first before we can…” Su Zesui wobbled to his feet. But the man’s dark, piercing gaze stopped him mid-sentence, and the thought disappeared.
Even though he was exhausted, weak, and could accept doing “that” kind of thing with his brother, he still felt embarrassed asking the man to help him bathe. He quickly splashed some warm water on himself, then flopped back onto the bed.
He had planned to wait until Gu Yilan finished his shower so they could both be clean for… well, “that” kind of thing. But the man’s shower went on far longer than normal, and Su Zesui’s eyelids grew heavier and heavier. In the end, he couldn’t resist and fell asleep first.
. . . . .
The next day, the sun shone brightly.
Waking up, along with a hangover-like headache, were the absurd and chaotic memories of last night—and his own reckless, foolish words.
Su Zesui widened his eyes, staring at his brother, who was just inches away, and instinctively softened his breathing.
The room was still the familiar room, and their relationship remained as close as ever. Yet the atmosphere in the air seemed to have shifted subtly, making his heart race uncontrollably.
The series of embarrassing blunders from last night paled in comparison to the impact of “kissing his brother,” “his brother saying they were a couple,” and “letting his brother do ‘that’ kind of thing to him.” These thoughts struck Su Zesui far more deeply.
“Brother,” Su Zesui tilted his small face up, quietly calling to the man holding him in his arms.
Something felt off.
The position felt wrong, the tone felt wrong, even the atmosphere felt wrong.
Su Zesui parted his lips slightly and whispered, “…Boyfriend?”
Now it felt even worse. Embarrassment flushed his face red.
As if on cue, Gu Yilan opened his dark eyes at that moment, lowering his lashes to look at him calmly. It was unclear what he was thinking—or whether he had even heard those two words.
As they stared at each other, the air between them felt thick and sticky, almost suffocating. Yet Gu Yilan’s composure was legendary; no matter how awkward the atmosphere, he remained unmoved.
Unsurprisingly, it was Su Zesui who spoke first, his voice soft: “Brother… are you hugging me to sleep?”
“Hm,” Gu Yilan finally spoke, his voice calm. “Does your head hurt? How much do you remember from last night?”
Su Zesui instinctively raised a hand to touch his lips, stammering, “I-I remember… all of it. I’m… sorry…”
Gu Yilan’s expression grew serious, but he said nothing. Instead, he furrowed his brows slightly and waited quietly for him to continue.
The large hand resting on the boy’s shoulder tightened just a little unconsciously. It didn’t press down on him, but the knuckles whitened.
“I’m sorry,” Su Zesui continued. “I shouldn’t have scolded you.”
Gu Yilan’s fingers suddenly relaxed. “It’s fine. As a little brother, you shouldn’t scold your brother. But if it were another kind of relationship… then you could scold me freely.”
Hearing this, Su Zesui tilted his head, finally beginning to grasp the subtle difference between the two types of intimacy.
With the leftover courage from last night’s experience, he snuggled closer to Gu Yilan and, with a “snap,” bit down on the man’s trapezius muscle in his neck.
A few seconds later, he released his bite and lowered his gaze to admire his handiwork, tentatively whispering, “Brother… I planted a strawberry for you.”
Sure enough, Gu Yilan didn’t get angry or scold him for being reckless. He merely glanced at the mark and raised an eyebrow teasingly. “Looks more like a tooth mark.”
Su Zesui’s eyes lit up.
——He could feel it! The feeling… it was really different!
After getting out of bed, the difference became even more pronounced.
Gu Yilan still cared for him just like before—making him honey water, helping him open gifts, bringing him a big cake—but in that moment, each ordinary gesture tugged at Su Zesui’s heartstrings, making it impossible to look away, his heartbeat racing.
His mind and eyes were full of his brother. At the same time, he could sense that in Gu Yilan’s world, there was only him.
This feeling of being completely and wholly devoted to each other gave Su Zesui, whose bones were steeped in insecurity, an extraordinary comfort—like being wrapped in a fluffy blanket, warm and safe.
You have to give to receive! No risk, no reward!
After lunch, eager to nurture this new relationship, Su Zesui slipped out the door and returned within half an hour, knocking on Gu Yilan’s bedroom door.
On the bed in this spacious bedroom, there was already a pillow that belonged to him. Mr. Gu had said that from now on, they could sleep here together. So…
“Brother, I’m fully awake now,” Su Zesui said.
Gu Yilan, flipping through a pile of complicated reports at his desk, heard him, set the papers down, and looked at the boy a short distance away. “Hm.”
Su Zesui continued, “Brother… I’m an adult now.”
Gu Yilan responded, calmly, “Hm.”
Su Zesui stepped closer and held out something from his pocket. “Brother… this is for you.”
This time, Gu Yilan could no longer just reply with “hm.”
The small box in the boy’s hands was exquisitely packaged, printed with English text and abstract patterns—blocks of color and lines interwoven. It was clearly an 18+ product.
Gu Yilan felt a dry lump in his throat and took a sip of water before asking, “You bought this yourself?”
Blushing, Su Zesui nodded and pressed the box into Gu Yilan’s hand. “Take it.”
Gu Yilan gave a slight nod, pulled open the desk drawer, and placed the little box inside. “Alright. Go do your homework. I’ll take you out after I finish my work.”
Having spent so long mentally preparing himself to offer this small but significant gift, Su Zesui wasn’t about to let it go so easily. Flustered, he scrambled for an excuse: “W-well… the saleslady said there’s a seven-day no-questions-asked return policy. So… maybe we could… try to see how the quality is?”
Gu Yilan’s gaze darkened. “Today is the first day of your adulthood.”
Su Zesui counted on his fingers and persisted, “I am an adult now.”
The moment he said this, the room fell into a heavy, silent stillness. Even with his head lowered, he could feel the intensity of the man’s gaze pressing down on him.
After a long moment, Gu Yilan reopened the drawer. His fingers traced the sharp edges of the small box, and in a husky voice he asked, “Aren’t you scared?”
Of course, Su Zesui was scared—so scared that his whole body was trembling. Especially when he saw how small the box looked in Gu Yilan’s large hand.
He was very sensitive to pain; as a child, even getting a shot or having blood drawn would make him cry loudly enough to be heard down the whole street. Now, offering himself willingly was purely out of “love.”
But a few minutes after it actually began, Su Zesui realized that it didn’t hurt at all—in fact… it even felt a little pleasant.
The only problem was that the bracelet he had given Gu Yilan kept brushing lightly against his skin. Its twisted silver strands were clearly defined and somewhat cold; compared to the softness of his own skin, the sensation felt jarring. And as Gu Yilan’s fingers moved, it would, at some unpredictable moment, graze him again.
Su Zesui’s thighs trembled slightly.
Unable to bear it, he said, “…Can you use the other hand?”
But Gu Yilan ignored him, continuing as he pleased. Su Zesui shrank back and murmured, “…Just… go straight on. Okay?”
Gu Yilan let out a soft laugh, paused, and opened the small box by the bed. “You’re the eldest in the family, so I’ll listen to you,” he said.
. . . . .
From that first letter sent across the ocean to the present, filled with sweat and tears, they had spent more than four years together, creating countless recordings and handwritten letters. Even now, every single one remained carefully preserved in some corner of their home.
Once, they were strangers separated by a vast ocean. A charitable sponsorship program had brought them together, turning them into pen pals who confided their hearts to each other.
Later, a dreamlike turning point originated from a wish made under a Christmas tree. From that moment on, their relationship developed at a lightning-fast speed— From polite “roommates” to inseparable, brotherly companions, and now, to lovers sharing an intimate moment.
And in the future, they would continue walking forward together.
. . . . .
Su Zesui let all his strength go, melting onto the bed, allowing himself to be handled.
It wasn’t until Gu Yilan bent down to kiss him that he traced the familiar features of his brother’s face and, catching his breath, said, “Brother… the trip… are you still going? It’s really fun.”
In this atmosphere, such words were almost amusing to Gu Yilan. He pressed a restrained kiss to the boy’s soft lips and, without hesitation, said, “Go.”
The man’s answer was so decisive that Su Zesui looked at him in confusion. “But… uh, uh… didn’t you say before that you didn’t have time?”
Gu Yilan raised an eyebrow and said, “Chu Shihui and Tao Jiani’s boyfriends are going. How could your boyfriend not go?”
“You… how…” Su Zesui covered his face with both hands. “You remember so clearly?”
Gu Yilan thought for a moment, then said seriously, “Ever since I started liking you, I remember every other name you’ve mentioned.”
Hearing this, Su Zesui couldn’t help but start calculating the timeline in his head. But the days were a little too far back, and his thoughts kept getting interrupted, so after a few minutes, he gave up.
Sweat mixed with their entwined bodies, and Su Zesui’s sense of time seemed to stretch endlessly under the man’s presence.
He didn’t know how long had passed. Eventually, he lay on his side, utterly exhausted, feeling his body so weak that he could hardly sense his bones. His skin was marked with faint spots, his throat hoarse, and all he could manage were a few muffled sounds from deep in his chest.
After drinking the honey water Gu Yilan gave him, he regained his voice like a mermaid returning to form, stubbornly chattering away again.
Looking at the clear scratch marks on Gu Yilan’s back, Su Zesui asked, “Right now… are you my brother, or my boyfriend?”
He asked because when he had been sick before, Gu Yilan had also often given him honey water. The two scenes were so similar that he felt dazed and couldn’t quite distinguish between them.
Gu Yilan placed the cup on the table, turned around, and checked Su Zesui’s forehead. “Both,” he said.
“‘Both’… what does that feel like?” Curious little Su Zesui, feeling a bit more energetic, asked. “Isn’t it supposed to switch? Sometimes being a boyfriend, sometimes being a brother.”
Gu Yilan lay in front of him, reaching out to pull him closer into his arms. “No. You can throw away the ruler at home. If you misbehave like last night, I won’t use the ruler to teach you anymore. Instead, I will…”
Su Zesui held his breath nervously. Just as he was about to ask, “Instead, you’ll what?” he felt a light tap on his hip.
The man’s touch was so gentle it didn’t hurt at all, but Su Zesui, who understood immediately, blushed from his neck to the tips of his ears and buried his face, muttering, “N-no…”
This example was too vivid—the way a single person could be both brother and boyfriend suddenly became clear in his mind.
Relaxing his stubbornness, Su Zesui shifted his body and nestled into a comfortable position in Gu Yilan’s arms. Naturally, the man raised his arm, lightly holding Su Zesui’s back, giving him an added sense of security.
In the afternoon, sunlight filtered through the curtains, casting fleeting patches of warmth over the two on the bed, creating a quiet, peaceful summer atmosphere with a lingering sense of timelessness.
Before settling down for an afternoon nap to recharge, Su Zesui snuggled close to Gu Yilan’s ear and, as if sharing a world-shattering secret, whispered very softly, “Actually… I don’t like men. But I like my brother.”
Gu Yilan lowered his gaze to him, a slow smile curling on his lips. “And your brother only has you.”
-End of “if” storyline-