Qi Ya has always been quick to act, finishing preparing all the camping supplies needed without missing anything in two days. He’s raring to go.
He calls the night before he is coming to Qiaohai, telling Bai Yao what supplies he needs to take, and advising him to write down a list so as not to miss anything.
“Sounds like you just need a tent. I only have one, so unless you want the three of us to squeeze into one, I’m going to ask the agency to lend us one before I come. I’ll be slightly late.”
Bai Yao is ok with that, and tells him to check the equipment before coming, too.
“Of course, who do you think I am? I’ve pitched more tents than you’ve bitten your tail. I won’t forget.”
Classic overly talkative Qi Ya. He is still blabbering on, “I can borrow one big tent suited for three. Us tall guys can make do a little to give your little sea otter plenty of space in the middle…”
He gets interrupted by a casual Bai Yao.
“No can do,” Bai Yao says uncompromisingly, “go borrow a two-person tent besides the single tent. We sleep in our own.”
Qi Ya seems to contemplate for a moment before agreeing, “oh, sure, we can have one. Our guest gets one all to himself.”
Bai Yao pauses.
“…”
He thinks about explaining, but decides not to. It’d be faster to kick Qi Ya right out of the tent when the time comes.
The next day, Qi Ya arrives at Qiaohai. They plan to go tomorrow, and he’ll spend the night in Bai Yao’s.
He was planning to come on the train departing at 9, which should have arrived by 11, but Bai Yao has been waiting from 11:30 onwards, and Qi Ya is still not here by half-past-twelve.
It’s quite boring. Mainly because he can only confirm the rest of stuff to bring along when Qi Ya is here, and distribute the weight appropriately between the three of them.
Bai Yao is sitting by the table with his legs crossed and his fingers tapping on the table, watching Mu Mu’er catalogue each of the seashells he’s collected.
He’s sorting them by size, it seems, and he is busy comparing any two similarly sized seashells, occasionally turning towards Bai Yao and raising the seashells up towards him, possibly trying to compare them to the size of his boyfriend’s head.
Then Bai Yao recalls something, and narrows his eyes a little while pulling a barely perceptible fiendish smile. He says, “Mu’er, come over for a minute.”
Mu Mu’er does not hesitate the slightest before coming over, leaving his little seashells behind to stand in front of Bai Yao, “what’s up?”
Bai Yao is sitting, and Mu Mu’er is standing, so Bai Yao has to raise his head a little to look at him. He puts his arms on the little guy’s waist and brings him a little closer. Then, his fiendish smile widens.
Mu Mu’er is blushing and is trying to avoid gazing into each other’s eyes, but Bai Yao has already taken him by the chin like a hand holding a swallow’s legs right in place. He can only look.
Bai Yao already knows that Mu Mu’er isn’t the best kisser around, and he does not respond very well to kisses led by him, either. That’s a shame, even if he does find his instinctual lip-rubbing endearing, because he wants to be able to properly kiss his boyfriend.
“Yaoyao is going to teach you kissing.”
The mention of kisses is exciting Mu Mu’er, and he has clearly ignored the word ‘teach,’ because he is already leaning in to stick lips together.
Bai Yao leans back and smiles, “the little sea otter only knows how to brush lips, but that is not actually kissing.”
Mu Mu’er tilts his head, “how do you kiss?”
“Purse your lips.”
Clearly, the verb was too difficult for Mu Mu’er. Bai Yao shakes his head, chuckling, “that’s not right.”
Mu Mu’er, disappointed, pouts a little before continuing to try pursing his lips, asking with distorted sounds, “like this…”
However, Bai Yao takes over his lips immediately, leaving him no time to finish his recourse.
After the kiss, Bai Yao is looking up and down the gasping Mu Mu’er, while brushing the little guy’s lips with his fingertips.
Even when he’s ‘pursing’ his lips he’s more like a little duckling than a guy. Cute.
“Eh, good enough.”
Little sea otter, little duckling, whatever he resembles, he’s still Bai Yao’s boyfriend, the one he treasures the most in the entire world.
Another half hour passes before Qi Ya finally arrives, during which Bai Yao simply hugged Mu Mu’er the whole time, as the latter didn’t want to get up from the lap. Bai Yao thinks he understands how cat owners feel when a cat wants to laze about on their owner’s lap – your right to stand up is on the cat now.
Mu Mu’er only gets up after loud footsteps come up the gravel way.
Bai Yao goes to open the door for Qi Ya, who comes in, greets Bai Yao casually, and immediately looks around mumbling, “where’s the little cutie? I damned sure miss him.”
Mu Mu’er, shy as ever, is hiding behind the desk in the meantime. He recognises the man in no time, though, and comes back out to stick to Bai Yao.
“Mu’er…” Before Qi Ya finishes the greeting, though, the boy gives an energetic greeting of his own, “it’s birdie-gege!”
Bai Yao’s shoulders are shaking from an uproarious laugh.
Qi Ya has always been quick to act, finishing preparing all the camping supplies needed without missing anything in two days. He’s raring to go.
He calls the night before he is coming to Qiaohai, telling Bai Yao what supplies he needs to take, and advising him to write down a list so as not to miss anything.
“Sounds like you just need a tent. I only have one, so unless you want the three of us to squeeze into one, I’m going to ask the agency to lend us one before I come. I’ll be slightly late.”
Bai Yao is ok with that, and tells him to check the equipment before coming, too.
“Of course, who do you think I am? I’ve pitched more tents than you’ve bitten your tail. I won’t forget.”
Classic overly talkative Qi Ya. He is still blabbering on, “I can borrow one big tent suited for three. Us tall guys can make do a little to give your little sea otter plenty of space in the middle…”
He gets interrupted by a casual Bai Yao.
“No can do,” Bai Yao says uncompromisingly, “go borrow a two-person tent besides the single tent. We sleep in our own.”
Qi Ya seems to contemplate for a moment before agreeing, “oh, sure, we can have one. Our guest gets one all to himself.”
Bai Yao pauses.
“…”
He thinks about explaining, but decides not to. It’d be faster to kick Qi Ya right out of the tent when the time comes.
The next day, Qi Ya arrives at Qiaohai. They plan to go tomorrow, and he’ll spend the night in Bai Yao’s.
He was planning to come on the train departing at 9, which should have arrived by 11, but Bai Yao has been waiting from 11:30 onwards, and Qi Ya is still not here by half-past-twelve.
It’s quite boring. Mainly because he can only confirm the rest of stuff to bring along when Qi Ya is here, and distribute the weight appropriately between the three of them.
Bai Yao is sitting by the table with his legs crossed and his fingers tapping on the table, watching Mu Mu’er catalogue each of the seashells he’s collected.
He’s sorting them by size, it seems, and he is busy comparing any two similarly sized seashells, occasionally turning towards Bai Yao and raising the seashells up towards him, possibly trying to compare them to the size of his boyfriend’s head.
Then Bai Yao recalls something, and narrows his eyes a little while pulling a barely perceptible fiendish smile. He says, “Mu’er, come over for a minute.”
Mu Mu’er does not hesitate the slightest before coming over, leaving his little seashells behind to stand in front of Bai Yao, “what’s up?”
Bai Yao is sitting, and Mu Mu’er is standing, so Bai Yao has to raise his head a little to look at him. He puts his arms on the little guy’s waist and brings him a little closer. Then, his fiendish smile widens.
Mu Mu’er is blushing and is trying to avoid gazing into each other’s eyes, but Bai Yao has already taken him by the chin like a hand holding a swallow’s legs right in place. He can only look.
Bai Yao already knows that Mu Mu’er isn’t the best kisser around, and he does not respond very well to kisses led by him, either. That’s a shame, even if he does find his instinctual lip-rubbing endearing, because he wants to be able to properly kiss his boyfriend.
“Yaoyao is going to teach you kissing.”
The mention of kisses is exciting Mu Mu’er, and he has clearly ignored the word ‘teach,’ because he is already leaning in to stick lips together.
Bai Yao leans back and smiles, “the little sea otter only knows how to brush lips, but that is not actually kissing.”
Mu Mu’er tilts his head, “how do you kiss?”
“Purse your lips.”
Clearly, the verb was too difficult for Mu Mu’er. Bai Yao shakes his head, chuckling, “that’s not right.”
Mu Mu’er, disappointed, pouts a little before continuing to try pursing his lips, asking with distorted sounds, “like this…”
However, Bai Yao takes over his lips immediately, leaving him no time to finish his recourse.
After the kiss, Bai Yao is looking up and down the gasping Mu Mu’er, while brushing the little guy’s lips with his fingertips.
Even when he’s ‘pursing’ his lips he’s more like a little duckling than a guy. Cute.
“Eh, good enough.”
Little sea otter, little duckling, whatever he resembles, he’s still Bai Yao’s boyfriend, the one he treasures the most in the entire world.
Another half hour passes before Qi Ya finally arrives, during which Bai Yao simply hugged Mu Mu’er the whole time, as the latter didn’t want to get up from the lap. Bai Yao thinks he understands how cat owners feel when a cat wants to laze about on their owner’s lap – your right to stand up is on the cat now.
Mu Mu’er only gets up after loud footsteps come up the gravel way.
Bai Yao goes to open the door for Qi Ya, who comes in, greets Bai Yao casually, and immediately looks around mumbling, “where’s the little cutie? I damned sure miss him.”
Mu Mu’er, shy as ever, is hiding behind the desk in the meantime. He recognises the man in no time, though, and comes back out to stick to Bai Yao.
“Mu’er…” Before Qi Ya finishes the greeting, though, the boy gives an energetic greeting of his own, “it’s birdie-gege!”
Bai Yao’s shoulders are shaking from an uproarious laugh.
