Let Me Ruffle Your Fur a Little

After the feet is treated, Bai Yao starts wiping the water on the leg and up, when he suddenly stops.

There is a clear scratch on Mu Mu’er’s right kneecap with heavy bruising that is still bleeding a little.

“Fell on ground…” Mu Mu’er explains, “it did not hurt. Mu’er climbed up, and blew on it, and it did not hurt.”

He says, still sitting there with his hands full of bubbles from the body wash on his thighs.

“… Yaoyao, can you, also blow on it?” The voice is almost too meek to hear. Mu Mu’er’s ears are flashing pink.

It’s rare for Mu Mu’er to ask for affectionate gestures in their months of cohabitation. Whenever Mu’er was sad or stressed, he tends to rely on himself instead. He can cheer himself up in no time.

It was very hard work for him to run back home, though, so he doesn’t want to cheer himself up, but Bai Yao instead.

Mu Mu’er’s face flushes red after he says it, though, and his eyes glaze over watching the soap bubble in his hand.

Bai Yao, in contrast, is feeling immense pain and regret. He is too painful to speak, and so, still crouching, he takes Mu Mu’er’s hand, to impart some bubbles on the chest. They both smell of citrus lemon now.

The little act consoles Mu Mu’er fully – the boy is not greedy, and he is happy when he sees Bai Yao is also happy to see him.

The fall and scratch is less severe than it looks. The bleeding is slow, so Bai Yao also only needs to apply iodophor and a band-aid.

Still, having treated the wounds, Bai Yao refrains from giving Mu Mu’er a hot shower despite being drenched earlier. Instead, he soaks a towel in warm water, and twists it before using it to wipe the boy’s cold body instead, hoping it’d help warm his core up a little.

With his wounds not as painful and his body now cleaned, Mu Mu’er begins to nod off. He yawns, and looks straight at the bedroom bed from the bathroom door.

“It’s late! Time to sleep,” Mu Mu’er declares before Bai Yao even says anything.

Bai Yao is going to carry Mu Mu’er to the bed given his feet, but while retrieving pyjamas for him, the boy has already decided to run for the bed himself despite Bai Yao calling out to him.

The blanket is exactly as Bai Yao left it when he went outside to the living room, so Mu Mu’er heads over with determination, and rolls himself inside like a puppy.

The towel is still there, too, and when Bai Yao comes over with pyjamas, the boy sinks his head further in the towel, pretending he’s not there.

Bai Yao wants to tell him to be careful of his wounds, but Mu Mu’er has already rolled himself into a ball with an extra hand – a hand for Bai Yao to hold.

His hand grabs Bai Yao’s entire arm and ‘confiscates’ it for his sleep, wrapping his body about it. Bai Yao uses his other hand to help set the blanket and feel the boy’s hair, relieved that it’s now dry enough.

The clock is moments away from striking five, and Mu Mu’er is terribly tired already. Mumbling incoherently, he falls asleep less than a minute later.

Incoherent as it is, the few syllables could only have been a heavily muffled ‘good night, Yaoyao.’

Bai Yao himself moves onto the bed, and lies down next to the boy. He continues stroking the boy gently on the back with expert, well-practised technique with his other hand.

Although he’s stayed up all night, Bai Yao is not sleepy at all. He continues looking at the boy lying by his side.

“How were you not scared?” Asks Bai Yao in a whisper. His fingertips on Bai Yao’s back are quivering a little.

The stormy weather has persisted through the entire episode. The raindrops still striking the gravel outside ferociously, the branches still occasionally smashing towards the windows at the behest of the gale.

Bai Yao still clearly remembers what happened last time the weather was like this. Mu Mu’er was shaking uncontrollably from the thunder and the uproarious wind. He hid in the tiny space between the wall and the wardrobe, and he had to transform into his original snow leopard form to calm him down.

This time…
He ran through a dark, stormy night just to look for him.

Most inns and lodgings in Qiaohai are in the south of town, nearby the market and train station, but very far from Bai Yao’s restaurant. He came all this way through the rain and lightning because he remembers he has to come home tonight.

Bai Yao carefully nudges Mu Mu’er into his embrace through his arm. Then his lips make a tiny contact with the boy’s forehead.

He then places his jaw onto Mu’er’s head, and whispers, “my dear boy. Can you not leave me this time? What will I ever do when you’re gone?”

Mu Mu’er is too soundly asleep to hear, but he does subconsciously snuggle closer some more, trying to bury his face in the man’s chest.

Bai Yao, meanwhile, is observing Mu Mu’er’s slightly curly eyelashes that reminds him of a cicada’s wings.

He can’t help but think about how great it’d be, if he can call this good little boy his own.

Even if he cannot, he still wants to remember everything about him, etch them into his memory. His eyelashes, his face, his hair, and… his lips.

Slowly, Bai Yao leans forward a little more, as if possessed. He gulps, and his breathing almost stops. However, the moment the lips are about to meet, a car’s engine pierces through the rain outside.

Lights flash through his window for a brief second, lighting up the dark room for a moment. The sound of the wheel grinding against the gravel is much more difficult to discern from the rain.

Bai Yao snaps awake. What in the world was he trying to do…

His sharp hearing then picks up the sound of a car door opening as the rain lets up. Bai Yao’s expression starts to turn cold as he thinks about what’s happening right now.

Then Bai Yao plants that kiss down on Mu Mu’er’s hand instead. It’s as soft as the whisper that follows, “I’ll be back soon.”

After this, Bai Yao let’s Mu Mu’er’s hand go and heads downstairs.