For the next half month, Cohen and Bardle maintained contact online, though it was just a few messages back and forth, sharing snippets of their daily lives.
They were no longer strangers, but it wasn't exactly ambiguous either.
On Christmas Eve, Kerry returned from work to the hot spring resort and went to Cohen's room.
"We're spending New Year's in B City this year," he told him.
Cohen, sitting on the carpet drawing, didn't look up.
"Mhm."
"The flight's the day after tomorrow. I'll have my assistant pick you up. It's colder in B City than here, wear thicker clothes."
"Mhm."
Kerry sat on the sofa and pressed down a stray lock of hair sticking up from Cohen's head.
"Not happy?"
Cohen's mouth turned down at the corners.
"Don't know."
"You don't know if you're happy or not?"
"Don't know what Bardle feels about me."
Kerry's face darkened.
"You're in contact with him?"
Cohen opened WeChat, scrolling through the rather mundane chat history.
"It's pretty much like any ordinary online friend."
"But he told me to come back to B City."
A vein twitched at Kerry's temple.
"And after you're back?"
Cohen shook his head.
"Don't know."
Bardle hadn't made any promises.
Kerry patted his head lightly.
"You and your stubborn temper. I've already laid out the reality for you clearly, and you still insist on running headfirst into the wall."
Cohen looked up, his gaze firm.
"I've already backed down once before."
At sixteen, an age where he understood nothing, he had first laid eyes on the dazzling Bardle and found himself captivated.
When he was eighteen, he had finally mustered the courage to confess his feelings, but then he heard Bardle say: "Homophobic. Do not disturb."
He hadn't been brave enough back then.
Those four words forced him to retreat, burying his feelings, and he came to Y City.
Now, five years later, seeing Bardle again, the desire in his heart was almost unbearable.
Moreover, Bardle knew how he felt and hadn't shown any disgust.
He thought, he needed to be brave one more time.
Even if the result wasn't what he wished for, at least he would have no regrets.
Kerry sighed.
"Alright then. Do what you want to do. Your brother's got your back, even from afar."
Cohen's eyes curved into smiles.
"Bro, you're the best."
"Hmph, just don't cry when you get rejected."
"I won't cry."
Kerry glanced at the time and stood up.
"It's late, time for bed. I'm heading out."
"Mhm, bye."
After seeing his brother out, Cohen finished his nightly routine, lay prone on the bed, and called Bardle for the first time.
The other end picked up quickly, his voice sounding somewhat tired.
"Hey..."
Cohen put the phone on the pillow, propping his face in his hands.
"What are you doing?"
"Working overtime."
"Oh, then I'll let you get back to it."
He hung up immediately.
B City, a private villa.
The study was brightly lit.
Bardle looked at his phone, which had been hung up on again, and laughed.
Leaning back in his chair, he called back.
"Hey..."
"Cohen, can you fix this habit of hanging up on people whenever you feel like it?"
Cohen's eyes curved.
"Weren't you busy?"
Bardle was amused.
"I have time to take a call."
"Oh..."
"What made you think to call me all of a sudden?"
Cohen licked his slightly dry lips and called softly, "Bardle."
"Mhm."
"Do you want to see me?"
Bardle was stunned for two seconds.
"Are you back?"
"Do you want to see me?"
He teased, smiling, "What if I said no?"
After a moment of silence, Cohen said, muffled, "But I want to see you..."
For an instant, Bardle's heart skipped a beat.
A feeling he'd never experienced before, something indescribable, slowly began to twine around his heart.
Cohen asked again, "Bardle, do you like boys now?"
"I..."
"If you like boys now, and you kinda want to see me... then I'll come back to B City to chase you."
Bardle felt as if he could hear the violent beating of his own heart.
His Adam's apple moved slightly.
"Cohen," he said, his hoarse voice carrying a hint of temptation, "Come."
It was like fireworks exploding in his mind, so brilliant Cohen's eyes stung slightly.
He clutched the pillow tightly and made a demand.
"I want you to pick me up at the airport."
"Send me the flight number."
"Okay."
Seeing it was almost midnight, Bardle found he had no heart for work anymore.
"It's very late. Shouldn't you be asleep?"
Cohen turned over and pulled up the covers.
"Mhm, I'm going to sleep."
"Sleep then. Good night."
"You should rest early too. Good night."
After the call ended, Bardle went to his bedroom.
Just after his shower, he saw a message from Cohen sent five minutes ago: the flight number.
Arriving at the airport tomorrow night at 8 PM.
He smiled, replied with an OK gesture, and after lying down, found himself feeling an indescribable nervousness and anticipation.
*
B City was indeed much colder than Y City, especially at night, the chill was biting.
The flight was delayed half an hour.
Cohen finally landed at 8:30 PM.
Dressed in a white long down jacket, a scarf wrapped snugly around him, he was dragging a small 20-inch suitcase.
Once out, he turned his phone on.
Several messages popped up, all from Kerry.
He ignored them and opened the chat with Bardle.
It was too cold; his fingers were stiff.
So he sent a voice message: "Did you come to pick me up?"
Bardle replied instantly: "Look up."
Cohen did as told.
Not far away, Bardle stood there, wearing a turtleneck sweater and a black long coat.
His tall build and striking looks made him stand out from the crowd.
He smiled and waved.
Cohen's nose tingled with emotion.
He walked over slowly.
As soon as he got close, Bardle put his phone away, naturally took his suitcase, and put an arm around his shoulders, guiding him outward.
"Cold?"
Cohen tilted his head back slightly, looking at the man from the side.
"Cold."
Bardle looked down, saw his exposed hand, slightly purple from the cold, and frowned slightly.
"Put your hands in your pockets."
Cohen shoved one hand into his own down jacket pocket, and the other into Bardle's coat pocket, fiddling with the car keys inside.
He blinked his bright eyes.
Bardle curved his lips into a teasing smile.
"So forward."
Cohen wasn't watching where he was going, just looking at him.
"I've come all this way to chase my man. Why should I be reserved?"
"Tsk..."
This direct hit caught him off guard.
He put on a stern face.
"Who's your man?"
Cohen averted his gaze.
"Oh. Not yet."
Hopefully soon, he thought.
It was even colder outside.
Bardle first bundled Cohen into the passenger seat, put the suitcase in the trunk, got in the car, started the engine, and left the airport.
"How about I take you for some hot soup first?"
Bardle suggested.
Cohen was looking down, replying to his brother.
"Mhm."
Beep beep beep...
The next second, Kerry's call came through.
"Bro..."
His brother sounded frantic.
"Where did you go?"
Cohen stated plainly, "I'm in B City."
"You... you! I said tomorrow!"
He glanced sideways at the driver.
"But I wanted to see Bardle sooner."
Bardle nearly lost control of the steering wheel.
Damn, that's way too direct!
How am I supposed to handle this?
Kerry felt a pain in his chest, breath caught, but there was nothing he could do.
He asked through gritted teeth, "Did you bring enough clothes?"
"I'll buy more."
He'd left in too much of a hurry, only bringing a few undergarments.
The only warm clothes were the ones he was wearing.
"Find a decent hotel. Keep warm."
"I know."
"Did you just land? Go get something to eat first, something hot."
"Mhm..."
They happened to hit a red light.
Bardle stopped the car, reached over for Cohen's phone.
"I'll look after him," he said into the phone.
Kerry fell silent, unsure what to say.
Finally, he forced out through clenched teeth, "I'm really causing you trouble."
"No trouble at all. I'm happy to."
Damn, I want to curse.
Even though it was his own brother who made the first move, it still felt heartbreaking, like watching a prized cabbage you've carefully nurtured get dug up by some pig!