Page 36 of From Beijing, With Love

Daniel squeezed his hand then, and Yang met those hazel eyes, filled with a stubborn sureness. A blind faith. Daniel looked so beautiful then, all the sharp angles of his face, that lingering smile and the closeness. And in this dark room, it was all his.

He thought about how it would feel to lean in and kiss Daniel, like he had kissed his best friend a decade ago and later pretended it was a joke. Boys didn’t kiss boys. Not where he was from.

The air hummed with an electric charge. Neither one of them moved, as if they both sensed the delicate balance that hung between them. Or perhaps they were just waiting for what was to come.

Back in those last days, his mom had told him to be brave. Maybe she knew he’d be motherless one day soon. Or maybe she knew, even back then, that he was different from the other boys.

Be brave.

Be brave.

Be brave.

Yang took one more leap. He bridged the gap between them and kissed Daniel.

CHAPTER SIXTEENDaniel

Daniel’s brain had always been a broken record of nonstop what-ifs—all the many, many ways that life could go wrong. But now the only thought playing on a loop in his head was that Yang had kissed him.

Yang.

Kissed.

Him.

Had Daniel’s lonely-monster brain dreamed up the whole thing? The neon-colored room, the heat in Yang’s dark eyes when he looked up at Daniel, the fleeting kiss that tasted like Aperol Spritz—the kiss that was over before it even began.

“Say something. Please?” Yang broke the charged silence, his voice laced with so much vulnerability it made Daniel’s heart ache.

He said the only thing he could think of. “You kissed me?”

“I … I’m so sorry.” Yang grimaced and backed away. Raking a hand through his jet-black hair like someone who’d just realized he’d fucked up, he turned to the door.

“Wait!” Daniel grabbed Yang’s hand, like he had on the first day they met, when this all started. That memory of the sun-filled hotel lobby seemed so very far away now.

Pulling Yang into his arms, Daniel felt every single conflict running through Yang’s head. His own brain was still unusually quiet. No what or why. No what-ifs. He held on, knowing with a rare certainty he was doing the right thing. He was giving Yang what he needed at that moment—assurance that everything was okay.

After a few seconds that seemed to stretch into an eternity, Yang let go of whatever fight was in his head and let his body surrender in Daniel’s arms.

They stood like that for a long while, with Yang’s head on Daniel’s shoulder. When they finally pulled apart, Daniel saw Yang more clearly than he ever had before—the beautiful contradictions of his face, the curves of his lips and the sharp lines of his jaw—and felt the air vibrate between them.

“That was a mistake,” Yang said, his voice a broken whisper.

Daniel cupped Yang’s face, bringing him close, then closer, until their lips were an inch apart. Close enough for Daniel to feel Yang’s rushed breaths on his lips. Close enough that Daniel was sure Yang could hear the rattle of his heart against his rib cage. He was giving Yang the choice: Kiss him again or show him that the last time was a mistake. And whatever Yang chose, he’d believe him. He would count to three.

One.

Two.

Two and a half.

Yang bridged the space between them and met Daniel with his lips. Even though Daniel had all but begged for it, it still came as a shock, an electric jolt that ran down his spine vertebra by vertebra, settling as a pool of heat in his stomach. Daniel gripped the collar of Yang’s linen shirt and drew him closer, sinking into the kiss.

The kiss wasn’t gentle or careful, nor was it forceful. It felt like a necessity, one that was long overdue. It had been inevitable, Daniel realized, the moment Yang came to his rescue at Tiananmen Square.

Emboldened by the realization, he pushed Yang down onto the leather sofa. With one hand braced against the tufted leather, the button sinking into his palm, and the other hand holding Yang’s face, he kissed Yang harder, deeper.

Yang let out a groan of dissatisfaction when Daniel eventually pulled away. It made him smile.