AB Chapter 23: The Past and the Present
That day, they stood at the doorway, holding each other for a long time.
Long enough for the cool air slipping through the door crack to chill their bodies.
Long enough for their kisses to leave their heads spinning and their bodies trembling.
Both Michel and Simon were restraining themselves, unwilling to cross the line, yet reluctant to let go.
Lying in bed later, both of them looked pale, still in that damned overly excited, on-the-edge state, waiting for the fire in their hearts to fade.
Simon, face dark, had his hand resting on Michel's neck as the latter slept on top of him.
“I regret it,” came the deep male voice.
Michel hummed, shifted to his side to reduce skin contact with the too-hot man beneath him. His body was like dry grass about to catch fire.
It was too much. If this went on, he’d stay hard all night and no one would get any sleep.
“I shouldn’t have said that a kiss wouldn’t change anything... sigh.”
The regretful sigh of the big bumblebee came from above. Michel couldn’t help but laugh.
Mr. Bumblebee growled like an irritated lion and buried his nose in the little red flower blooming on Michel’s head. The tiny flower, about thumb-sized, slapped around at his nose, petals hooking on like it was biting.
“It even smells good now... Baby, let’s go to the hospital again, okay?” If the doctor confirmed Michel’s flower-body had stabilized, he could finally “pollinate” and taste that nectar!
“Mmm, alright.” Michel had wanted to go today anyway, just hadn’t managed to. He shrank his neck at the ticklish sensation. “Otherwise, why don’t one of us sleep in the bed, and the other on the floor tonight?”
Mr. Bumblebee immediately tightened his hold on the thin young man in his arms, rubbing his nose into the flower.
“No!”
“But...”
Michel laughed, bent his leg, and nudged a certain part of the man.
“Dear sir, you’ve been flipping between soft and hard for ages. How long do you want to keep this up? I might not have class until tomorrow afternoon, but didn’t you say you wanted to go to the hospital? There won’t be enough time if we don’t sleep.”
Simon didn’t want to respond.
“Hmm? Simon?”
“I can make it go down...”
“Oh~ really?”
“Probably...”
“Hahaha—”
In the end, Mr. Bumblebee’s bold words were proven wrong at 4 a.m.
Seeing Simon crawl off the bed with a dark face, put Michel back under the covers, and wrap himself in a blanket on the floor with the AC on, Michel laughed so hard his shoulders shook.
He got up, rummaged through the bottom of his nightstand, and pulled out a pack of cigarettes and a lighter, handing them to Simon.
“Maybe try this instead. It’s been sitting here for a while though—don’t know if it’s still good.”
Simon, who had read about cigarettes in those human knowledge books, looked surprised. “Baby, you smoke?”
“I do.”
Michel sat on the edge of the bed, arms braced behind him, face still smiling as he looked up at the ceiling.
Maybe because he was in a good mood, he opened up to Simon:
“I actually started pretty early, but didn’t smoke much.
After leaving the orphanage and living alone, I had to make money to survive. Every day before dawn, I’d get up and fold pizza boxes for shops that didn’t want to hire workers. Then I’d rush off to school after grabbing a bite of bread and water. After class, I’d head to a Chinese restaurant in Chinatown.
Nobody wants child labor, but that boss thought I was a Chinese orphan, so he secretly let me wash vegetables in the back. Weekly pay—pretty generous. By the time I got home, I was so tired I couldn’t even drink water...
And the loneliness was endless.
What did it feel like? It was like sitting alone in a room, even with the TV on and scrolling your phone, and still feeling silence. Even the neighbors arguing next door felt kind of warm and comforting.”
“That’s when I learned to smoke and drink. By 17, I was going through a pack a day.”
The pale, black-haired youth held up one finger, looking at the man sitting on the floor with a smile tinged with memory and release.
“Thinking back, I actually had a bad temper too.” Michel spoke softly: “For those kids who didn’t get adopted, the orphanage only wanted to keep them until around fourteen or fifteen. Staying longer just meant being disliked and judged. Aunt Molly and Benny’s parents wanted to adopt me, but I refused.”
“I was afraid that over time, life would wear down their love for me.”
“Their care meant too much to me. I didn’t want to fight one day and cause them trouble. So I took the government aid money and rented this apartment to live on my own.”
“I don’t know why I was so prideful and stubborn then... like a needle always pricking others.”
Michel sighed faintly, exhaling his emotions, and smiled again.
The atmosphere around him—his whole room—felt like an old countryside oil painting. Just looking at it brought a quiet peace to the heart, stirring deep emotions.
Simon couldn’t bear it halfway through. His heart felt crushed and trampled. He pulled the young man sitting on the bed into his arms, turned around, and pressed his chest against Michel’s back.
Lowering his shoulder, he enveloped him tightly.
Simon closed his red eyes, burying part of his face in Michel’s hair, his voice hoarse:
“It’s my fault... I lost you... You shouldn’t have gone through all that... It’s my fault...”
“It’s not your fault.”
Michel could feel the man behind him trembling, his breathing uneven with emotion. He reached back to pat the big guy’s head.
“It’s the fault of those trafficking gangs. But they’ve already been caught by Aunt Molly and the others. Under interstellar law, trafficking beings from other planets is a capital crime—they were sentenced to death.”
Vengeance had already been taken.
He didn’t have time to resent the dead.
“I’m telling you this, not to make you sad,” Michel softened his voice to comfort the guilt-ridden Simon. “I just want you to know, I’m not some innocent, well-behaved good boy or upright young man like you imagine.”
“When Aunt Molly told me I was a kidnapped child, I stood at the orphanage gate every day, waiting for my real family to come for me. I dreamed they’d embrace me, take me home, and tell me how much they missed me, how long they’d been searching…”
“Baby...”
“After I left the orphanage, I stopped hoping. There are so many missing and abandoned kids in the world, and only a few ever reunite with their families.”
“…”
“So I gave up. I lived. I struggled. I became another sad story churned out by the system... Until one day—you came.”
“…”
Michel’s eyes were bright. In his black pupils, even a tiny bit of light could reflect a sky full of stars.
Simon heard the joy in his tone, and the mix of sadness and accumulated love nearly choked him.
Michel said: “The way you showed up was strange—far from what I imagined a family reunion would be. I was scared, resistant, and also excited. I feared you might be my family, and I hoped you were my family.”
He broke free of Simon’s arms, turned around, and cupped the face of the big guy on the verge of tears.
His brownish-yellow eyes reflected Michel’s face.
“Even though we’re not parent and child, but rather... um, destined partners? You’re honestly even better than the family I imagined!”
Michel said seriously:
“Thank you for coming to find me, Simon! Thank you! Reuniting with family was my dream, and you made it come true.”
Simon hummed lowly, lowering his eyes.
Even with Michel saying this, he still felt he hadn’t done enough.
They sat in silence, leaning on each other for a while.
Eventually, Michel patted his arm, smiled, and pointed to himself, then to Simon. “We’ve calmed down now. Let’s go back to bed—this floor’s way too hard.”
Simon followed him wordlessly back into bed, one arm still wrapped around Michel’s shoulders.
As he was about to fall asleep under the blanket—
He heard Mr. Bumblebee murmur in the room:
“I won’t let you be alone ever again.”
“Mhm, I know.”
I believe you.
Dear Mr. Bumblebee.
[Author’s Note]:
[Mini Theater]
Michel: Happiness is when you both love each other.
Simon: Mhm!
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