Russian Roulette
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Fei Long/Mikhail
Spoilers: NT
Summary: Nightmares from the past are still hunting Fei Long and even after spending the night with Mikhail, their relationship is anything but clear. Will one sunny day in Macao change this? Sequel to Typhoon.
I know it took me horribly long to upload this and I humbly apologize.
Thanks a lot angel0399 for the beta job!
The revolver felt cold and heavy in his hand, pressing against his temple, disturbing and impossible to ignore. He swallowed hard and closed his eyes. Though he could control his facial expressions and his gestures, he found himself unable to suppress his instincts that betrayed him in this very moment.
He felt a cold sweat covering his body and the powerful beating of his racing heart.
There was no way out, no possibility to escape.
And as he drew in what might be his last breath, his chest rose and images began to flash in front of his eyes.
Not of his family and friends, as it would have been the case with other people.
First he saw a man with black hair, very tall for an Asian, wearing a fierce and ice cold expression. He had eyes that never showed any emotion if he didn’t wish for it, and a face that made one hold their breath, as Fei Long was doing.
Then the vivid face of a young man appeared, radiating exactly the opposite of what he’d just seen. He was Japanese, just like his older lover, and had a face with an almost childlike naivety, and a body that had given in so willingly to Fei Long’s hands; it was so smooth, as if made out of wax.
And not least, a face so very different from the ones before. Steel-blue, piercing eyes showed no less determination than those of Asami Ryuichi, but were able to assume a gentle, almost soft tenderness that the Japanese man completely lacked. Their expression showed so many facets that it seemed impossible to Fei Long to absorb all of them completely. The face was framed by golden curls which, as Fei Long knew now, felt incredibly soft to the touch and gave his impressive appearance a youthful vitality.
Finally, this was the face that remained in front of his eyes, as he, now that his last breath was drawn and his lungs filled to the point of bursting, crooked his finger and pulled the trigger, not knowing if there would be a tomorrow. Or if he would ever see the face again that made this fateful movement so much easier.
A loud shot ripped the air.
…
Fei Long awoke in his bed covered in sweat, gasping for air, while his confused consciousness was slowly returning to reality.
He had only been dreaming.
The dream was over, but still the memory of it was sending waves of cold horror through his body. He had been sure that he had left the demons of the past behind. However, there were certain moments, like when he was asleep and out of control, when they emerged to torture him.
But that was not all.
It had been two months since that eventful night when the first typhoon of the season had passed over Hong Kong and Mikhail had spent the night at his place-and with him.
He had thought himself to be stronger. He had thought he would be able to let the matter rest, to be able to let the solid walls that usually surrounded him down for just one night, without having to regret it afterwards.
But, as much as he hated it, he had to admit he was thinking about that night a lot more than he wanted to, and-- even worse-- longing for it, for the rough and forceful hands on his damp skin, the passionate mouth conquering him, and… and…
Fei Long shivered as a sudden wave of heat took hold of him when he remembered the hot and hard organ that had pushed into him, had marked him and had made him moan with feverish pleasure.
Damn it!
He had thought he would be able to dismiss it as a faux pas, a nonrecurring mistake, because even in the moments of greatest pleasure he had sensed that he would consider the whole story as such.
But he didn’t know himself well, in fact, not at all.
Arbatov had not even stayed for breakfast. When they’d woken up the next morning it had been quite late already and the typhoon had lost all of its strength, so he didn’t have another excuse to stay.
Except that if Fei Long would have asked him for it. When they had parted in a rather formal manner, something had flashed up in Mikhail’s eyes that had made Fei Long think he was waiting for something of the kind. But not a word had passed his lips.
Now here he was again, in his huge apartment, like before-a workaholic, who didn’t allow himself a minute of rest, in order to avoid any kind of thinking. It was the same state as before, the impossibility to admit he was lacking something. And that this something had possibly just slipped through his fingers.
Only at night, in his dreams, he couldn’t avoid it. When he was completely and helplessly at the mercy of his sub-consciousness and everything that had been hidden deep beneath his thoughts came back to the surface.
Like just now, when he had dreamed of Russian roulette.
Many years ago, when he had been younger and unable to conceive the value of his own life, he had once played this game. He recalled the night back to his memory once in a while and couldn’t help but realize that his present life started to resemble this game more and more-- always, everything was at stake, life or death, nothing in between. Pulling the trigger and waiting for the outcome.
He rose from his bed, still slightly shaking. It was a hot and humid night, but that wasn’t the only reason he was covered in sweat. Since he didn’t like air condition, he only turned it on when it was inevitable. Now he also decided against it, instead he walked into the living room and dropped onto the sofa in front of his television, only wearing his underpants. He took a sheet of paper from the coffee table to fan himself, while he tried to chase away the horrors of the preceding dream that had appeared so real.
Why had it been Mikhail Arbatov’s face that he had seen in the moment before his supposed death? He refrained from searching an answer to this question.
Since the night they had spent together, he had not seen the Russian again and had avoided thinking of him. But now the memory overwhelmed him with an incredible intensity.
Damn, it can’t continue like this.
He starred outside the huge window at the skyline of Kowloon that was veiled by a faint layer of mist. Dawn was already breaking and he knew that he wouldn’t get any more sleep tonight.
…
Macao
Every morning right after getting up, Mikhail Arbatov took half an hour to swim several laps in his private outdoor pool. He didn’t only do this as a workout, but mostly to clear his mind. There wasn’t anything more meditative and purifying than gliding through the fresh water and feeling his muscles tense with every movement. After swimming a few laps he usually emerged from the water fresh and full of energy, ready for whatever the day would bring.
During the last couple of weeks, however, not even this had allowed him to find inner peace. On the contrary, the thoughts running through his head totally deprived him of any vitality.
The back and forth… the pros and cons.
Plus the permanent consciousness that he had been so close to his object of desire- only to have it slip through his fingers again. And the more he was thinking about it, the more he came to the conclusion that all his hope was empty and in vain.
A one-night stand, nothing unusual nowadays. As much as he had been trying to convince himself of it, as much as he was looking for signs and hints that it had been more to Fei Long than the mere soothing of his mental pain, he still had to admit that this didn’t seem very likely.
Unfortunately, he wasn’t like Fei Long, who was spurred by thoughts of that kind and driven into an almost fanatical enthusiasm for his work. Instead, they paralyzed him and took all of his strength.
The first few days after their night together he had barely managed to work at all and neglected many important projects for much too long. Now he was finally ready to concentrate at least partially on the most important things.
But it wasn’t easy by far.
Right now his arms were pushing through the water, making him glide through it and feel his own power. It felt good since the humid heat of the night had deprived him of any sleep. It revived the spirits that were still slumbering inside of him and cleaned him at least superficially.
He let himself float through the water for a moment until he reached the edge of the pool and closed his eyes, felt his wet hair float on the small waves he had caused himself that washed an occasional strand into his face.
Today will be good, he continued to tell himself. Today would be different from the days before, which had been dominated by endless and senseless pondering. Today he would tackle everything he had neglected and get things back under his control again.
At that moment, he noticed something in the corner of his eyes, a vague movement on the edge of the pool. When he twisted his head, he saw that it was one of his servants who was apparently trying to attract his attention. He went over and asked him in Cantonese. “What’s wrong? You know I don’t want to be disturbed while I’m swimming.”
“Yes, I know, but…” The young man swallowed nervously; it was obvious that he was just facing an unsolvable conflict. “There’s a call for you, Mr. Arbatov.”
“You also know that goes for everything, even for calls.”
“But it’s important, Sir.”
Mikhail sighed, slightly annoyed. What about it was so hard to understand?
“Who says it’s important?”
“Mr. Liu of Baishe, Sir, he said it’s incredibly important and he has to talk to you as soon as possible. He said it wouldn’t permit any delay. That’s why I thought…”
“Mr. Liu? Liu Fei Long?”
“Yes, exactly, Sir.”
“Alright. I’m coming.”
Frowning, he looked after his servant who hurried back to the house and heaved himself out of the water. What was it that Fei Long needed to discuss so urgently? They didn’t have any business at the moment because Fei Long had broken off all negotiations between them after the incident with Asami. That was also the reason why he had stated that Mikhail had misused his trust-- he was probably right about that.
After drying himself quickly with his towel, he wrapped it around his hips and hurried towards the house, where his servant handed over the phone.
“Hello?”
“Mikhail, it’s me.”
“I was told so. What is important enough to make me interrupt my morning swim session?“
“I don’t like waiting.”
Mikhail felt a slight surge of anger taking hold of him. Of course, if Liu Fei Long felt some kind of desire, it had to be satisfied immediately, regardless of the damage-- just like that night. Fei Long had been alone and desperate, looking for support and affection, and Mikhail had been stupid enough to provide him with both, without thinking about the consequences.
“What is this about, then?” he asked coolly.
“I don’t really want to discuss this on the phone, I’d rather do it personally. What about us meeting for lunch?”
“Alright.”
He felt like biting off his tongue. In fact, he had an appointment, an important one at that. It was possible to suspend it, of course, but for what? For a new surge of emotion from Fei Long, another one of his fixed ideas, his amusements? It couldn’t have been more than that, since they didn’t entertain business relations any more. Which meant this had to be something personal. Mikhail was only too aware of how unresistingly he was dancing to Fei Long’s tune.
“Let’s meet at the ruins of the Sao Paulo church.” The Chinese man suggested. “I don’t feel like going to one of these fancy, formal restaurants and making a big appearance. I’d prefer something modest…”
“You know I’m not very fond of the Cantonese cuisine.” Mikhail interrupted him.
“Don’t worry, I am aware of that.” Fei Long replied, obviously amused. “That’s why I was thinking, in remembrance of Macao’s former occupiers, we could have some European Mediterranean food.”
Mikhail sighed. “Well then. When are we meeting?”
“One o’clock. Sharp.”
And before the Russian even had the opportunity of saying anything else, Fei Long had hung up on him.
…
It was a wonderful day, with a dazzling blue sky and a faint breeze coming from the sea. Even though the hot and humid summer was already on its way, it still spared them the most merciless temperatures. Mikhail was wearing a light linen shirt, pants and sunglasses, which helped as he looked for his lunch acquaintance. He enjoyed the fresh air that was playing slightly with the fabric that covered his heated skin, which wasn’t exactly cooled down by the fact that he was about to meet Fei Long in a few minutes.
It was hard to locate him in the crowd. Once in a while Mikhail saw thick, jet-black hair flashing up somewhere, just to realize, upon coming closer, that they actually belonged to some young woman and didn’t have the same shimmer as the Chinese man’s. Oh, how he longed to feel it in his fingers again! But he would hardly be so lucky this time. As poorly as he knew Fei Long, he still was sure that the purpose of their meeting wasn’t to repeat their “mistake”, as he certainly considered it.
Whatever intentions he really had, Mikhail didn’t have any choice but to be patient about and find out.
“Boo!” The sudden sound came loudly from behind him and almost made him trip over one of the steps he was just walking up. He couldn’t remember ever jumping out of his skin the same way. Struggling to regain his composure, he turned around and caught sight of Fei Long who was totally different from what he had experienced so far. He had gotten to know many versions-- proud, sophisticated, desperate, busy, sensual, aroused, but this one was new; Fei Long was guffawing like a child that had succeeded in playing a trick on someone while throwing back his head, which made his long black braid sway slowly back and forth.
“I didn’t think it was that easy to scare you.”
Mikhail’s heart was still hammering from the shock, but it didn’t calm down at all when he examined the man in front of him. Fei Long had not lost any of his mesmerizing beauty and his amazing charisma during the time that had passed since their last encounter. He was also wearing light linen trousers and a blue shirt, the buttons at the top left carelessly open, golden skin flashing from beneath provokingly. Mikhail wondered if the Chinese man had the faintest idea of how he made his wildest desires flare up in an instant, mixed with the memories of the night they had spent together. Damn, this man was a walking torture, and he wondered what on Earth he had done wrong for having to endure it. Even though it was his own fault for agreeing to this meeting in the first place.
Fortunately he possessed enough self-control not to show his inner turmoil and had forced himself to answer.
“There are many sides of me that you don’t know yet. And I promise it’s worth to get to know every one of them.”
While he was speaking, he shot a promising and insistent glance at Fei Long that should’ve given him ideas of what they could share with each other. Fei Long, as he didn’t fail to notice, lowered his eyes.
“Before I explore the depths of your soul I’d rather go eat first. I had an unpleasant meeting this morning and I’m starving.”
Of course he was disappointed that Fei Long didn’t engage in his game, but on the other hand he hadn’t really expected him to, so he put on a happy face.
“Well then. I’ll follow you.”
Fei Long nodded and started to walk down the stairs.
“So, how have you been?” Fei Long asked while they were walking down the broad steps, away from the ruins.
Mikhail shrugged. “So-so. A lot of work.”
Was he just imagining it or did he feel Fei Long’s scrutinizing look on him as he answered the question? However, only seconds later his face went back to the usual mask, the eternal poker face. Did this man have any feelings at all? Had it been someone else lying in his arms that night, desperate and hurt, opening himself up to him? Damn, the man was as hard to read as a piece of ancient calligraphy, yet equally beautiful.
The restaurant wasn’t far away and the remaining way they spent talking about a mutual business associate who had married last week. Mikhail had not managed to come to his wedding, so Fei Long reported every detail about the ceremony-as if Mikhail was really interested. More so, it seemed it was done to avoid broaching the unspoken things between them.
It was a very small place, hidden somewhere in the narrow, winding alleys of Macao. Mikhail wondered how he had come across it, since it obviously wasn’t one of the high-class restaurants they were used to. When he stated the question, a smile stole across his lips.
“There are many sides of me that you don’t know yet, Mikhail.” he replied.
“But, unlike you, I don’t doubt that it’s worth getting to know them at all.” the Russian answered promptly.
Their eyes locked for a moment until Fei Long interrupted their contact by shaking his head slightly.
“How do you know so precisely what I think? What makes you believe that I think it’s not worth getting to know you?”
For the splint of a second the familiar desperation flashed up in his eyes, then he opened the door.
“Let’s go eat, Mikhail. We’ll talk later.”
So they would talk, after all. This expectation made Mikhail follow Fei Long’s intoxicating scent and enter the small restaurant.
“Liu Fei Long! I was beginning to think you’d never show up here again!”
As soon as Mikhail’s eyes had adjusted to the reduced brightness, he saw a short man with a mustache and a huge, round belly hurrying towards them.
“João Paolo!“ Fei Long replied in English, wearing a broad smile. “Your food is always going to bring me back here, so don’t expect to ever get rid of me!”
Mikhail almost felt jealous when he watched the two men joking and amicably patting their shoulders. Why did he seem to be so at ease with other people? He longed to get to know this cheerful, sociable man who wasn’t weighed down by his sorrows or caution.
The short Portuguese man assisted them to their table. They were quite late; most Chinese people had eaten lunch long ago, which made them almost the only guests in the whole place. Apart from the two of them, there was a couple sitting somewhere in the corner, but they were completely self-absorbed. The man who had greeted them handed them the menus and left them alone so they could make their choices.
“What do you recommend?” Mikhail asked, his eyes wandering over the different dishes.
“The fish is unsurpassed.” Fei Long replied, smiling. “If there’s something the Portuguese are good at, it’s preparing fish.”
“Então. May I take your order?”
When João Paolo returned to the table, Mikhail had done as told and chosen a fish dish. Fei Long ordered some wine along with the food and even though he had been planning to get some work done later today, Mikhail didn’t protest.
“Well, now, I suppose, you want to know how I came across this restaurant, am I right?” Fei Long asked with a smile after João Paolo had left.
Mikhail frowned slightly. Was he that obvious? In fact, he had been thinking about this question ever since they’d entered the place.
“Frankly, yes.”
“When I was still a very young boy I once got lost in Macao. My watchdog was distracted for a second and whoosh, I was gone.”
Mikhail couldn’t suppress a broad smile when he thought of Fei Long as a kid. Surely he had been incredibly cute.
“First I thought I could easily find my way back,” he continued. “But then everything started to look the same. I was getting more and more desperate, the further I went. And when I was at my wit’s end, I started to cry. Coincidentally, I’d found myself here, in front of this restaurant. João Paolo, who was still a lot slimmer at that time, picked me up. He’d comforted me and stuffed me with Pasteis de nata while trying to find out where I came from. Fortunately he speaks a bit of Cantonese, because at that time I wasn’t even able to speak any English. He has been living in Macao all his life, since his father used to work for the Portuguese administration. He’d went to a Portuguese school, though, so he was never really forced to learn the ‘native’s tongue’. Anyway, he’d managed to squeeze out enough information to find out my address and to contact my father. When they’d found me they were terribly angry and I got a good thrashing at home. I never ran away again after that. They’d wanted to give a huge sum to João Paolo for finding me, but he didn’t want to hear about it and didn’t accept any of the money.
When I was sixteen I was in Macao once when the whole story came back to me. My memory had led me back here and I knocked on the door, not knowing if the previous owner would be still here, not even fully sure if he had ever existed. But when he’d opened the door I was immediately convinced it was him, and he had recognized me within seconds. ‘You’re the boy that got lost here, aren’t you!’ he shouted. Seriously. Even though I had grown quite a bit since that time, believe me. I have been visiting him from time to time ever since. And I always have to fight to pay the bill.”
Mikhail had not taken his eyes from him one second while he was talking. He just listened, entranced, taking in the story that he felt not many people had heard before, if anybody at all. At the same time he felt it was a sign of trust and a certain amount of intimacy, that he had taken him to this place that apparently meant a lot to him.
After Fei Long had ended, he nodded slowly.
“Sometimes there are occurrences that almost make one believe in destiny, aren’t there?”
The Chinese smiled. “Oh, I firmly believe in destiny. You don’t?”
Mikhail raised an eyebrow. “No, because in that case destiny would have an incredible weird sense of humor, along with blatant injustice. I prefer to believe that everything’s happening by coincidence and we can direct our so-called fate by ourselves; that we can control things. It matches a lot better with the concept I have for my life.”
“So you believe everything happens at random and without a higher meaning at all? How sad.”
“And you believe we’re all just at the mercy of some higher power that can control as it pleases? Even sadder.”
Fei Long wasn’t smiling anymore-- he seemed to be dead serious about the topic.
“So, according to you it’s a mere coincidence that we’ve met?”
Mikhail starred into the dark eyes, astonished by the question. Was there a chance that what happened between them meant something to him after all? When recalling that night-something he avoided to do because the mere thought of it almost drove him insane-he found it hard to believe that everything had happened was without a higher meaning.
“As I said,” he replied without taking his glance from the pair of deep, almond-shaped eyes. “There are occurrences-and encounters-that could almost make one believe in destiny.”
“Almost?”
Fei Long’s question came quite quietly, almost in a whisper, and again Mikhail sensed a hint of the desperation that had clouded him that night.
“I want to tell you something else.” Fei Long continued when Mikhail found himself unable to answer. “When I was still younger-a lot younger, reckless and stupid on top of that-I was hanging around in Kowloon Walled City a lot. Once I played a round of Russian roulette with a bunch of meddlers on a dare. The fact that I’m sitting here shows you the outcome. According to you, it’s a mere coincidence that I am alive. I have been thinking about it a lot, and to be honest I have noticed that I cannot bear that thought. I’d much rather believe that it was my fate to live-- that there’s a meaning behind it. That somebody-or something- wants me to live.”
Mikhail was still studying him closely while he was starting to understand what this was about. Fei Long was scared of the void that his imagination of coincidence suggested. He needed the comfort, the thought that everything was meant to be, that it had a deeper meaning. It gave him strength and eased his suffering.
“I understand.” he answered therefore. And in the look that he was given afterwards lay something he had never seen with Fei Long before-genuine gratitude.
Their conversation was interrupted by João Paolo who, at that moment, placed two plates in front of them, then beckoned one of the waiters to bring a bottle of wine and glasses. He uncorked the bottle, poured a tiny amount of wine into one glass and handed it to Fei Long for him to sample. When he approved with a nod, he poured in more for both of them.
“Enjoy your meal!” he rejoiced, then left the table.
Fortunately, they were able to abandon their talk during the whole procedure, but now they sat in awkward silence. However, Mikhail managed to successfully interrupt it by praising Fei Long’s tip with the fish, which he found excellent. Fei Long smiled a little and seemed to be a bit more relaxed than when they had arrived.
They fell into a casual conversation that they kept going throughout the entire meal. First they talked about plants and gardens, about the necessity of nature for their well-being and about the terrible pollution in China. The conversation then steered towards the precarious situation of the Hong Kong stock market, about family-- even though Fei Long quickly led away from this topic after a few general remarks-- and their favorite spots for travelling. They even discussed music and films. Mikhail went with the flow of the conversation, which was easier and more comfortable the longer it went, until they put down their knives and forks, satisfied and with a full stomach, still sipping on the remnants of wine. Mikhail had tried not to appear too impatient during the whole time-Fei Long would address the reason for their meeting sooner or later-- but he was enjoying himself. Fei Long revealed some rather personal facts about himself that the Russian collected like pieces of a puzzle in his head and put them together to a beautiful picture.
…
Fei Long patted his stomach, which Mikhail remembered too well to be firm and flat underneath his clothes, and sighed in agreement.
“It’s nice to eat in quiet once in a while. Most of the time just I shovel down something because I have to hurry to the next appointment.”
“And this afternoon you don’t have any more appointments that require your attendance?”
The Chinese shook his head. “No, I took off the rest of the day.”
Mikhail frowned in surprise. “That’s unusual.”
“It is indeed.”
He’d had the idea in the morning. After his nightmare and especially after the last couple of restless weeks, it had seemed like a good idea to allow himself a bit of peace for one day. Unfortunately he had business he couldn’t postpone earlier that morning, but for the rest, he had instructed his secretary to move them to another day.
Why he had then decided to spend his day off with Mikhail Arbatov was as incomprehensible to him as the strange feelings that took hold of him every time he was together with the man. But as much as it confused him, it still felt good to sit there with the Russian, to drink wine and to chat. So good that he didn’t really want to think about it. And that he was starting to tell him things he wouldn’t even tell to his psychologist.
“Well, what should we do with the rest of the day, Arbatov? Please don’t tell me you have an important meeting soon and have to run.”
Mikhail bit his lower lip. He actually had important matters to attend to, and he absolutely couldn’t afford to laze away the day with his former opponent. He’d have to pay dearly if he postponed all his business. But how could he resist such an offer-- a whole afternoon with Liu Fei Long after he’d been unsuccessfully trying to get near him for months? He shook his head reluctantly.
“No, actually I’m free for a change.”
Fei Long smiled at him provokingly and Mikhail realized in an instant that he had a very precise idea of how things stood with regard to his supposedly free afternoon. Still, he settled with it and didn’t make any further remarks.
“How about coffee?” He suggested instead.
Mikhail nodded and was about to beckon João Paolo when he suddenly felt Fei Long’s hand on his, an unexpected touch so full of promise it sent a shiver down his spine.
“Why don’t we move to Hong Kong for coffee. Actually I bought a new coffee machine I would like to try out.”
Even though Mikhail wasn’t sure what he could expect from that, it still made his heart beat considerably faster. He had never experienced this side of Fei Long-relaxed, tempting, challenging, all at the same time. He seemed to involve them both in some kind of subtle game, and Mikhail wasn’t quite sure what role he was playing. What did the Chinese mafia leader intend by suddenly letting him get that close after he had let him warm his bed only once, with extended claws and after endless back and forth?
He didn’t trust the peace, but he was fully aware of the fact that if he wanted more of Fei Long, he had no choice but to play his game.
“Sounds good. And how do we get there? Did you bring your helicopter?”
Fei Long chuckled. “No, not today. Once in a while I enjoy traveling like a civilian. What about taking the ferry?”
“Ferry?” Mikhail returned his gaze, slightly confused. Fei Long could easily see that he had never before taken a regular ferry from Macao to Hong Kong, let alone ever considered it. He couldn’t suppress an amused smile.
“Alright,” the Russian then replied and stood up determinedly. “Let’s take the ferry.”
As Fei Long had already predicted, João Paolo refused to let them have the bill. When he finally accepted that they would pay for their meal, a small fight erupted between the two men about who would do it. Mikhail had been in China long enough to adopt some of the local habits, and to make the biggest effort possible to take over the bill for a meal was one of them.
Fei Long still won. After they had bid farewell to their host, they stepped back onto the sunlit alleys they set off into the direction of the ferry terminal. According to Fei Long, it wasn’t too far away.
Mikhail enjoyed walking through the streets in silence and letting the sun warm his skin. Most of the times when he was going somewhere, he was surrounded by all kinds of henchmen and bodyguards; he rarely took the opportunity to go for a walk alone or with company-least of all just for pleasure. With Fei Long it probably was the same.
They didn’t talk a lot, but he felt that there was no need for it at the moment. Both of them were lost in thoughts and drifting through the crowd of people that had emerged due to the good weather. It took them almost half an hour to reach the harbor. Fei Long bought them two tickets and pressed one into Mikhail’s hand.
“Please, at least let me pay for that.”
“Oh, please, Arbatov. You should know that money’s nothing I’m short of.”
“It’s about the principle.”
“It’s about your pride that prevents you from letting yourself be invited like a woman on her first date. That’s what it is about.”
Mikhail had to admit he was right. Normally it was always him in control, making decisions and pulling the strings. But since he had met up with Fei Long, the latter had been in charge of everything, which he found confusing. Well, hard to get used to. But he decided to go along with it.
…
He quite enjoyed the crossing, the cool breeze, the water splashing against the boat and the tiny droplets that landed on his face. But most of all Fei Long next to him, especially the one time he lost his balance on the shaky surface and landed directly in his arms. Mikhail raised him up to his feet reluctantly while wondering if it could’ve been on purpose. When they finally reached Hong Kong, he almost felt a little disappointed. It had been his first time on a regular ferry, after all.
“And now, I assume, we queue up for the pass control like regular people?” He asked while they were walking up the swaying ramp.
“Exactly. You go over there to the queue for foreigners; residents should be a bit quicker.” He waved his ID. “See you later.”
With that, he was gone and Mikhail rolled his eyes when he lined up between middle-aged English tourists. Fei Long obviously seemed to enjoy behaving like a commoner, but he wasn’t really enjoying himself that much. What was all that money for if he couldn’t toss it out of the window? He had, however, enjoyed the ferry ride. He might have to amend his opinion.
His passport was stamped and he met a sneering Fei Long at the other end, who seemed to have waited for a while already.
“I was going to take the subway, but since you’re obviously having such a hard time I called my driver to pick us up here. Don’t worry, our little excursion into the world of the mortals is over. “
Mikhail couldn’t suppress a smile. “I would be willing to suffer so much more to have coffee with you.”
“Oh please, you sound like we were still in middle school.” Fei Long replied indignantly, while they were walking towards the terminal exit.
As he had promised, his limousine, including the driver, was waiting outside and Mikhail felt considerably more comfortable after they had gotten into the car and were gliding through the thick traffic. He couldn’t take his eyes from Fei Long, this new Fei Long, not the wounded, furious beast, but a gentle house cat, seemingly stretching out in the sun, waiting for somebody to ruffle its fur. The imagination made him smile in amusement.
Due to the busy traffic it took them some time to reach Baishe’s main building. Mikhail looked at the sumptuous building with mixed feelings-when he had entered it for the last time, it was all to get closer to Fei Long than ever before. What was waiting for him now?
Fei Long’s face appeared like that of a china doll- it didn’t reveal the slightest trace of emotion. His servants were waiting for them in the entrance hall and Fei Long barked some orders in Cantonese into their direction, whereupon most of them left the hall and only one remained to follow them when they climbed the chairs to the second floor.
They entered Fei Long’s private rooms. Without a doubt only few people had had the privilege to enter them before and Mikhail sincerely hoped that Asami Ryuichi wasn’t one of them. The thought to have at least this advantage over the man who had stolen Fei Long’s heart reassured him a little bit.
The Chinese lowered himself into one of the armchairs and instructed the servant to bring them coffee. Then he beckoned Mikhail to sit down in the chair next to him, which he did immediately.
“I didn’t think I would come back here.” He admitted.
“Life is full of surprises.” Fei Long replied plainly. “Or rather coincidences?”
“Oh dear, that is really bothering you, isn’t it?” Mikhail sighed. “Even if there’s no higher power controlling everything, we still have the power to make decisions. We have our consciousness and can decide for or against something. And you decided that you want me to be here.”
A smug smile appeared on the beautiful face. “But it’s of no importance at all if I give in to you because it doesn’t serve any higher purpose. If our paths separate or not is totally left to chance.”
“No, it’s left to our will.”
He looked at Fei Long directly while those words were spoken and met the look coming from those dark, almond-shaped eyes. As often before, he was almost blinded by his beauty in this moment. Some strands that had fallen out of his braid framed his majestic face and the golden skin was shining in the late afternoon sun that was seeping through the broad window.
And his gaze-it was warm and intense, so that Mikhail’s heart started to race immediately. This man couldn’t be real. Suddenly he felt tempted to start believing in destiny because he had the opportunity to be here with him.
Before he could reply anything, the door opened and another servant brought their coffee on a tray that he placed on the table in front of them. Fei Long acknowledged this with a quick nod.
“Thank you. From now on, we don’t wish to be disturbed anymore.”
The servant bowed and left the room.
“Milk and sugar?” Fei Long turned to Mikhail as soon as they were alone.
“I will help myself, thank you.”
He usually took his coffee black, sometimes with a shot of milk. Even though he kept a healthy diet, regularly worked out and refrained from taking addictive substances of any kind, not even painkillers, he still couldn’t abandon having several cups of coffee every day. The fresh scent wafted into his nose when he raised the cup to his mouth and took the first sip.
“Hm, not bad, your new machine.” He muttered appraisingly while he closed his eyes in approval.
Fei Long shot a satisfied glance at him. “So I was right with my assumption.”
“Which was?”
Mikhail raised his eyes and again met the breathtaking gaze of the man sitting next to him. The tension he had felt earlier immediately returned, and when they met each other’s eyes, the air between them seemed to crackle.
“That you are a man who values good quality.” The Chinese man answered quietly and didn’t lower his gaze, but kept it locked with Mikhail’s, piercing him with an unknown intensity. He started breathing considerably faster.
“Oh yes, I do indeed.”
He didn’t know what made him do what he did then. Maybe it had been the long wait, Fei Long’s both agonizing and exciting presence that he had been enduring for the entire afternoon, or his own uncontrollable libido, the magic of the moment, Fei Long’s unusual serenity… He rose with a jolt, putting the cup back on the coffee table. With a few steps he reached Fei Long’s chair, dropped down onto the armrest and pulled the beautiful Chinese man into a deep kiss. They both sighed when their lips met. Mikhail had to brace himself on the chair in order to not succumb to the dizziness that suddenly overcame him. It was like that night-- the same fire was still burning between them. He had not only imagined it.
Fei Long wrapped his arms around him and Mikhail gave in immediately; he leaned in closer and pressed his upper body into him. God, he wanted this man as he had never wanted anything before, he longed to hold him again like he had that night.
His hands rose to the nape of his neck, entangling with the thick black hair, breathing in the scent that he had missed so much. His tongue plunged deep into the other man’s mouth which opened up readily for him and they started playing the game they had played before-the subtle, affectionate fight for dominance, which still made Mikhail’s stomach flutter.
Incredulous about what had just happened, he pulled away to gasp for air and to look into the deep, almond-shaped eyes that looked and him slightly veiled and unreadable, as always. Fate or not-- in this very moment he thanked God, whom he wasn’t sure if he believed in, that he was allowed to touch this heavenly being.
“Fei,” he whispered, but then he wasn’t sure what he had actually wanted to say. He was lost in those dark eyes. Everything he wanted to do, everything he could do, was to press his lips onto Fei Long’s again. They looked moist, slightly swollen and inviting, and accepted him in a repetition of the passion they had just shared.
Mikhail moaned darkly into the second kiss and Fei Long returned it as vehemently as before. Silently begging that this moment would never end, he couldn’t prevent his hands from wandering down, searching for the firm muscles underneath the linen shirt, and caressing his body tenderly. He felt Fei Long shivering under his touch, then trembling, when Mikhail’s hands slid under the fabric and started to caress the soft and warm skin that was covered by goose bumps within seconds. Now it was Fei Long who broke the kiss.
“That’s not what I brought you here for.” He said, suddenly determined, with a voice not matching his bodily reactions at all. Mikhail looked into the veiled eyes and tried to calm down his breathing and conceal his disappointment. He yearned to leave his hands where they were or even let them advance further. But he respected Fei Long’s wish and removed them reluctantly from beneath his shirt.
“What is it, then, that you brought me here for?” He asked, his breathing still ragged, with an obvious frustration in his voice. “I think it’s about time you tell me.”
Fei Long seemed to be struggling with himself, his hand ranked through Mikhail’s blond locks, his eyes darted around restlessly.
“Let me ask you something, Mikhail,” he began in a quiet, hesitant voice. “Your intentions… are they real or not?”
“What do you mean?” The Russian replied, slightly confused; the question came totally unexpected.
“That night, when you… when we slept together. Why did you come?”
“I don’t know.” Mikhail admitted and despite his helpless words, his hands were stroking Fei Long’s back reassuringly. “I didn’t intend anything in particular. I wanted to see you, I wanted to… get things right. Everything that went so terribly wrong between us.”
Fei Long sighed and moved away a little, enough to make clear that he should take his hands away.
“Only that?” Fei Long asked and by the tone of his voice, even if it still sounded calm and controlled, Mikhail could tell that he had to be careful-he was about to destroy everything.
“I only want to know one thing,” Fei Long went on, his eyes staring at the ground. “Are you honest or not?”
“Honest about what?”
“About what you convey. That I mean something to you. That it was more to you than just a one-night stand.”
“Fei,” Mikhail sighed, “I…”
“Answer!”
There it was again, the wounded beast that still mistrusted him, that was still ready to maul him at any minute. Mikhail met the gaze directed at him, which suddenly seemed hurt. He hesitated for a moment while he searched for the right words.
“Fei, I… I don’t really know myself. I am erratic and impulsive. Most of the time I am not sure why I act the way I do. I can’t really explain why I ended up at your place that night. I don’t want to pretend something I’m not sure about. I can’t tell you for sure what I’m feeling, what I want from you. But there’s one thing I can assure you- you’re not just a toy for me, not a mere adventure, not a meaningless trophy. I didn’t do it to add you to my collection or check you on my list. That night with you… meant a lot to me, it was beautiful. And that I am here with you obviously shows that it meant more to me than that.”
Fei Long examined him for a moment and Mikhail’s heart pounded hard under his impervious gaze. He had placed everything on one card and hadn’t lied to get his will like he usually did. For once he had decided to be honest, and now he would have to live with the consequences, whatever they might be.
“Half of what you just said would be enough to convince me not to waste my time with you any further.” Fei Long answered coolly. “Normally I don’t bother with people who don’t know what they want. Your thirst for adventure and tendency to risk everything at once are traits we certainly don’t share. I want security and reliability. I am not someone who speculates and takes risks.”
He took a deep breath, still looking at Mikhail. “Still I want to give you and this thing between us a chance-because I still refuse to regard it as coincidence. I know, I shouldn’t do this and I will probably regret it.”
He stopped, breaking their eye contact this time. His gaze darted across the room, as if he was looking for something he couldn’t catch. Fei Long stayed silent and Mikhail waited, anxious for what would follow, not sure whether he’d like it or not.
“I will go to Hangzhou next month, I have some business there. It’s one weekend, Friday, Saturday and Sunday. If you care about what is between us, come with me.”
There was no pleading in his voice, but not the usual, commanding tone either. It was neutral, not conveying any emotion, just a small trace of sadness in it. Once again Mikhail yearned to know this man better, to understand him better.
He had heard about Hangzhou; supposedly one of the most beautiful cities in China, the magical West Lake in its middle, surrounded by countless legends. Why Fei Long needed to go there and why he should accompany him was totally beyond him, yet his answer came without hesitation.
“I will come with you.”
Again he was dancing to Fei Long’s tune, accepting his conditions without questioning his motives. He would have to change his business plan, cancel important meetings and postpone important negotiations. But he didn’t have another choice for he felt that what Fei Long had proposed really was his last offer. He wasn’t in the place to set the conditions or to question Fei Long’s.
A smile swept across the Chinese man’s face, a smile that didn’t indicate relief, but silent reassurance. Had he been afraid that Mikhail wouldn’t accept? Why was he constantly trying to convince himself that Mikhail only saw him as an amusement?
The Russian was aware that now was the time to back away. He rose reluctantly from the armrest of Fei Long’s chair and sat down on his own, reaching for the cup of coffee. They stayed silent for a while.
“I had a wonderful day, Mikhail.” Fei Long said finally. “I have not taken a day off for a long time because I don’t know how to enjoy my free time anymore. No matter what I do, I feel restless. I think about my business, my non-existent private life, about everything I don’t have. Today, I wasn’t thinking about those things at all. I was only thinking about the two of us.”
Mikhail could have sworn his heart skipped several beats upon hearing these words. The amazingly beautiful creature sitting next to him gave him a soft look that made his knees tremble so much he was glad to be seated. He felt like a sixteen-year old on his first date. To be the reason for this look, for the hint of a smile, meant more to him than all the flattering words he had ever heard.
He returned the look, trying to express with it everything he felt for this man, even though he wasn’t entirely sure about what it was. Then he ventured to reach for Fei Long’s hand, stroked it gently and whispered, “Me too, Fei. Me too.”
…
He didn’t stay much longer after he had finished his coffee-- there wasn’t any reason for it. They had said everything that had to be said, and everything that was spoken between them afterwards was nothing but small talk.
Mikhail ordered his helicopter from Macao to fly over and pick him up, and ignored his pilot’s confused question about how he had gotten to Hong Kong. Fei Long offered him to have his driver take him to the landing field and he accepted, aware that, following Chinese courtesy, he had to do it.
“I will inform you about the details of our trip soon.” Fei Long said formally when he escorted him down across the courtyard to the car. “You will hear from me the next couple of days, Mr. Arbatov.”
Mikhail smirked upon the formal tone that Fei Long kept in front of his servants.
If only they knew how I had you under me, Fei Long, he thought, but went along playing his game.
“Thank you very much for your hospitality, Mr. Liu. Good day.”
He got into the car and didn’t turn around while they were driving through the gateway, fixing his eyes to the road. The thoughts began to race in his head when they got further and further away from Baishe. The whole day replayed in front of his inner eye, every surge of emotion that Fei Long had shown to him: the cheerful serenity, the sudden tension, the suppressed excitement, the rejection.
Two steps forward, one step back.
Of course he was disappointed that Fei Long had not allowed him to sleep with him, but it wasn’t important. He felt it had been the beginning of something new between them and he strongly hoped that they could continue along this path.
Who would have thought the night of the typhoon had triggered something, had set a new path for them? He only had to be careful, had to advance slowly and not scare away Fei Long. The scars were still to fresh, the suspicion too strong.
With Hong Kong’s evening sun warming his face, he closed his eyes and remembered the feeling of smooth, silky, jet-black hair running through his fingers.
…
Fei Long was dreaming.
Cold metal on his skin sent a horrifying shiver through his body. His eyelids were shut tight, as if this could prevent what could be about to happen.
What was awaiting him? Would it hurt? Would it take a long time? Or would he be granted a fast, painless death? Would it possibly even be pleasant to die? Would all the back and forth, the pondering, the endless circle, finally come to an end? Would he be freed from all the grueling questions? Or would death only be one step further and everything would continue, in another form?
His fingers began to tremble with tension and the cold sweat further intensified his shivering. This was the moment. He breathed in deep, sucked the cold, clear air into his vibrant lungs, probably feeling life for the very last time.
Suddenly he thought of all the people he had met in his life. Would they mourn his death? Would they regret not seeing him ever again? Would they even care?
His father’s face appeared in front of his inner eye. His critical, piercing gaze, his rigorous eyes, showing so much emotion.
Forgive me, Baba. I am not worthy of succeeding you.
There was no way out now. He had to do it. Maybe it wasn’t even the end, after all. Maybe he would do another breath and another, and many more. He just had to…
Suddenly, another feeling pierced his dream, warmth instead of cold. A hand, grasping his, removed the revolver from his clutch with a gentle force, taking it away.
“Let go, Fei.” He heard the warm and tender voice that soothed him immediately, calmed the storm inside of him and made the violent shivering subside. “Let go,” it said again, “because I don’t want you to risk your life. Don’t rely on a higher force to save you. Don’t play with yourself, Fei.”
Then he heard the deafening sound, like loud thunder, the shot that would have killed him, if the barrel was still pressed against his temple.
He opened his eyes and they met another pair, water blue, and yet full of fire.
Pairing: Fei Long/Mikhail
Spoilers: NT
Summary: Nightmares from the past are still hunting Fei Long and even after spending the night with Mikhail, their relationship is anything but clear. Will one sunny day in Macao change this? Sequel to Typhoon.
I know it took me horribly long to upload this and I humbly apologize.
Thanks a lot angel0399 for the beta job!
The revolver felt cold and heavy in his hand, pressing against his temple, disturbing and impossible to ignore. He swallowed hard and closed his eyes. Though he could control his facial expressions and his gestures, he found himself unable to suppress his instincts that betrayed him in this very moment.
He felt a cold sweat covering his body and the powerful beating of his racing heart.
There was no way out, no possibility to escape.
And as he drew in what might be his last breath, his chest rose and images began to flash in front of his eyes.
Not of his family and friends, as it would have been the case with other people.
First he saw a man with black hair, very tall for an Asian, wearing a fierce and ice cold expression. He had eyes that never showed any emotion if he didn’t wish for it, and a face that made one hold their breath, as Fei Long was doing.
Then the vivid face of a young man appeared, radiating exactly the opposite of what he’d just seen. He was Japanese, just like his older lover, and had a face with an almost childlike naivety, and a body that had given in so willingly to Fei Long’s hands; it was so smooth, as if made out of wax.
And not least, a face so very different from the ones before. Steel-blue, piercing eyes showed no less determination than those of Asami Ryuichi, but were able to assume a gentle, almost soft tenderness that the Japanese man completely lacked. Their expression showed so many facets that it seemed impossible to Fei Long to absorb all of them completely. The face was framed by golden curls which, as Fei Long knew now, felt incredibly soft to the touch and gave his impressive appearance a youthful vitality.
Finally, this was the face that remained in front of his eyes, as he, now that his last breath was drawn and his lungs filled to the point of bursting, crooked his finger and pulled the trigger, not knowing if there would be a tomorrow. Or if he would ever see the face again that made this fateful movement so much easier.
A loud shot ripped the air.
…
Fei Long awoke in his bed covered in sweat, gasping for air, while his confused consciousness was slowly returning to reality.
He had only been dreaming.
The dream was over, but still the memory of it was sending waves of cold horror through his body. He had been sure that he had left the demons of the past behind. However, there were certain moments, like when he was asleep and out of control, when they emerged to torture him.
But that was not all.
It had been two months since that eventful night when the first typhoon of the season had passed over Hong Kong and Mikhail had spent the night at his place-and with him.
He had thought himself to be stronger. He had thought he would be able to let the matter rest, to be able to let the solid walls that usually surrounded him down for just one night, without having to regret it afterwards.
But, as much as he hated it, he had to admit he was thinking about that night a lot more than he wanted to, and-- even worse-- longing for it, for the rough and forceful hands on his damp skin, the passionate mouth conquering him, and… and…
Fei Long shivered as a sudden wave of heat took hold of him when he remembered the hot and hard organ that had pushed into him, had marked him and had made him moan with feverish pleasure.
Damn it!
He had thought he would be able to dismiss it as a faux pas, a nonrecurring mistake, because even in the moments of greatest pleasure he had sensed that he would consider the whole story as such.
But he didn’t know himself well, in fact, not at all.
Arbatov had not even stayed for breakfast. When they’d woken up the next morning it had been quite late already and the typhoon had lost all of its strength, so he didn’t have another excuse to stay.
Except that if Fei Long would have asked him for it. When they had parted in a rather formal manner, something had flashed up in Mikhail’s eyes that had made Fei Long think he was waiting for something of the kind. But not a word had passed his lips.
Now here he was again, in his huge apartment, like before-a workaholic, who didn’t allow himself a minute of rest, in order to avoid any kind of thinking. It was the same state as before, the impossibility to admit he was lacking something. And that this something had possibly just slipped through his fingers.
Only at night, in his dreams, he couldn’t avoid it. When he was completely and helplessly at the mercy of his sub-consciousness and everything that had been hidden deep beneath his thoughts came back to the surface.
Like just now, when he had dreamed of Russian roulette.
Many years ago, when he had been younger and unable to conceive the value of his own life, he had once played this game. He recalled the night back to his memory once in a while and couldn’t help but realize that his present life started to resemble this game more and more-- always, everything was at stake, life or death, nothing in between. Pulling the trigger and waiting for the outcome.
He rose from his bed, still slightly shaking. It was a hot and humid night, but that wasn’t the only reason he was covered in sweat. Since he didn’t like air condition, he only turned it on when it was inevitable. Now he also decided against it, instead he walked into the living room and dropped onto the sofa in front of his television, only wearing his underpants. He took a sheet of paper from the coffee table to fan himself, while he tried to chase away the horrors of the preceding dream that had appeared so real.
Why had it been Mikhail Arbatov’s face that he had seen in the moment before his supposed death? He refrained from searching an answer to this question.
Since the night they had spent together, he had not seen the Russian again and had avoided thinking of him. But now the memory overwhelmed him with an incredible intensity.
Damn, it can’t continue like this.
He starred outside the huge window at the skyline of Kowloon that was veiled by a faint layer of mist. Dawn was already breaking and he knew that he wouldn’t get any more sleep tonight.
…
Macao
Every morning right after getting up, Mikhail Arbatov took half an hour to swim several laps in his private outdoor pool. He didn’t only do this as a workout, but mostly to clear his mind. There wasn’t anything more meditative and purifying than gliding through the fresh water and feeling his muscles tense with every movement. After swimming a few laps he usually emerged from the water fresh and full of energy, ready for whatever the day would bring.
During the last couple of weeks, however, not even this had allowed him to find inner peace. On the contrary, the thoughts running through his head totally deprived him of any vitality.
The back and forth… the pros and cons.
Plus the permanent consciousness that he had been so close to his object of desire- only to have it slip through his fingers again. And the more he was thinking about it, the more he came to the conclusion that all his hope was empty and in vain.
A one-night stand, nothing unusual nowadays. As much as he had been trying to convince himself of it, as much as he was looking for signs and hints that it had been more to Fei Long than the mere soothing of his mental pain, he still had to admit that this didn’t seem very likely.
Unfortunately, he wasn’t like Fei Long, who was spurred by thoughts of that kind and driven into an almost fanatical enthusiasm for his work. Instead, they paralyzed him and took all of his strength.
The first few days after their night together he had barely managed to work at all and neglected many important projects for much too long. Now he was finally ready to concentrate at least partially on the most important things.
But it wasn’t easy by far.
Right now his arms were pushing through the water, making him glide through it and feel his own power. It felt good since the humid heat of the night had deprived him of any sleep. It revived the spirits that were still slumbering inside of him and cleaned him at least superficially.
He let himself float through the water for a moment until he reached the edge of the pool and closed his eyes, felt his wet hair float on the small waves he had caused himself that washed an occasional strand into his face.
Today will be good, he continued to tell himself. Today would be different from the days before, which had been dominated by endless and senseless pondering. Today he would tackle everything he had neglected and get things back under his control again.
At that moment, he noticed something in the corner of his eyes, a vague movement on the edge of the pool. When he twisted his head, he saw that it was one of his servants who was apparently trying to attract his attention. He went over and asked him in Cantonese. “What’s wrong? You know I don’t want to be disturbed while I’m swimming.”
“Yes, I know, but…” The young man swallowed nervously; it was obvious that he was just facing an unsolvable conflict. “There’s a call for you, Mr. Arbatov.”
“You also know that goes for everything, even for calls.”
“But it’s important, Sir.”
Mikhail sighed, slightly annoyed. What about it was so hard to understand?
“Who says it’s important?”
“Mr. Liu of Baishe, Sir, he said it’s incredibly important and he has to talk to you as soon as possible. He said it wouldn’t permit any delay. That’s why I thought…”
“Mr. Liu? Liu Fei Long?”
“Yes, exactly, Sir.”
“Alright. I’m coming.”
Frowning, he looked after his servant who hurried back to the house and heaved himself out of the water. What was it that Fei Long needed to discuss so urgently? They didn’t have any business at the moment because Fei Long had broken off all negotiations between them after the incident with Asami. That was also the reason why he had stated that Mikhail had misused his trust-- he was probably right about that.
After drying himself quickly with his towel, he wrapped it around his hips and hurried towards the house, where his servant handed over the phone.
“Hello?”
“Mikhail, it’s me.”
“I was told so. What is important enough to make me interrupt my morning swim session?“
“I don’t like waiting.”
Mikhail felt a slight surge of anger taking hold of him. Of course, if Liu Fei Long felt some kind of desire, it had to be satisfied immediately, regardless of the damage-- just like that night. Fei Long had been alone and desperate, looking for support and affection, and Mikhail had been stupid enough to provide him with both, without thinking about the consequences.
“What is this about, then?” he asked coolly.
“I don’t really want to discuss this on the phone, I’d rather do it personally. What about us meeting for lunch?”
“Alright.”
He felt like biting off his tongue. In fact, he had an appointment, an important one at that. It was possible to suspend it, of course, but for what? For a new surge of emotion from Fei Long, another one of his fixed ideas, his amusements? It couldn’t have been more than that, since they didn’t entertain business relations any more. Which meant this had to be something personal. Mikhail was only too aware of how unresistingly he was dancing to Fei Long’s tune.
“Let’s meet at the ruins of the Sao Paulo church.” The Chinese man suggested. “I don’t feel like going to one of these fancy, formal restaurants and making a big appearance. I’d prefer something modest…”
“You know I’m not very fond of the Cantonese cuisine.” Mikhail interrupted him.
“Don’t worry, I am aware of that.” Fei Long replied, obviously amused. “That’s why I was thinking, in remembrance of Macao’s former occupiers, we could have some European Mediterranean food.”
Mikhail sighed. “Well then. When are we meeting?”
“One o’clock. Sharp.”
And before the Russian even had the opportunity of saying anything else, Fei Long had hung up on him.
…
It was a wonderful day, with a dazzling blue sky and a faint breeze coming from the sea. Even though the hot and humid summer was already on its way, it still spared them the most merciless temperatures. Mikhail was wearing a light linen shirt, pants and sunglasses, which helped as he looked for his lunch acquaintance. He enjoyed the fresh air that was playing slightly with the fabric that covered his heated skin, which wasn’t exactly cooled down by the fact that he was about to meet Fei Long in a few minutes.
It was hard to locate him in the crowd. Once in a while Mikhail saw thick, jet-black hair flashing up somewhere, just to realize, upon coming closer, that they actually belonged to some young woman and didn’t have the same shimmer as the Chinese man’s. Oh, how he longed to feel it in his fingers again! But he would hardly be so lucky this time. As poorly as he knew Fei Long, he still was sure that the purpose of their meeting wasn’t to repeat their “mistake”, as he certainly considered it.
Whatever intentions he really had, Mikhail didn’t have any choice but to be patient about and find out.
“Boo!” The sudden sound came loudly from behind him and almost made him trip over one of the steps he was just walking up. He couldn’t remember ever jumping out of his skin the same way. Struggling to regain his composure, he turned around and caught sight of Fei Long who was totally different from what he had experienced so far. He had gotten to know many versions-- proud, sophisticated, desperate, busy, sensual, aroused, but this one was new; Fei Long was guffawing like a child that had succeeded in playing a trick on someone while throwing back his head, which made his long black braid sway slowly back and forth.
“I didn’t think it was that easy to scare you.”
Mikhail’s heart was still hammering from the shock, but it didn’t calm down at all when he examined the man in front of him. Fei Long had not lost any of his mesmerizing beauty and his amazing charisma during the time that had passed since their last encounter. He was also wearing light linen trousers and a blue shirt, the buttons at the top left carelessly open, golden skin flashing from beneath provokingly. Mikhail wondered if the Chinese man had the faintest idea of how he made his wildest desires flare up in an instant, mixed with the memories of the night they had spent together. Damn, this man was a walking torture, and he wondered what on Earth he had done wrong for having to endure it. Even though it was his own fault for agreeing to this meeting in the first place.
Fortunately he possessed enough self-control not to show his inner turmoil and had forced himself to answer.
“There are many sides of me that you don’t know yet. And I promise it’s worth to get to know every one of them.”
While he was speaking, he shot a promising and insistent glance at Fei Long that should’ve given him ideas of what they could share with each other. Fei Long, as he didn’t fail to notice, lowered his eyes.
“Before I explore the depths of your soul I’d rather go eat first. I had an unpleasant meeting this morning and I’m starving.”
Of course he was disappointed that Fei Long didn’t engage in his game, but on the other hand he hadn’t really expected him to, so he put on a happy face.
“Well then. I’ll follow you.”
Fei Long nodded and started to walk down the stairs.
“So, how have you been?” Fei Long asked while they were walking down the broad steps, away from the ruins.
Mikhail shrugged. “So-so. A lot of work.”
Was he just imagining it or did he feel Fei Long’s scrutinizing look on him as he answered the question? However, only seconds later his face went back to the usual mask, the eternal poker face. Did this man have any feelings at all? Had it been someone else lying in his arms that night, desperate and hurt, opening himself up to him? Damn, the man was as hard to read as a piece of ancient calligraphy, yet equally beautiful.
The restaurant wasn’t far away and the remaining way they spent talking about a mutual business associate who had married last week. Mikhail had not managed to come to his wedding, so Fei Long reported every detail about the ceremony-as if Mikhail was really interested. More so, it seemed it was done to avoid broaching the unspoken things between them.
It was a very small place, hidden somewhere in the narrow, winding alleys of Macao. Mikhail wondered how he had come across it, since it obviously wasn’t one of the high-class restaurants they were used to. When he stated the question, a smile stole across his lips.
“There are many sides of me that you don’t know yet, Mikhail.” he replied.
“But, unlike you, I don’t doubt that it’s worth getting to know them at all.” the Russian answered promptly.
Their eyes locked for a moment until Fei Long interrupted their contact by shaking his head slightly.
“How do you know so precisely what I think? What makes you believe that I think it’s not worth getting to know you?”
For the splint of a second the familiar desperation flashed up in his eyes, then he opened the door.
“Let’s go eat, Mikhail. We’ll talk later.”
So they would talk, after all. This expectation made Mikhail follow Fei Long’s intoxicating scent and enter the small restaurant.
“Liu Fei Long! I was beginning to think you’d never show up here again!”
As soon as Mikhail’s eyes had adjusted to the reduced brightness, he saw a short man with a mustache and a huge, round belly hurrying towards them.
“João Paolo!“ Fei Long replied in English, wearing a broad smile. “Your food is always going to bring me back here, so don’t expect to ever get rid of me!”
Mikhail almost felt jealous when he watched the two men joking and amicably patting their shoulders. Why did he seem to be so at ease with other people? He longed to get to know this cheerful, sociable man who wasn’t weighed down by his sorrows or caution.
The short Portuguese man assisted them to their table. They were quite late; most Chinese people had eaten lunch long ago, which made them almost the only guests in the whole place. Apart from the two of them, there was a couple sitting somewhere in the corner, but they were completely self-absorbed. The man who had greeted them handed them the menus and left them alone so they could make their choices.
“What do you recommend?” Mikhail asked, his eyes wandering over the different dishes.
“The fish is unsurpassed.” Fei Long replied, smiling. “If there’s something the Portuguese are good at, it’s preparing fish.”
“Então. May I take your order?”
When João Paolo returned to the table, Mikhail had done as told and chosen a fish dish. Fei Long ordered some wine along with the food and even though he had been planning to get some work done later today, Mikhail didn’t protest.
“Well, now, I suppose, you want to know how I came across this restaurant, am I right?” Fei Long asked with a smile after João Paolo had left.
Mikhail frowned slightly. Was he that obvious? In fact, he had been thinking about this question ever since they’d entered the place.
“Frankly, yes.”
“When I was still a very young boy I once got lost in Macao. My watchdog was distracted for a second and whoosh, I was gone.”
Mikhail couldn’t suppress a broad smile when he thought of Fei Long as a kid. Surely he had been incredibly cute.
“First I thought I could easily find my way back,” he continued. “But then everything started to look the same. I was getting more and more desperate, the further I went. And when I was at my wit’s end, I started to cry. Coincidentally, I’d found myself here, in front of this restaurant. João Paolo, who was still a lot slimmer at that time, picked me up. He’d comforted me and stuffed me with Pasteis de nata while trying to find out where I came from. Fortunately he speaks a bit of Cantonese, because at that time I wasn’t even able to speak any English. He has been living in Macao all his life, since his father used to work for the Portuguese administration. He’d went to a Portuguese school, though, so he was never really forced to learn the ‘native’s tongue’. Anyway, he’d managed to squeeze out enough information to find out my address and to contact my father. When they’d found me they were terribly angry and I got a good thrashing at home. I never ran away again after that. They’d wanted to give a huge sum to João Paolo for finding me, but he didn’t want to hear about it and didn’t accept any of the money.
When I was sixteen I was in Macao once when the whole story came back to me. My memory had led me back here and I knocked on the door, not knowing if the previous owner would be still here, not even fully sure if he had ever existed. But when he’d opened the door I was immediately convinced it was him, and he had recognized me within seconds. ‘You’re the boy that got lost here, aren’t you!’ he shouted. Seriously. Even though I had grown quite a bit since that time, believe me. I have been visiting him from time to time ever since. And I always have to fight to pay the bill.”
Mikhail had not taken his eyes from him one second while he was talking. He just listened, entranced, taking in the story that he felt not many people had heard before, if anybody at all. At the same time he felt it was a sign of trust and a certain amount of intimacy, that he had taken him to this place that apparently meant a lot to him.
After Fei Long had ended, he nodded slowly.
“Sometimes there are occurrences that almost make one believe in destiny, aren’t there?”
The Chinese smiled. “Oh, I firmly believe in destiny. You don’t?”
Mikhail raised an eyebrow. “No, because in that case destiny would have an incredible weird sense of humor, along with blatant injustice. I prefer to believe that everything’s happening by coincidence and we can direct our so-called fate by ourselves; that we can control things. It matches a lot better with the concept I have for my life.”
“So you believe everything happens at random and without a higher meaning at all? How sad.”
“And you believe we’re all just at the mercy of some higher power that can control as it pleases? Even sadder.”
Fei Long wasn’t smiling anymore-- he seemed to be dead serious about the topic.
“So, according to you it’s a mere coincidence that we’ve met?”
Mikhail starred into the dark eyes, astonished by the question. Was there a chance that what happened between them meant something to him after all? When recalling that night-something he avoided to do because the mere thought of it almost drove him insane-he found it hard to believe that everything had happened was without a higher meaning.
“As I said,” he replied without taking his glance from the pair of deep, almond-shaped eyes. “There are occurrences-and encounters-that could almost make one believe in destiny.”
“Almost?”
Fei Long’s question came quite quietly, almost in a whisper, and again Mikhail sensed a hint of the desperation that had clouded him that night.
“I want to tell you something else.” Fei Long continued when Mikhail found himself unable to answer. “When I was still younger-a lot younger, reckless and stupid on top of that-I was hanging around in Kowloon Walled City a lot. Once I played a round of Russian roulette with a bunch of meddlers on a dare. The fact that I’m sitting here shows you the outcome. According to you, it’s a mere coincidence that I am alive. I have been thinking about it a lot, and to be honest I have noticed that I cannot bear that thought. I’d much rather believe that it was my fate to live-- that there’s a meaning behind it. That somebody-or something- wants me to live.”
Mikhail was still studying him closely while he was starting to understand what this was about. Fei Long was scared of the void that his imagination of coincidence suggested. He needed the comfort, the thought that everything was meant to be, that it had a deeper meaning. It gave him strength and eased his suffering.
“I understand.” he answered therefore. And in the look that he was given afterwards lay something he had never seen with Fei Long before-genuine gratitude.
Their conversation was interrupted by João Paolo who, at that moment, placed two plates in front of them, then beckoned one of the waiters to bring a bottle of wine and glasses. He uncorked the bottle, poured a tiny amount of wine into one glass and handed it to Fei Long for him to sample. When he approved with a nod, he poured in more for both of them.
“Enjoy your meal!” he rejoiced, then left the table.
Fortunately, they were able to abandon their talk during the whole procedure, but now they sat in awkward silence. However, Mikhail managed to successfully interrupt it by praising Fei Long’s tip with the fish, which he found excellent. Fei Long smiled a little and seemed to be a bit more relaxed than when they had arrived.
They fell into a casual conversation that they kept going throughout the entire meal. First they talked about plants and gardens, about the necessity of nature for their well-being and about the terrible pollution in China. The conversation then steered towards the precarious situation of the Hong Kong stock market, about family-- even though Fei Long quickly led away from this topic after a few general remarks-- and their favorite spots for travelling. They even discussed music and films. Mikhail went with the flow of the conversation, which was easier and more comfortable the longer it went, until they put down their knives and forks, satisfied and with a full stomach, still sipping on the remnants of wine. Mikhail had tried not to appear too impatient during the whole time-Fei Long would address the reason for their meeting sooner or later-- but he was enjoying himself. Fei Long revealed some rather personal facts about himself that the Russian collected like pieces of a puzzle in his head and put them together to a beautiful picture.
…
Fei Long patted his stomach, which Mikhail remembered too well to be firm and flat underneath his clothes, and sighed in agreement.
“It’s nice to eat in quiet once in a while. Most of the time just I shovel down something because I have to hurry to the next appointment.”
“And this afternoon you don’t have any more appointments that require your attendance?”
The Chinese shook his head. “No, I took off the rest of the day.”
Mikhail frowned in surprise. “That’s unusual.”
“It is indeed.”
He’d had the idea in the morning. After his nightmare and especially after the last couple of restless weeks, it had seemed like a good idea to allow himself a bit of peace for one day. Unfortunately he had business he couldn’t postpone earlier that morning, but for the rest, he had instructed his secretary to move them to another day.
Why he had then decided to spend his day off with Mikhail Arbatov was as incomprehensible to him as the strange feelings that took hold of him every time he was together with the man. But as much as it confused him, it still felt good to sit there with the Russian, to drink wine and to chat. So good that he didn’t really want to think about it. And that he was starting to tell him things he wouldn’t even tell to his psychologist.
“Well, what should we do with the rest of the day, Arbatov? Please don’t tell me you have an important meeting soon and have to run.”
Mikhail bit his lower lip. He actually had important matters to attend to, and he absolutely couldn’t afford to laze away the day with his former opponent. He’d have to pay dearly if he postponed all his business. But how could he resist such an offer-- a whole afternoon with Liu Fei Long after he’d been unsuccessfully trying to get near him for months? He shook his head reluctantly.
“No, actually I’m free for a change.”
Fei Long smiled at him provokingly and Mikhail realized in an instant that he had a very precise idea of how things stood with regard to his supposedly free afternoon. Still, he settled with it and didn’t make any further remarks.
“How about coffee?” He suggested instead.
Mikhail nodded and was about to beckon João Paolo when he suddenly felt Fei Long’s hand on his, an unexpected touch so full of promise it sent a shiver down his spine.
“Why don’t we move to Hong Kong for coffee. Actually I bought a new coffee machine I would like to try out.”
Even though Mikhail wasn’t sure what he could expect from that, it still made his heart beat considerably faster. He had never experienced this side of Fei Long-relaxed, tempting, challenging, all at the same time. He seemed to involve them both in some kind of subtle game, and Mikhail wasn’t quite sure what role he was playing. What did the Chinese mafia leader intend by suddenly letting him get that close after he had let him warm his bed only once, with extended claws and after endless back and forth?
He didn’t trust the peace, but he was fully aware of the fact that if he wanted more of Fei Long, he had no choice but to play his game.
“Sounds good. And how do we get there? Did you bring your helicopter?”
Fei Long chuckled. “No, not today. Once in a while I enjoy traveling like a civilian. What about taking the ferry?”
“Ferry?” Mikhail returned his gaze, slightly confused. Fei Long could easily see that he had never before taken a regular ferry from Macao to Hong Kong, let alone ever considered it. He couldn’t suppress an amused smile.
“Alright,” the Russian then replied and stood up determinedly. “Let’s take the ferry.”
As Fei Long had already predicted, João Paolo refused to let them have the bill. When he finally accepted that they would pay for their meal, a small fight erupted between the two men about who would do it. Mikhail had been in China long enough to adopt some of the local habits, and to make the biggest effort possible to take over the bill for a meal was one of them.
Fei Long still won. After they had bid farewell to their host, they stepped back onto the sunlit alleys they set off into the direction of the ferry terminal. According to Fei Long, it wasn’t too far away.
Mikhail enjoyed walking through the streets in silence and letting the sun warm his skin. Most of the times when he was going somewhere, he was surrounded by all kinds of henchmen and bodyguards; he rarely took the opportunity to go for a walk alone or with company-least of all just for pleasure. With Fei Long it probably was the same.
They didn’t talk a lot, but he felt that there was no need for it at the moment. Both of them were lost in thoughts and drifting through the crowd of people that had emerged due to the good weather. It took them almost half an hour to reach the harbor. Fei Long bought them two tickets and pressed one into Mikhail’s hand.
“Please, at least let me pay for that.”
“Oh, please, Arbatov. You should know that money’s nothing I’m short of.”
“It’s about the principle.”
“It’s about your pride that prevents you from letting yourself be invited like a woman on her first date. That’s what it is about.”
Mikhail had to admit he was right. Normally it was always him in control, making decisions and pulling the strings. But since he had met up with Fei Long, the latter had been in charge of everything, which he found confusing. Well, hard to get used to. But he decided to go along with it.
…
He quite enjoyed the crossing, the cool breeze, the water splashing against the boat and the tiny droplets that landed on his face. But most of all Fei Long next to him, especially the one time he lost his balance on the shaky surface and landed directly in his arms. Mikhail raised him up to his feet reluctantly while wondering if it could’ve been on purpose. When they finally reached Hong Kong, he almost felt a little disappointed. It had been his first time on a regular ferry, after all.
“And now, I assume, we queue up for the pass control like regular people?” He asked while they were walking up the swaying ramp.
“Exactly. You go over there to the queue for foreigners; residents should be a bit quicker.” He waved his ID. “See you later.”
With that, he was gone and Mikhail rolled his eyes when he lined up between middle-aged English tourists. Fei Long obviously seemed to enjoy behaving like a commoner, but he wasn’t really enjoying himself that much. What was all that money for if he couldn’t toss it out of the window? He had, however, enjoyed the ferry ride. He might have to amend his opinion.
His passport was stamped and he met a sneering Fei Long at the other end, who seemed to have waited for a while already.
“I was going to take the subway, but since you’re obviously having such a hard time I called my driver to pick us up here. Don’t worry, our little excursion into the world of the mortals is over. “
Mikhail couldn’t suppress a smile. “I would be willing to suffer so much more to have coffee with you.”
“Oh please, you sound like we were still in middle school.” Fei Long replied indignantly, while they were walking towards the terminal exit.
As he had promised, his limousine, including the driver, was waiting outside and Mikhail felt considerably more comfortable after they had gotten into the car and were gliding through the thick traffic. He couldn’t take his eyes from Fei Long, this new Fei Long, not the wounded, furious beast, but a gentle house cat, seemingly stretching out in the sun, waiting for somebody to ruffle its fur. The imagination made him smile in amusement.
Due to the busy traffic it took them some time to reach Baishe’s main building. Mikhail looked at the sumptuous building with mixed feelings-when he had entered it for the last time, it was all to get closer to Fei Long than ever before. What was waiting for him now?
Fei Long’s face appeared like that of a china doll- it didn’t reveal the slightest trace of emotion. His servants were waiting for them in the entrance hall and Fei Long barked some orders in Cantonese into their direction, whereupon most of them left the hall and only one remained to follow them when they climbed the chairs to the second floor.
They entered Fei Long’s private rooms. Without a doubt only few people had had the privilege to enter them before and Mikhail sincerely hoped that Asami Ryuichi wasn’t one of them. The thought to have at least this advantage over the man who had stolen Fei Long’s heart reassured him a little bit.
The Chinese lowered himself into one of the armchairs and instructed the servant to bring them coffee. Then he beckoned Mikhail to sit down in the chair next to him, which he did immediately.
“I didn’t think I would come back here.” He admitted.
“Life is full of surprises.” Fei Long replied plainly. “Or rather coincidences?”
“Oh dear, that is really bothering you, isn’t it?” Mikhail sighed. “Even if there’s no higher power controlling everything, we still have the power to make decisions. We have our consciousness and can decide for or against something. And you decided that you want me to be here.”
A smug smile appeared on the beautiful face. “But it’s of no importance at all if I give in to you because it doesn’t serve any higher purpose. If our paths separate or not is totally left to chance.”
“No, it’s left to our will.”
He looked at Fei Long directly while those words were spoken and met the look coming from those dark, almond-shaped eyes. As often before, he was almost blinded by his beauty in this moment. Some strands that had fallen out of his braid framed his majestic face and the golden skin was shining in the late afternoon sun that was seeping through the broad window.
And his gaze-it was warm and intense, so that Mikhail’s heart started to race immediately. This man couldn’t be real. Suddenly he felt tempted to start believing in destiny because he had the opportunity to be here with him.
Before he could reply anything, the door opened and another servant brought their coffee on a tray that he placed on the table in front of them. Fei Long acknowledged this with a quick nod.
“Thank you. From now on, we don’t wish to be disturbed anymore.”
The servant bowed and left the room.
“Milk and sugar?” Fei Long turned to Mikhail as soon as they were alone.
“I will help myself, thank you.”
He usually took his coffee black, sometimes with a shot of milk. Even though he kept a healthy diet, regularly worked out and refrained from taking addictive substances of any kind, not even painkillers, he still couldn’t abandon having several cups of coffee every day. The fresh scent wafted into his nose when he raised the cup to his mouth and took the first sip.
“Hm, not bad, your new machine.” He muttered appraisingly while he closed his eyes in approval.
Fei Long shot a satisfied glance at him. “So I was right with my assumption.”
“Which was?”
Mikhail raised his eyes and again met the breathtaking gaze of the man sitting next to him. The tension he had felt earlier immediately returned, and when they met each other’s eyes, the air between them seemed to crackle.
“That you are a man who values good quality.” The Chinese man answered quietly and didn’t lower his gaze, but kept it locked with Mikhail’s, piercing him with an unknown intensity. He started breathing considerably faster.
“Oh yes, I do indeed.”
He didn’t know what made him do what he did then. Maybe it had been the long wait, Fei Long’s both agonizing and exciting presence that he had been enduring for the entire afternoon, or his own uncontrollable libido, the magic of the moment, Fei Long’s unusual serenity… He rose with a jolt, putting the cup back on the coffee table. With a few steps he reached Fei Long’s chair, dropped down onto the armrest and pulled the beautiful Chinese man into a deep kiss. They both sighed when their lips met. Mikhail had to brace himself on the chair in order to not succumb to the dizziness that suddenly overcame him. It was like that night-- the same fire was still burning between them. He had not only imagined it.
Fei Long wrapped his arms around him and Mikhail gave in immediately; he leaned in closer and pressed his upper body into him. God, he wanted this man as he had never wanted anything before, he longed to hold him again like he had that night.
His hands rose to the nape of his neck, entangling with the thick black hair, breathing in the scent that he had missed so much. His tongue plunged deep into the other man’s mouth which opened up readily for him and they started playing the game they had played before-the subtle, affectionate fight for dominance, which still made Mikhail’s stomach flutter.
Incredulous about what had just happened, he pulled away to gasp for air and to look into the deep, almond-shaped eyes that looked and him slightly veiled and unreadable, as always. Fate or not-- in this very moment he thanked God, whom he wasn’t sure if he believed in, that he was allowed to touch this heavenly being.
“Fei,” he whispered, but then he wasn’t sure what he had actually wanted to say. He was lost in those dark eyes. Everything he wanted to do, everything he could do, was to press his lips onto Fei Long’s again. They looked moist, slightly swollen and inviting, and accepted him in a repetition of the passion they had just shared.
Mikhail moaned darkly into the second kiss and Fei Long returned it as vehemently as before. Silently begging that this moment would never end, he couldn’t prevent his hands from wandering down, searching for the firm muscles underneath the linen shirt, and caressing his body tenderly. He felt Fei Long shivering under his touch, then trembling, when Mikhail’s hands slid under the fabric and started to caress the soft and warm skin that was covered by goose bumps within seconds. Now it was Fei Long who broke the kiss.
“That’s not what I brought you here for.” He said, suddenly determined, with a voice not matching his bodily reactions at all. Mikhail looked into the veiled eyes and tried to calm down his breathing and conceal his disappointment. He yearned to leave his hands where they were or even let them advance further. But he respected Fei Long’s wish and removed them reluctantly from beneath his shirt.
“What is it, then, that you brought me here for?” He asked, his breathing still ragged, with an obvious frustration in his voice. “I think it’s about time you tell me.”
Fei Long seemed to be struggling with himself, his hand ranked through Mikhail’s blond locks, his eyes darted around restlessly.
“Let me ask you something, Mikhail,” he began in a quiet, hesitant voice. “Your intentions… are they real or not?”
“What do you mean?” The Russian replied, slightly confused; the question came totally unexpected.
“That night, when you… when we slept together. Why did you come?”
“I don’t know.” Mikhail admitted and despite his helpless words, his hands were stroking Fei Long’s back reassuringly. “I didn’t intend anything in particular. I wanted to see you, I wanted to… get things right. Everything that went so terribly wrong between us.”
Fei Long sighed and moved away a little, enough to make clear that he should take his hands away.
“Only that?” Fei Long asked and by the tone of his voice, even if it still sounded calm and controlled, Mikhail could tell that he had to be careful-he was about to destroy everything.
“I only want to know one thing,” Fei Long went on, his eyes staring at the ground. “Are you honest or not?”
“Honest about what?”
“About what you convey. That I mean something to you. That it was more to you than just a one-night stand.”
“Fei,” Mikhail sighed, “I…”
“Answer!”
There it was again, the wounded beast that still mistrusted him, that was still ready to maul him at any minute. Mikhail met the gaze directed at him, which suddenly seemed hurt. He hesitated for a moment while he searched for the right words.
“Fei, I… I don’t really know myself. I am erratic and impulsive. Most of the time I am not sure why I act the way I do. I can’t really explain why I ended up at your place that night. I don’t want to pretend something I’m not sure about. I can’t tell you for sure what I’m feeling, what I want from you. But there’s one thing I can assure you- you’re not just a toy for me, not a mere adventure, not a meaningless trophy. I didn’t do it to add you to my collection or check you on my list. That night with you… meant a lot to me, it was beautiful. And that I am here with you obviously shows that it meant more to me than that.”
Fei Long examined him for a moment and Mikhail’s heart pounded hard under his impervious gaze. He had placed everything on one card and hadn’t lied to get his will like he usually did. For once he had decided to be honest, and now he would have to live with the consequences, whatever they might be.
“Half of what you just said would be enough to convince me not to waste my time with you any further.” Fei Long answered coolly. “Normally I don’t bother with people who don’t know what they want. Your thirst for adventure and tendency to risk everything at once are traits we certainly don’t share. I want security and reliability. I am not someone who speculates and takes risks.”
He took a deep breath, still looking at Mikhail. “Still I want to give you and this thing between us a chance-because I still refuse to regard it as coincidence. I know, I shouldn’t do this and I will probably regret it.”
He stopped, breaking their eye contact this time. His gaze darted across the room, as if he was looking for something he couldn’t catch. Fei Long stayed silent and Mikhail waited, anxious for what would follow, not sure whether he’d like it or not.
“I will go to Hangzhou next month, I have some business there. It’s one weekend, Friday, Saturday and Sunday. If you care about what is between us, come with me.”
There was no pleading in his voice, but not the usual, commanding tone either. It was neutral, not conveying any emotion, just a small trace of sadness in it. Once again Mikhail yearned to know this man better, to understand him better.
He had heard about Hangzhou; supposedly one of the most beautiful cities in China, the magical West Lake in its middle, surrounded by countless legends. Why Fei Long needed to go there and why he should accompany him was totally beyond him, yet his answer came without hesitation.
“I will come with you.”
Again he was dancing to Fei Long’s tune, accepting his conditions without questioning his motives. He would have to change his business plan, cancel important meetings and postpone important negotiations. But he didn’t have another choice for he felt that what Fei Long had proposed really was his last offer. He wasn’t in the place to set the conditions or to question Fei Long’s.
A smile swept across the Chinese man’s face, a smile that didn’t indicate relief, but silent reassurance. Had he been afraid that Mikhail wouldn’t accept? Why was he constantly trying to convince himself that Mikhail only saw him as an amusement?
The Russian was aware that now was the time to back away. He rose reluctantly from the armrest of Fei Long’s chair and sat down on his own, reaching for the cup of coffee. They stayed silent for a while.
“I had a wonderful day, Mikhail.” Fei Long said finally. “I have not taken a day off for a long time because I don’t know how to enjoy my free time anymore. No matter what I do, I feel restless. I think about my business, my non-existent private life, about everything I don’t have. Today, I wasn’t thinking about those things at all. I was only thinking about the two of us.”
Mikhail could have sworn his heart skipped several beats upon hearing these words. The amazingly beautiful creature sitting next to him gave him a soft look that made his knees tremble so much he was glad to be seated. He felt like a sixteen-year old on his first date. To be the reason for this look, for the hint of a smile, meant more to him than all the flattering words he had ever heard.
He returned the look, trying to express with it everything he felt for this man, even though he wasn’t entirely sure about what it was. Then he ventured to reach for Fei Long’s hand, stroked it gently and whispered, “Me too, Fei. Me too.”
…
He didn’t stay much longer after he had finished his coffee-- there wasn’t any reason for it. They had said everything that had to be said, and everything that was spoken between them afterwards was nothing but small talk.
Mikhail ordered his helicopter from Macao to fly over and pick him up, and ignored his pilot’s confused question about how he had gotten to Hong Kong. Fei Long offered him to have his driver take him to the landing field and he accepted, aware that, following Chinese courtesy, he had to do it.
“I will inform you about the details of our trip soon.” Fei Long said formally when he escorted him down across the courtyard to the car. “You will hear from me the next couple of days, Mr. Arbatov.”
Mikhail smirked upon the formal tone that Fei Long kept in front of his servants.
If only they knew how I had you under me, Fei Long, he thought, but went along playing his game.
“Thank you very much for your hospitality, Mr. Liu. Good day.”
He got into the car and didn’t turn around while they were driving through the gateway, fixing his eyes to the road. The thoughts began to race in his head when they got further and further away from Baishe. The whole day replayed in front of his inner eye, every surge of emotion that Fei Long had shown to him: the cheerful serenity, the sudden tension, the suppressed excitement, the rejection.
Two steps forward, one step back.
Of course he was disappointed that Fei Long had not allowed him to sleep with him, but it wasn’t important. He felt it had been the beginning of something new between them and he strongly hoped that they could continue along this path.
Who would have thought the night of the typhoon had triggered something, had set a new path for them? He only had to be careful, had to advance slowly and not scare away Fei Long. The scars were still to fresh, the suspicion too strong.
With Hong Kong’s evening sun warming his face, he closed his eyes and remembered the feeling of smooth, silky, jet-black hair running through his fingers.
…
Fei Long was dreaming.
Cold metal on his skin sent a horrifying shiver through his body. His eyelids were shut tight, as if this could prevent what could be about to happen.
What was awaiting him? Would it hurt? Would it take a long time? Or would he be granted a fast, painless death? Would it possibly even be pleasant to die? Would all the back and forth, the pondering, the endless circle, finally come to an end? Would he be freed from all the grueling questions? Or would death only be one step further and everything would continue, in another form?
His fingers began to tremble with tension and the cold sweat further intensified his shivering. This was the moment. He breathed in deep, sucked the cold, clear air into his vibrant lungs, probably feeling life for the very last time.
Suddenly he thought of all the people he had met in his life. Would they mourn his death? Would they regret not seeing him ever again? Would they even care?
His father’s face appeared in front of his inner eye. His critical, piercing gaze, his rigorous eyes, showing so much emotion.
Forgive me, Baba. I am not worthy of succeeding you.
There was no way out now. He had to do it. Maybe it wasn’t even the end, after all. Maybe he would do another breath and another, and many more. He just had to…
Suddenly, another feeling pierced his dream, warmth instead of cold. A hand, grasping his, removed the revolver from his clutch with a gentle force, taking it away.
“Let go, Fei.” He heard the warm and tender voice that soothed him immediately, calmed the storm inside of him and made the violent shivering subside. “Let go,” it said again, “because I don’t want you to risk your life. Don’t rely on a higher force to save you. Don’t play with yourself, Fei.”
Then he heard the deafening sound, like loud thunder, the shot that would have killed him, if the barrel was still pressed against his temple.
He opened his eyes and they met another pair, water blue, and yet full of fire.