Li Hao, who had been desperate to use the restroom moments ago, suddenly lost all urgency when he saw the scene before him. Maybe it was the alcohol making him emotional, or maybe it was everything he'd been remembering—but he knew alcohol rarely affected him this way.
He looked up at Wang Lai, eyes glassy, lips trembling in horror.
"Li Hao," Wang Lai said softly, reaching out to him.
"Don't touch me," Li Hao snapped, jerking away before stumbling toward the exit—half sober, half drunk.
Wang Lai ran a shaky hand through his hair, his chest tightening with guilt. He didn't fully understand why, but deep down he knew he had done something terribly wrong. He tried to run after Li Hao, but the man he'd been with held onto him. Wang Lai shoved him off angrily, realizing in that moment that every trace of desire for sex had vanished.
Outside the bar, he caught sight of Li Hao getting into a taxi. Without thinking, he sprinted to his car and followed closely behind.
In the taxi, Li Hao curled up on the seat, sobbing quietly. When the cab stopped in front of his apartment, he stepped out, shoulders slumped and face downcast.
Wang Lai parked a short distance away, watching him in silence.
"Uh, Li Hao?" a familiar voice called.
It was Yuhan. He had been heading into the building when he noticed the car pull up. Turning, he saw Li Hao's tear-streaked face and immediately sensed that something was wrong.
"Li Hao," he said again, approaching him quickly sensing he needed support.
Without hesitation, Li Hao wrapped his arms around Yuhan, clinging tightly as if trying to keep himself from falling apart. Yuhan held him close, steadying them both as he stroked Li Hao's hair in comfort.
The last time he'd seen Li Hao cry like this was when his mother died—and later, when his first and only relationship ended. Yuhan knew better than to ask questions now. Li Hao never cried unless the pain ran deep.
From afar, Wang Lai stood frozen, unsure whether the tears he'd caused could ever be forgiven.
Moments later, Li Hao had fallen asleep in Yuhan's arms, exhaustion mixed with heartbreak. Yuhan carried him into the elevator, cradling him gently.
Down the hall, Zixuan paced outside his door but stopped when he saw Yuhan struggling with the keycard.
"Need help?" Zixuan asked, walking over.
"No, I've got him," Yuhan replied firmly, but when the card failed to scan, Zixuan reached over.
"I'll handle it," he said, punching in the password.
"Thanks," Yuhan muttered quickly before shutting the door right in Zixuan's face.
"Eish," Zixuan hissed under his breath.
Inside, Yuhan laid Li Hao carefully on the bed, removing his shoes and coat. Then he sat at the edge for a moment, brushing the damp hair from his friend's forehead, silently wishing he could protect him from whatever had broken him this time.