Ethan was a underprivileged student I sponsored in the past. After I discovered him using my pajamas to satisfy himself, I decisively applied for an overseas assignment. The fair, handsome boy clung to my leg, crying miserably: "Bro, I promise I'll never do that again..." "Don't hate me, don't leave me..." I pulled away cruelly. Once I left, it was for eight years. When we met again, the boy had transformed into a tech billionaire. I raised my wine glass, smiling ingratiatingly: "Ethan, about the tech partnership, can we discuss it again?" Ethan slowly turned the ring on his ring finger: "Are you begging me now?" "Then you should know... how to beg a man, right?" Chapter 1 My smile froze. The platinum ring refracted a silvery-white light, stinging my eyes. He got married? Makes sense, he's so outstanding after all. Ethan had no intention of raising the glass in front of him: "Mr. Thorne, haven't you heard how others at the table address me?" I thought calling him "Ethan" would bring us closer. Didn't expect him not to buy it. I quickly corrected myself: "My apologies, Mr. Vance is young and promising..." "Enough." Ethan interrupted my flattery. He pointed his chin at the expensive Louis XIII on the table. "Mr. Thorne, this project is handled by Mr. Chen from my company. He doesn't have many hobbies, just likes to drink the good stuff." "You keep him happy tonight, and we'll talk about the project tomorrow." In the eight years apart from Ethan, I worked myself to death. Climbed from a small supervisor to the Vice President of the group. No one dared to boss me around like Ethan anymore. The guests at the table looked at me with surprise. I bit the bullet and kept smiling: "Of course, I'll definitely take good care of Mr. Chen tonight." Half an hour later. The strong liquor was bottomed out. My stomach was burning. Ethan, on the side, didn't touch a drop. He just smoked one cigarette after another. Narrowing his beautiful phoenix eyes as if watching a play, enjoying my sorry state. I couldn't hold it anymore. Got up and rushed into the bathroom, vomiting my guts out. Then washed my face with cold water again and again. After a long while, I looked up, and there was another person in the mirror. Ethan had appeared behind me at some point. Tilting his head to light a cigarette. Even his hair strands exuded laziness and unruliness. "Mr. Thorne can't handle his liquor." I wiped my face: "Mr. Vance is laughing at me." He paced slowly behind me. Hands pressed on both sides of the sink. His long arms trapped me in the cramped space. Those bottomless black eyes stared at my flushed cheeks through the mirror. "Actually, I'm very curious, why would Mr. Thorne stoop so low to personally accompany clients?" "For a small project worth peanuts, Mr. Thorne shouldn't even look at it." I smiled: "To tell you the truth, money's tight lately, I'm broke." Ethan smiled too: "Oh? Since that's the case, Mr. Thorne should show some sincerity." I didn't want to play riddles with him: "Mr. Vance, please be clear, what counts as sincerity?" He turned his head and exhaled smoke: "Mr. Thorne has risen rapidly these years." "Since you're good at the wine table, you must be good elsewhere too, right?" When he said this, he pressed rudely against my back. Been in the business world for a long time. Inevitably harassed by restless old rich men, I handled them smoothly. But when the opponent became Ethan, I was actually a bit embarrassed. I pretended to be choked by his smoke. Moved slightly away, then joked as if nothing happened: "If I were a girl, meeting someone as excellent as Mr. Vance, I might just give in, but I'm a man..." "What's wrong with being a man?" Ethan pinched my chin, turning the angle, as if appreciating seriously. "Rare to find a man as good-looking as Mr. Thorne." My old face blushed. Struggled, couldn't break free. Suddenly realized, the thin and frail boy in my memory had grown into an adult taller than me, full of oppression. Ethan pulled a silk handkerchief from his suit pocket. Shook it open. Slowly wiped the water stains on my face. His gaze was presumptuous and frank. Patrolling my lips and collar. Staring until my spine went cold. I snatched the silk handkerchief from his hand: "No wonder people say Mr. Vance is aloof and hard to please, looks like it's true..." A smile climbed from the corner of his mouth to his eyes, he said: "Look, didn't you just please me?" "Actually, you understand me best, don't you, Bro?" Chapter 2 This "Bro". Made my brain go blank for a full three seconds. Eight years. In a trance, I saw the boy from eight years ago again. Smiling brightly, full of pride. Stuffing an express mail he couldn't bear to open into my hand: "Bro, you open it." I smiled and opened the envelope. Found an admission letter from a top university inside. My eyes got hot, rubbed his head: "Ethan, good job." Luckily I saw potential in this child back then. Luckily I persisted in sponsoring him for six years. What a pity it would be if such a talented boy was buried in a poor remote area forever? At that time, he wasn't as tall as me. Pushed my hand away a bit unhappily: "Don't touch my head, I'm not a puppy." I teased him on purpose: "What? As a brother, I'm not qualified to smooth your fur?" "Raised you for nothing all these years." Hearing this, Ethan was even more unhappy: "Didn't raise me for nothing, I'll make money to support you in the future." I was disdainful: "Who cares about your peanuts." A careless joke, Ethan actually held a grudge for so many years. I staggered to the parking lot. Waiting for a designated driver in my car. Something fell out of my pocket. Picked it up to look. It was a key card for a five-star hotel. Almost at the same time, a message popped up on my phone, cherishing words like gold: [Bro, I'm only in Seattle for three days.] Chapter 3 We're all adults. Some things don't need to be said explicitly. Ethan was telling me: I only have three days left to "please" him. Expiration date applies. I slumped heavily against the seat back, rubbing my brow irritably. A frame from the past flashed weirdly before my eyes. A narrow door crack. A dim bedroom. I saw Ethan with his knees bent, lying on the bed. One hand clutching a piece of black fabric, sniffing deeply under his nose. The other hand busy non-stop. Heaving chest. Rapid gasping. Actually aroused my romantic thoughts. I was startled by myself, turned and fled. But heard a suppressed low call from the door crack behind me. "Liam..." "Bro..." I was struck by lightning, couldn't sleep all night. What was more fatal was. Early the next morning, I found two pairs of freshly washed CKs drying on the balcony. The white ones were Ethan's. The black ones were mine, the ones he clutched in his hand last night. I had insomnia for a week. Finally submitted an application for assignment to an overseas branch. Ethan cried and begged me: "Bro, I was wrong." "If you think I'm disgusting, I'll change." "I won't like you anymore, is that okay?" "Please don't abandon me, don't go..." I was unmoved. Left for eight years. The living expenses regularly credited every month became the only connection between us. Ethan thought I was disgusted by him. Actually, I was disgusted by myself. I'm a closeted gay man! And Ethan hadn't seen the outside world yet. His feelings for me were nothing more than imprinting. What bullshit love? My phone suddenly lit up in the dark car. A message from Nono's mom popped up on the screen: [Mr. Thorne, sorry to disturb you so late.] [Nono wants to talk to you, is it convenient?] I adjusted my emotions and called back. A little girl's tender voice came from the receiver: "Daddy, I didn't cry at all when getting the shot today." "Daddy, am I super brave?" Chapter 4 Been busy with work lately. I did neglect that poor little girl. The next day. I bought fruits and snacks, went specifically to the hospital to visit her. Nono was lively and cute. Unfortunately, she suffered from late-stage neuroblastoma at such a young age. Medical expenses were like a bottomless pit. In just one year, almost all my savings were spent. This is... The real reason why I must get Ethan's project. I accompanied Nono for her shot. And carried her downstairs to sunbathe. Nono's mom followed smilingly. Before parting, Nono held my finger, reluctant to let go: "Daddy, play with Nono a little longer." Nono's mom quickly corrected: "This is Uncle Liam, not your daddy." Then apologized to me with an embarrassed smile: "Mr. Thorne, the doctor said this disease affects the brain, please don't mind." "It's okay," I touched the little girl's cheek, "Nono be good, Uncle will come see you another day." She obediently let go, waving at me: "Okay, bye Daddy!" Just at this moment. A familiar figure stopped not far away: "Bro?"
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