APR 16

That night, Zhong Su tossed and turned for a long time before finally managing to fall asleep.

Chen Huan kept his promise. Since Zhong Su had clearly stated he disliked being touched by men, Chen Huan never crossed the line again.

The two still ate and lived together, chatting about daily trivialities, but Zhong Su could keenly sense a subtle change—Chen Huan’s way of treating him was different from before, becoming more ambiguous and deliberately intimate.

For instance, when handing him water, Chen Huan would intentionally brush against his fingertips; when walking side by side, he would lean in closer, whether intentionally or not; and even when turning over at night, his arm would cross the boundary, resting near Zhong Su’s waist.

Each touch felt like a silent probe, gently asking, “Can you bear it? Can you endure it? Can you go a little further?”

Yet, Chen Huan managed to perfectly control the degree of closeness—close enough to feel body heat, yet distant enough to feign nonchalance. Even if Zhong Su wanted to get angry at him, he couldn’t find a reason.

This frustration had been building up for a long time.

On this day, it was Zhong Su’s turn to cook. He rinsed the celery under running water and carefully chopped it into pieces. With each rise and fall of the knife, the blade made crisp, rhythmic sounds against the cutting board.

As the celery was cut into sections, Zhong Su stared at the fresh, moist cross-sections and paused slightly. He couldn’t help but recall that humid and awkward night, the sharp shark-like teeth of Chen Huan, and the occasional flash of stark white between his crimson lips and tongue.

【—You enjoyed it too.】

As if pricked by a fine needle, Zhong Su shuddered, his ears growing warm.

He lowered his gaze, and when his eyes landed on the slight bulge in his pants, his expression darkened.

At that moment, the oblivious Chen Huan walked into the kitchen, reaching for the dish rack. His fingertips inadvertently brushed against Zhong Su’s arm as he said, “Su Er, move aside a bit. I need to get the bowls and chopsticks.”

The touch was so light and fleeting it was almost imperceptible.

Zhong Su’s hand, holding the knife, stilled. A surge of inexplicable anger flared within him, and he said coldly, “Can’t you be more careful? The counter is so spacious. Do you have to squeeze right next to me?”

As soon as the words left his mouth, he froze—half of that sharp tone was annoyance, while the other half seemed like panic rising from the depths of his heart.

Chen Huan, baffled by the scolding, leaned against the counter and gave up on retrieving the plates. He looked down at Zhong Su and asked, “Are you angry with me?”

Zhong Su knew his reaction was excessive. He looked at the composed Chen Huan, his emotions churning in turmoil. Throwing down the kitchen knife, he said stiffly, “Yes, because you annoy me.”

“Why do I annoy you?”

The young man with the broken eyebrow let out a light laugh. Crossing his arms, he seemed to see right through Zhong Su as he said slowly and deliberately, “Is it just because I touched you?”

He paused intentionally, the curve of his lips deepening. “Su Er, do you hate it when I touch you, or do you hate remembering how it felt when I touched you before?”

Zhong Su was left speechless. He instinctively turned his head away and said, “It has nothing to do with that. You’re just annoying.”

His defenseless demeanor naturally didn’t escape Chen Huan’s notice.

“Heh…” The young man with the broken eyebrow pressed closer from behind, his thumb pressing against the prominent bone in Zhong Su’s neck, then sliding beneath his collar to knead with just the right amount of pressure.

Zhong Su stiffened, his fingers trembling slightly. An indescribable tingling sensation spread from his ears.

Chen Huan nibbled on his earlobe, his voice low and husky: “Su Er, want to… go another round?”

Zhong Su’s gaze fell on Chen Huan’s hand, the one that was leisurely pinning down his own, the golden-brown wheat complexion starkly contrasting with his own pale skin, creating an explicit and provocative image.

After a moment of silence, Zhong Su closed his eyes briefly before reopening them, his voice inexplicably dry: “Let’s eat first. We can talk after dinner.”

After washing up post-meal, the two fell into a familiar rhythm. The moment they entered the room, Chen Huan pressed Zhong Su onto the bed and began removing his clothes.

…

Zhong Su lay on his back, chest heaving violently as he gasped for air. His pants had been pulled down to his knees, revealing a stretch of thigh skin that glistened with a dewy sheen.

His dazed eyes watched as Chen Huan straddled him. The handsome young man lifted his black T-shirt with his teeth, exposing his taut groin and pectoral muscles while panting heavily.

Chen Huan let out a deep sigh: “Su Er, I’m going to die from pleasure.”

He collapsed onto Zhong Su’s stomach, pressing his full weight against him, then grabbed his chin and kissed him, murmuring indistinctly: “Had I known it’d feel this good, we should’ve done this sooner.”

Having already engaged in biting, kissing now felt like a natural progression, something completely ordinary.

“Ha—” Zhong Su’s mouth was suddenly blocked as Chen Huan captured his tongue, grinding and sucking until it sparked a shiver-inducing sting.

Zhong Su grunted, yanking Chen Huan’s hair to pull him back: “Stop, why are you biting…”

But Chen Huan paid no heed, instead intensifying his suction on the tongue.

The kiss tasted bitter and metallic, devoid of sweetness, yet the two remained intimately entangled.

After what felt like an eternity, Zhong Su finally broke free from Chen Huan’s embrace with difficulty. Sitting up, he smoothed his hair and said: “I’m burning up.”

As if struck by a heatwave, Zhong Su’s face was flushed crimson, sweat continuously trickling from his temples onto the bedsheet.

Wiping his face with his arm, Zhong Su glanced down at himself and declared: “I need another shower. Too sweaty to sleep.”

He stood up, then paused hesitantly, telling Chen Huan: “Don’t fall asleep yet. Later, after my shower… we need to talk.”

Chen Huan’s lips curved into a smile, as if he’d anticipated Zhong Su’s hesitation: “Go ahead. I’ll wait.”

Avoiding his gaze, Zhong Su somewhat awkwardly opened the door and left.

Entering the bathroom, Zhong Su turned on the faucet.

As warm water cascaded over his body, his rationality gradually returned. He lifted his eyes to his reflection: bangs soaked with sweat clung damply to his cheeks, his skin tinged with a delicate flush from arousal.

His gaze traveled downward, where several semi-dried splotches dotted his abdomen.

Though he appeared thoroughly disheveled, he inexplicably radiated an arresting sensuality.

Remembering the sensation of Chen Huan’s heated hardness rubbing against him, Zhong Su’s face alternated between pale and green. Pressing his temples with a headache, he sighed deeply: “I’ve really… gone mad. I’m losing my mind along with that guy.”

At this point, Zhong Su no longer understood his own thoughts. If the first time was unwilling, what did this second time signify?

But regardless of his inner turmoil, one fact remained crystal clear: having voluntarily accepted Chen Huan’s advances, he no longer had any grounds to show resistance.

Zhong Su patted his face, rinsed off the sweat and stickiness with water, then grabbed a towel from the rack to dry himself, restoring a sense of freshness.

“Hoo—” He took a deep breath, trying to maintain a calm exterior as he walked back to the room.

“Alright, we can talk now.” Zhong Su pushed the door open to find Chen Huan lounging lazily against the headboard.

Chen Huan held a cigarette between his fingers, pressing it to his brow, while his other hand gripped a heavy mobile phone, instructing the person on the other end: “…Shou Hou, keep a close watch, and Da Xiong too. Handle it the usual way—don’t let anyone who causes trouble in the venue get away.”

“…”

The person on the other end seemed to say something, and Chen Huan frowned impatiently: “Fine, deal with it as you see fit. Su Er and I will be back soon.”

As he spoke, Chen Huan glanced up and noticed Zhong Su, gesturing for him to come closer: “Come here, Su Er.”

Zhong Su sat on the edge of the bed, acutely aware of the intense presence behind him, the tension in his heart slowly tightening. He wanted to talk, but he wasn’t sure what exactly he wanted to say?

He rehearsed several scripts in his mind, but none felt appropriate, discarding them one after another.

Chen Huan soon finished the call, pressed the end button, and casually tossed the phone into the open suitcase nearby.

Then, he turned to Zhong Su, waiting for him to speak.

Not wanting to dive straight in, Zhong Su brought up another topic: “I heard your call just now, someone’s causing trouble at the venue again? Speaking of which… it’s been a long time since we’ve seen Shou Hou and the others. I wonder how they’re doing.”

Chen Huan showed no concern: “Didn’t ask. As long as they’re not dead, it’s fine.”

He looked at Zhong Su, his gaze sweeping over his hazel eyes and the small red mole on his wrist, then slowly exhaled a plume of smoke. He offered the lit cigarette to Zhong Su’s lips and said, “Take a drag.”

The cigarette tip glowed crimson under the dim light, its heat almost tangible.

Zhong Su’s heart tightened, feeling that the dark-skinned youth before him seemed unnervingly unfamiliar.

To ease the discomfort, he calmly bit the cigarette filter and took a deep drag: “Cough, cough!”

The harsh smoke instantly irritated his windpipe, burning his chest like fire.

Chen Huan chuckled lowly, the corners of his eyes curving into sharp arcs, a faint glimmer in his gaze. “Well, I gave you plenty of time. Have you figured it out in the bathroom just now? Su Er.”

Zhong Su felt as if something was stuck in his throat. He opened his mouth, then pressed his lips together, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he said, “I’m not sure if that kind of… touching was right. It doesn’t feel normal.”

“But,” he unconsciously pinched his index finger, “I did find it… somewhat pleasurable.”

He justified it to himself inwardly: It was only because of the tedious days in this small room, the pent-up desires with no outlet, the pressure of being targeted for revenge… all these factors pressing down, forcing the two of them into this situation.

This behavior was wrong, crossing a line.

…Yet, it wasn’t entirely incomprehensible.

Chen Huan scrutinized Zhong Su unabashedly, leisurely exhaling the last puff of smoke before standing to stub out the cigarette in the ashtray on the table.

In that same motion, his arm casually wrapped around Zhong Su, pulling him into an embrace that felt both unintentional and meticulously planned, like a long-awaited net closing in.

“So you’re actually enjoying this.” Chen Huan sighed meaningfully: “Su Er, should I take this as your consent for me to touch you?”

Zhong Su only felt an itch where Chen Huan made contact, not the heart-pounding, fluttery kind of itch, but one that made his hair stand on end, an excessively intimate sensation that creeped him out as a straight man.

Zhong Su shifted uncomfortably, brushing away Chen Huan’s hand as he added: “It’s just here, under these current circumstances – I can accept us helping each other out.”

He paused, emphasizing his words: “Once we leave this place and our minds are clear again… we won’t have these messy thoughts anymore.”

“Hah, that’s fine too.”

Chen Huan neither agreed nor disagreed, instead biting down on a small patch of skin at Zhong Su’s neck, grinding it lingeringly with his teeth as he said cheerfully: “Since you’ve come around, we might as well go another round. The last time wasn’t satisfying enough.”

Zhong Su’s brow twitched, but before he could say anything, Chen Huan had already pressed forward, pinning him down on the bedding.

“Wait a moment,” Zhong Su hurriedly said, “I just took a shower!”

Chen Huan smiled faintly: “You can take another one after we’re done.”

The already sweltering summer night grew even more sticky and prolonged due to Chen Huan’s persistence.