“You smell so good, gege.”
Chu Xingxiao sounded like he was talking to himself. They were clearly using the exact same body wash—so why did Chi Zhan’s scent make him so dizzyingly addicted? It was like a drug. He just wanted to press him closer, melt him into his own body, and bury him even deeper.
Chi Zhan was utterly stunned by Chu Xingxiao’s barrage of advances. It took him a long moment to recover—but by then, things had escalated further.
Their bodies were pressed far too intimately together. Which meant… any physical reaction was instantly, unmistakably obvious.
And right now, Chi Zhan could very clearly feel that Chu Xingxiao was…
“Get off me.” Chi Zhan tried to keep his tone stern, to jolt some sense into the younger man. But Chu Xingxiao only nuzzled against his neck, rubbing up and down, then bit him lightly and muttered, “No.”
He hadn’t used much force—just a soft nip—but it sent a strange, tingling sensation rippling from the spot he’d bitten, like all the strength was being drained from Chi Zhan’s body.
It was like Chu Xingxiao had just discovered a brand new continent.
His gege… was sensitive.
He loved it.
But he couldn’t go overboard. If he pushed too far, Chi Zhan would wake up the next morning furious, humiliated, and definitely kick him out—probably for good.
So instead, Chu Xingxiao took Chi Zhan’s hand, lacing their fingers together as he coaxed gently:
“If you really don’t like it, you can tie me up.”
That delicate silk ribbon—besides blindfolding—could be used in other ways too.
And so, the night devolved into chaos.
***
The next morning was still part of their break, so Chi Zhan hadn’t set an alarm. When he finally opened his eyes, it was already bright outside. Winter mornings were always slow to dawn, and Chi Zhan was still half-asleep as he reached for his phone to check the time.
11:30 a.m.
It had been a long time since he’d slept in this late…
He rolled over, intending to drift off again, but found that the pillow in his arms felt unusually nice to hold—so smooth, so firm. He gave it another squeeze, frowning. Something felt off.
He liked hugging a pillow while sleeping, sure—but his usual pillows were stuffed with cotton, not… whatever this was. Solid and sleek. He opened his eyes—and was greeted by the half-profile of Chu Xingxiao’s face.
The younger man was fast asleep. His youthful features glowed with breathtaking beauty in the sunlight. One arm was draped casually over Chi Zhan’s waist, while Chi Zhan himself was sprawled across Chu Xingxiao’s chest—clinging to him like a life-sized body pillow.
“……”
Was his sleeping posture really… this awful?
He lay there, frozen, trying to calm himself for a full five minutes. But his mind remained blank and foggy. They’d gone to bed way too late last night—he couldn’t remember a damn thing. Chu Xingxiao stirred slightly, on the verge of waking. Faced with two options—“wake up and deal with the horrifying aftermath” or “keep pretending it never happened”—Chi Zhan made a split-second decision.
The moment Chu Xingxiao opened his eyes, Chi Zhan snapped his shut.
“…?”
He was pretty sure Chi Zhan had been awake just now.
Was he pretending to be asleep?
Chu Xingxiao hovered between “wake him up and enjoy watching gege lose his temper” and “let him keep faking and tease him a little.” Naturally, he chose the latter.
“Gege, are you awake?” he whispered, giving Chi Zhan a gentle shake.
Chi Zhan didn’t move, eyes still closed—but his long lashes trembled faintly, delicate like butterfly wings. His collar had been pulled askew during the night, revealing a stretch of pale, flawless skin that looked like whipped cream—still marked by faint red imprints from last night’s bites.
Chu Xingxiao had been careful, only nibbling softly. But after a full night, the traces remained.
He couldn’t stop staring.
No matter how long he looked, it wasn’t enough.
His chest swelled with honeyed warmth. Even though they hadn’t gone all the way last night, Chi Zhan had… helped him, albeit a little dazedly. That alone felt like a huge win.
At the very least, based on how clumsy his gege’s hands had been, Chu Xingxiao was sure—Chi Zhan had never done anything like that with his so-called “cousin.”
And later, as payback, he’d tried the ribbon on Chi Zhan too—just a little.
Gege seemed surprisingly sensitive to props…
Chu Xingxiao made a mental note to refine his technique next time. It was only the first time, after all—no one’s perfect right out of the gate.
“If you’re not awake… I’m gonna kiss you now,” he murmured to himself, before gently pressing a kiss to Chi Zhan’s lips. Then another. And another.
Until Chi Zhan couldn’t take it anymore, “woke up,” and shoved him away.
Chu Xingxiao clung to him, positively wagging an imaginary tail behind him like an overexcited puppy. He was brimming with morning energy, and Chi Zhan stiffened as he felt it—then bolted upright.
…And promptly got a headache.
“Not going back to sleep for a bit?”
Chu Xingxiao pouted, reluctant to let go of his warm, soft armful.
Chi Zhan had originally given him a separate new comforter. They were supposed to stay firmly on their own sides of the bed, separated like the Chu River and Han border. But after last night’s chaos, who could even tell whose blanket was whose? Everything was tangled into a single messy heap.
Chi Zhan didn’t reply. But when his eyes fell on a crumpled silk tie on the floor, his brain exploded.
The memories came rushing back in brutal detail.
The tangled limbs, the breathless heat, Chu Xingxiao’s clingy sweetness and unrelenting affection in the dark… and that final shameless suggestion he’d made…
“Chu Xingxiao,” Chi Zhan ground out, forcing down his embarrassment, “If you try to play dumb again—last night, you…”
“Last night?” Chu Xingxiao blinked innocently. “Judging by how well I performed, gege’s probably already forgiven me, right?”
“You—” Chi Zhan was utterly speechless, stunned into silence.
Chu Xingxiao might look sweet and obedient on the surface, but in reality, he was just hiding his fangs—waiting for Chi Zhan to drop his guard so he could pounce at the perfect moment.
By then, it’d be far too late.
“Gege, your pajama buttons came undone,” Chu Xingxiao tilted his head, voice soft and harmless as a bunny. “Want me to do them up for you?”
Chi Zhan finally snapped. “Get out!”
***
Chu Xingxiao obediently rolled out of bed.
Chi Zhan sat alone, trying to calm down. Calm down. Calm the hell down—yeah, right!
The more he thought about it, the more last night felt like pure lust-fueled madness. He was already kicking himself so hard, it felt like his guts were turning green with regret.
And it didn’t help in the slightest.
