EIP 13

“The first time you saw me?” Zhou Jun repeated. The question sounded almost meaningful, but it struck him as insincere. Their first encounter had been anything but romantic, full of eavesdropping and accusations of infidelity. Their identities had clashed from the start. Zhou Jun did not believe that, in that moment, Yong Jin had been thinking about whether silk looked good on him.

Outside the bathroom was the guest bedroom. A soft white bed stood in the middle of a deep blue carpet. Zhou Jun stepped out barefoot, moving slowly. His legs were still stiff from his injuries. Wet footprints trailed behind him as he walked across the floor and sat down on the bed. He leaned against the headboard and pulled his legs onto the mattress, curling them into the soft bedding. Only then did he truly feel the exhaustion settling into his bones after everything he had endured.

His scraped hands had soaked in water, and the skin had begun to wrinkle and blister, a thin layer of white foam forming over the abrasions. Zhou Jun frowned at the sight, finding it unpleasant. Yong Jin returned with the medicine, pulled up a chair, and sat down beside the bed. He gestured for Zhou Jun to show his injuries so he could apply the ointment.

Zhou Jun did not respond. Instead, he turned and leaned against the headboard, his slightly damp hair brushing against the pillow. Yong Jin watched as Zhou Jun, still flushed from the bath, looked up at him through half-lidded eyes. Zhou Jun reached toward the bedside lamp and gently tugged at the cord. The light clicked on and off, then stayed on.

In the dim glow, Zhou Jun’s figure seemed to soften. Yong Jin reached out and took his hand, holding it gently in front of him. Both the back of Zhou Jun’s hand and his palm were scraped and raw. Yong Jin slowly began to straighten his fingers. Just as he was distracted and reaching for the medicine, Zhou Jun’s hand slipped free. Instead of pulling away, his fingers rose and lightly touched Yong Jin’s face.

The lamp illuminated his eyes, turning them a dark, almost blue shade. The pattern of his irises and his slightly dilated pupils were clearly visible, full of emotion. Reflected in them was Yong Jin’s face, sharply defined.

Zhou Jun’s fingertips brushed over Yong Jin’s cheek. His skin felt cool and smooth, and the contrast with Zhou Jun’s warm hand made it oddly soothing. Zhou Jun traced his brow, followed the curve of his eyes, then his nose, and finally his lips. When his finger paused at the edge of Yong Jin’s lower lip, he felt a faint tremble.

Yong Jin’s gaze became more intense as he grasped Zhou Jun’s wrist. His voice was rough and low.

“Doesn’t it hurt anymore?”

Zhou Jun seemed confused at first, then gave a small nod after briefly shaking his head.

“It hurts,” he said softly, a faint note of complaint in his voice. He pointed at Yong Jin’s lip with his finger. “Why were you there? Were you following me?”

Yong Jin smiled. “Mr. Zhou, I was just passing by.”

He lowered Zhou Jun’s hand and applied the medicine to the wound. The sting and itch spread instantly.

“Do you think I’m following you?” he asked.

Zhou Jun’s expression was unreadable. “Maybe,” he replied. He said nothing more. Instead, he sat up and loosened the belt of his robe.

It was a golden robe. The smooth fabric slipped from his shoulders, sliding down his arms and pooling at his wrists. He sat there exposed, bare from his neck to his ankles.

His chest showed two faint marks, and between his legs was a patch of dark hair. His clothing no longer concealed anything. He smiled slowly.

“Major Yong, I appreciate you tending to all my injuries.”

Yong Jin’s face tensed slightly. He frowned and stepped forward, then reached out and flipped Zhou Jun over. Zhou Jun braced himself on the bed, face down, his knees pressing into the mattress. The robe still covered his hips, but his upper body was completely bare. Yong Jin poured disinfectant onto his back. The cold liquid spread across his skin, sharp and biting.

Zhou Jun clutched the pillow tightly. His brow furrowed as he endured the pain. After a while, he opened his mouth to speak.

“Major Yong, you clearly aren’t interested in men. So why do you keep provoking me?”

Yong Jin’s hand stopped. The cotton ball he held rested motionless against Zhou Jun’s back.

Zhou Jun adjusted his position slightly, resting more comfortably on his arms. His voice came muffled from the crook of his elbow.

“I’ve always wondered why you keep making me turn away from you. Now I understand. You really do treat me like a woman. What does that mean? Is it because of Shirley? Are you trying to humiliate me?”

His voice grew louder and almost playful as he laughed.

“You can’t be that boring. So what’s the real reason? Just be honest with me.”

Before he could say anything else, a hand gripped the back of his neck. Yong Jin held him there for a second, then moved his hand to Zhou Jun’s head, gently rubbing his hair and the curve of his ear. He tilted Zhou Jun’s face up toward him.

“Do you think this is humiliation?”

Zhou Jun reached out and wrapped his arms around him.

“No,” he whispered. “I think it’s seduction.”

He pulled Yong Jin toward him. His body curved upward, wrapping around Yong Jin’s frame like water vines, soft and pliant but holding tight. When their lips met, they were warm, just as he had imagined. Zhou Jun let out a faint sigh, parting his lips slightly. He tilted his head, deepening the kiss with practiced ease.

Yong Jin’s lips remained shut, tense and unyielding. Zhou Jun gently pressed forward, brushing his nose against Yong Jin’s cheek. He slid his tongue forward, trying to coax Yong Jin’s mouth open. Suddenly, his hair was yanked back. Fingers tightened at the back of his head.

Their lips tore apart. A string of moisture still connected them, glistening in the low light. Zhou Jun winced from the pain but smiled anyway. He stretched out his tongue to catch the strand and slowly drew it back into his mouth.

“The taste of the major general is quite nice,” he murmured.

Yong Jin’s expression shifted. His face was cold, unreadable, but his lips—kissed red—betrayed the heat beneath his calm exterior.

Zhou Jun could not tell whether Yong Jin was offended or simply disgusted. Then, in the next moment, he understood.

Yong Jin kissed him again. This time, the kiss was rough and overwhelming, stripped of any politeness. Zhou Jun was shoved backward. His bare back slammed into the wooden headboard. The kiss took his breath away. His mind turned foggy as hoarse moans slipped from their lips.

Yong Jin’s hand moved down, wrapping around Zhou Jun’s neck. The grip tightened gradually. The kisses became harsher, almost biting. Somewhere in the blur, Zhou Jun tasted blood.

The pressure on his throat began to suffocate him. Instinctively, he pushed at Yong Jin’s hand. Just as the darkness began to close in, the grip suddenly loosened. Air flooded back into his lungs. He gasped, chest rising and falling, while Yong Jin’s lips trailed down to his jaw, then to his neck. There, he bit down hard.

The robe on Zhou Jun’s chest was pushed aside. His nipples stiffened under the sudden chill. He could feel Yong Jin’s breath, hot and ragged, hovering just above his skin. A tension gripped Zhou Jun’s abdomen as he watched Yong Jin’s lips draw closer. His body trembled, caught between fear and anticipation.

Then, just as something was about to happen, the phone in the room rang.