EIP 6

The black umbrella leaned against the door, and as they passed a small bend, it tipped over, resting against Zhou Jun’s left leg. Water droplets from the silk surface soaked into his clothing, dampening his ankles. It was quiet inside the car. Zhou Jun remained unmoved and silent for a long time. Finally, after letting out a soft sigh, he moved.

Bracing himself against the seat, he curled his body as much as possible and settled onto Yong Jin’s lap. He made no effort to support himself, allowing all his weight to rest downwards. Zhou Jun’s expression was calm, showing no humiliation or frustration. His compliance was surprisingly unexpected.

The car window framed a small world, with water droplets crawling across the glass. Inside the car, a layer of mist began to form, likely due to their warm breaths. Zhou Jun felt his hips pressed against the man’s body; it was not the softness one would enjoy. With a touch of dark humor, he thought that not everyone could sit in this position. It was indeed a very rare occasion.

Yong Jin wrapped his arms around him, his hand sliding onto Zhou Jun’s knee, where there were damp marks. As his hand moved down, he touched the bare ankle. On this rainy day, Zhou Jun wore only a pair of wooden clogs. The high waterproof soles and the dark patterned leather contrasted with the loose-fitting pants beneath his long coat, allowing Yong Jin’s hand to slip easily inside.

The fabric of the pants was soft and easily folded as it slid upwards, revealing his calves. Yong Jin’s fingers brushed against the damp skin, still separated by the glove he wore. Today, he was dressed in a suit, with a dark handkerchief stuffed into the pocket. It was clearly meant for decoration, yet he asked Zhou Jun pull it out.

It was only with the next movement that Zhou Jun realized the purpose of the handkerchief. His wooden clogs kicked under the chair, his foot caught and resting on the black leather seat. His hips remained firmly on the hard man’s lap, his back pressed against the door. The sound of rain drummed against the vehicle, gradually growing faster, as if the downpour had intensified. The outside world became increasingly indistinct.

Zhou Jun furrowed his brows as he watched Yong Jin use the handkerchief to wipe the water off his leg. The cloth moved from his kneecap down to his calf, rubbing back and forth a few times before tracing circles around his ankle. There was a small mole there, red and not particularly noticeable, resembling a tiny wound. In the dim weather, the pale blue interior of the car highlighted that little spot. Yong Jin lowered his gaze and commented that it was beautiful.

Zhou Jun fell silent, unsure why a strange sense of awkwardness had crept in. He reached out and took Yong Jin’s hand, gently pulling it toward him. A crack of thunder sounded in the distance, followed by a flash of lightning that lit up the inside of the car. Bit by bit, he tugged at the glove on Yong Jin’s hand, fingers brushing the ring on his middle finger as he slowly slipped it off.

He saw again the hand that had once appeared before him, pale and bloodless, like a sculpture. It looked cold but felt warm to the touch. Yong Jin did not stop him from crossing the line, merely holding a vague and shallow smile, as if he were embracing a toy, indulging him.

Zhou Jun held his hand with a playful smile. A moment later, he bared his perfect teeth, ready to bite down on Yong Jin’s fingertip with the same casual force one might use on a snack, bold and unrestrained. But he was no match for Yong Jin’s quick reflexes. Not only did he miss the bite, he was grabbed by the face and shoved hard against the window.

The sound of his head hitting the glass rang out. Pain radiated from the spot, and Yong Jin’s expression shifted. The usual interest was gone. So was the predator’s amused gaze. In its place was something colder—an empty, indifferent stare, as if he were looking at a stranger.

He knew he had angered this person. The grip on his cheek was strong enough that it might leave a mark later on. Despite the inopportune setting, strange thoughts couldn’t help but surface. In another clap of thunder, Zhou Jun slowly extended his tongue and left a small, damp lick on Yong Jin’s palm.

Yong Jin’s gaze was peculiar. His eyes were incredibly deep, as if clouds and rain were swirling inside them. He did not blink, and the sounds of the busy world around them seemed to fall away. That finger still held Zhou Jun’s chin in place.

For some reason, Zhou Jun felt a strange urge to close his eyes. What was this sensation? There was something in the air, something quiet and unspoken, telling him that they might kiss. That they were meant to. If Yong Jin had been a woman, he would have been the kind with an unyielding will. Perhaps even a spoiled girl who always expected men to bend to her.

Yong Jin clearly had a bad temper. If he didn’t, he wouldn’t have fired that shot and sent Zhou Jun tumbling from the second floor of the villa into the mud below. The suit was ruined and never got cleaned. In the end, he had the housemaid throw it out.

Yong Jin withdrew his hand. It was a gradual process, almost as if each finger was being pulled away. Perhaps it had been held for too long, and when released, it felt tinglingly numb. Zhou Jun poked his tongue against the roof of his mouth, feeling unexpectedly disappointed.

Soon, he found his thoughts to be quite strange. Disappointed that Yong Jin hadn’t kissed him? That was absurd. He remained seated on Yong Jin’s lap, barefoot. Stealing glances at the man’s expression, he noticed it had returned to normal. There was no anger, nor did he tell him to leave.

Zhou Jun shifted slowly, trying to get off the firm body beneath him. Lying on top of a soldier like that was neither comfortable nor appropriate. But just as he began to move, Yong Jin’s hands came up again. This time, both gripped his waist and lifted him without warning.

The other wooden sandal on his foot slipped off, making a soft, crisp sound as it hit the ground. He found himself completely nestled in Yong Jin’s arms. His cheek pressed against the fabric of the shirt, with the stiff collar slightly jutting out. Above that was a perfectly shaped chin and lips. The stubble had just been shaved, leaving a faint blue tint on the man’s jaw. Suddenly, those lips moved: “What are you looking at?”

Zhou Jun shook his head and sighed, curling up both legs. The seat’s leather surface felt cool and smooth to the touch. Yong Jin absentmindedly stroked him, much like one would a cat.

He touched his ear, his hair, his spine, and his leg, even the mole. This time, it was with bare hands, no longer through gloves. The lines on Yong Jin’s palm were deep, and his fingertips were rough. As they rubbed against Zhou Jun’s skin, it felt not only warm but also slightly ticklish. Feeling uneasy, Zhou Jun grabbed Yong Jin’s hand and put the gloves back on him.

He began climbing back into his seat. This time, no one got in his way. The posture was awkward, his backside raised and arms stretched forward as he crawled. The floor beneath the chair was dusty, and he tried to avoid touching it with his hands. Maybe he looked too ridiculous, or maybe the position was too suggestive, because Yong Jin reached out again. His hand slid from the nape of Zhou Jun’s neck down to his tailbone and gave it a light tap.

Zhou Jun, annoyed, sat back in his seat. He had one shoe on, while the other was still with Yong Jin. He considered bending down to pick it up, but worried that he’d hear another comment about the missing tail. After some thought, he fixed his gaze on Yong Jin’s feet and said, “My shoe.”

Major Yong naturally crossed his legs. “Didn’t see it,” he said, clearly not intending to help him pick it up. Zhou Jun held back his frustration, reminding himself that this was someone he couldn’t afford to offend. So, he bent down closer to the man’s legs, reaching out to grab the shoe. But his wrist was caught.

Yong Jin tapped Zhou Jun’s wrist bone with his finger and said, “Before you put on your shoe, how about wearing something first?”

Zhou Jun stared at him for a moment, suspicion flickering in his eyes, then slowly settled back into his seat. After thinking it over, he decided to play along with Yong Jin’s little game, but only on his own terms. If Yong Jin wanted to be entertained, he would have to meet a few conditions of his own.

Bracing himself against the chair, Zhou Jun lifted his foot and rested it on Yong Jin’s knee. In the swaying car, he tilted his face slightly, a playful and faintly smug smile forming on his lips.

“Alright,” he said, “but you’ll be the one putting it on for me.”