STIDM 14

Zhong Zong quietly picked out the meat, weighed it, and paid at the counter. Whatever warm atmosphere that had lingered between them had completely vanished.

Yan Lu trailed behind, eyes fixed on Zhong Zong. His hands instinctively moved behind his back, and he nervously rubbed at his spine with the backs of his fingers. He always did that when he didn’t know what to do.

Zhong Zong had grown up with him. There was no way he didn’t know.

But Zhong Zong only gave him a faint glance before lifting the grocery bags and walking ahead. He didn’t reach out, didn’t act clingy, didn’t drag Yan Lu to his side like he used to.

Yan Lu followed a couple of steps behind and let out a breath.

He had been the one who said the wrong thing. Honestly, he knew full well whether men were creatures who thought with their lower halves.

What he was jealous of wasn’t the people Zhong Zong had taken to bed. What he couldn’t stand were the moments of vulnerability, of closeness, that he had missed out on.

And he had missed them badly.

He had been the one to push Zhong Zong away, again and again, until the distance between them had grown too wide to cross.

He wasn’t jealous of the bodies that had tangled with Zhong Zong under the sheets. He was jealous of the people who had once received his love. The warmth. The tenderness.

Those moments that could never be reclaimed.

Back then, when Zhong Zong’s family ran into trouble, he had come to Yan Lu for help. Yan Lu had mocked him. And though he regretted it, though he tried to make amends, it hadn’t been the same.

He had skipped school, climbed over the wall, and carried beer to Zhong Zong’s house.

Zhong Zong hadn’t moved out yet. His father wasn’t home that day.

Yan Lu bit down on the plastic bag, grabbed the water pipe, and climbed up to the second floor of the villa. He slipped in through the window.

He knew Zhong Zong’s room well. Yan Lu tossed the beer aside, climbed onto the bed, straddled the lump beneath the covers, and smirked, lips curling as he prepared to say something.

Then came a woman’s scream that froze him in place.

A second later, a slap struck his face.

Yan Lu staggered back and tumbled off the bed.

Looking up, he saw Zhong Zong standing at the doorway, staring at him in shock.

There were still droplets of water on his skin. He wore nothing but a pair of gray sweatpants.

In just an instant, Yan Lu understood exactly what he had walked in on. A surge of emotions he had never felt before crashed over him, overwhelming his mind. It was like he had become someone else entirely.

Anger twisted through him, and the words that spilled out of his mouth quickly lost all control. The more he spoke, the more vicious and out of line he became.

He mocked Zhong Zong, saying all those things he had confessed were nothing but weakness and fake vulnerability. At the core, he was no different from his father—just another rutting stallion who couldn’t keep it in his pants.

What was there to mourn so much? Was fucking some woman his way of honoring his dead mother?

The moment those words left his mouth, he took a brutal punch to the face.

He sat on the floor, clutching his cheek, trembling under the weight of Zhong Zong’s coldest gaze yet.

The man grabbed him by the collar, leaned down, and said just one word. The only word he had spoken from the moment he appeared until now.

“Get out.”

After that day, Yan Lu had a recurring dream.

No matter how close they got in the dream, it always ended the same way.

Zhong Zong telling him to get out.

When they were younger, the two of them would insult and mock each other, tearing each other down without holding back. It was harsh, but even then, when something went wrong, the first person they would go to was always each other. That kind of friendship, solid enough to withstand all the wear and tear, had been completely ground into dust by that single word.

“Get out.”

Blown away by the wind.

And yet, the feelings he should never have had began to surface at the worst possible time.

When Yan Lu was at his most lost and confused, having just discovered that he was an Omega, he also realized who he liked.

It was Zhong Zong.

—

The long walk home was quiet.

Yan Lu opened his mouth a few times, wanting to say something, but in the end, no words came.

He swallowed his frustration, slowly walked over to Zhong Zong’s side, and glanced at him.

He reached out and gave the plastic grocery bag a small tug. The bag rustled loudly under his fingers. Fighting off his embarrassment, he cleared his throat and said, “Hey. My arm hurts.”

Zhong Zong gave him a calm look. Yan Lu pressed his lips together and tried again. “I didn’t mean it…”

Before he could finish, Zhong Zong suddenly reached out and pulled him into an embrace.

Yan Lu froze, caught completely off guard as Zhong Zong wrapped his arms around him. The night wind rustled softly around them, but the warmth of the other’s body felt almost too much to bear.

A quiet sigh fell against the top of his head.

“Do you really find me disgusting?”

Yan Lu immediately shook his head. That wasn’t it. Not at all.

He wasn’t disgusted. He just didn’t dare to want him.

He wanted Zhong Zong so badly, but he never had the guts to reach for it.

He could only keep the feeling buried deep inside. And when it became too much to hold in, he would take it out quietly, just to taste a little bit of it.

Like a bear clinging to a pot of honey, hiding it tightly in its arms. No one else was allowed to see. No one else could touch it.

His possessiveness toward Zhong Zong had already gone too far.

And he never dared let it show.

If the jar spilled, someone else would get to enjoy it.

Zhong Zong looked down and caught sight of the back of his neck. A tattoo stretched across the skin, wild and clawing, occupying the spot where a mark should have been.

He reached out and touched it.

He reached out and touched it. Yan Lu’s body flinched under his hand. Zhong Zong traced the area in silence for a moment, then spoke in a low, husky voice.

“When did you get this? It looks kind of familiar.”

Yan Lu raised his hand to cover it. He hesitated before saying, “I got it recently.”

In fact, it was back when he first found out he was an Omega.

As for why he chose that specific design, the reason was hard to explain.

Thankfully, Zhong Zong only found it familiar. He hadn’t figured out what it really meant.

The tattoo came from an online game the two of them used to play back in the day.

Yan Lu had been a greatsword warrior. He had forced Zhong Zong to play a female mage who specialized in healing.

Every time the mage cast a healing spell, this exact symbol would appear on her back.

They had been so cringy back then. But after realizing he liked Zhong Zong, those memories felt both suffocating and full of longing.

Eventually, that led to this stupid idea.

He hadn’t done it for anyone else. He just wanted something that felt like Zhong Zong’s mark on him. Right there. At that spot.

It was incredibly foolish.

Now that he was being asked about it, Yan Lu was so mortified he quickly covered the tattoo again, not wanting Zhong Zong to look anymore.

As he moved, he accidentally tugged at his injury and let out a pained grunt.

Zhong Zong immediately stopped him from moving, gently holding him in place.

Yan Lu gave a weak laugh. “Hey, I hurt my arm, not my legs. Holding me like this doesn’t help.”

Zhong Zong gave him a sideways glance. “They’re all limbs. Doesn’t matter which.”

“Fuck off. You looking for a fight?”

“Let’s not beat up the injured, alright?”

“Even with one arm, I’ll still mess you up.”

“Sure, sure. The more you hurt yourself, the more messed up I’ll be.”

Yan Lu had no comeback for that and clamped his mouth shut.

Once they got home, Zhong Zong headed straight for the kitchen.

He had bought a bunch of pork trotters, planning to stew them for soup.

Yan Lu, hugging his own “trotter,” started nagging beside him about wanting pig trotter stew with ginger and extra eggs.

Zhong Zong didn’t even blink. “You can’t eat that much seasoning right now. Go sit and wait.”

“So much meat and you’re just making soup? That’s such a waste.”

“You’ve got a lot of meat too. I only get to lick it. Isn’t that a waste too?”

Shameless. Absolutely shameless.

Covered in dirt, Yan Lu didn’t want to stay in the kitchen any longer. He grabbed some plastic wrap from the cupboard and wrapped it around his bandaged arm before heading off to shower.

Before leaving, he told Zhong Zong he was going to borrow one of his jerseys.

It didn’t have sleeves, was oversized, and wouldn’t press against his injury.

Zhong Zong agreed, keeping his focus on prepping the pork knuckles.

Yan Lu came out of the shower, his body was still warm and flushed from the steam. His skin looked soft and slightly pink.

Dressed in a jersey clearly too big for him, the hem hanging low and loose, his nipples peeked through now and then with every movement.

Zhong Zong instantly regretted agreeing.