STIDM 7

The soft chime of the station bell rang, followed by a pleasant female voice announcing the stop. Yan Lu snapped out of his thoughts, suddenly pulled back into reality as Zhong Zong grabbed his hand and tugged him to his feet.

Their hands stayed locked. Yan Lu couldn’t help but remember the night before, right before everything began, when Zhong Zong had leaned in and quietly suggested that they just be together.

He let out a cold snort and clenched his jaw.

Fuck buddies was one thing, but who the hell wanted to get entangled with a damn butterfly who’s danced through a thousand flowers?

In the end, it just made him feel like a complete idiot. The more he thought about it, the more annoyed he felt.

They walked through a bustling food street, people greeting Zhong Zong left and right.

Zhong Zong smiled all the way, dragging him to a wonton stall and ordering the extra spicy seafood set for him.

Then he slung an arm around Yan Lu and chatted with the vendor, saying, “Add a few more wontons for him, this guy loves them.”

Yan Lu rolled his eyes silently. The stall owner paused for a moment, giving him a once-over, then let out a hearty laugh.

“Not bad. Not bad.”

Not bad, my ass. Old man, you think I didn’t catch that forced smile of yours?

Zhong Zong had just finished ordering his own bowl when Yan Lu stiffened his neck and barked, “I want dry noodles. I’m not eating wontons.”

Zhong Zong gave him a surprised glance but didn’t say anything. He simply added a portion of dry noodles, picked up the two takeout bags with one hand, and took Yan Lu’s hand again with the other, walking him home.

The place was pretty big for a single guy.

The moment they stepped inside, a large bed came into view, right in the center of the living room. Clothes were messily piled up in the closet.

There was barely any furniture, and the kitchen felt empty as hell. Remembering the busy food street they’d just walked through, Yan Lu realized that Zhong Zong must’ve been eating all his meals out there by himself for years now.

As soon as the door closed, Zhong Zong let go of his hand and tossed out casually, “Yan Yan, the study has a computer, there’s a player in the living room, the cabinet next to it has the discs. Oh, and the taller one beside it is full of magazines and manga. Make yourself at home. I’m gonna take a shower.”

The air in the apartment was clean. Just Zhong Zong’s scent lingered, no trace of any other messy AOB mix. The tight furrow in Yan Lu’s brow eased a little.

He carried the takeout to the small table, then casually strolled over to Zhong Zong’s wardrobe and glanced inside.

Didn’t see any weird clothes or toys. He looked back toward the bathroom. The light was on. Water running nonstop.

His curiosity got the better of him. He reached in and rummaged a little.

Good. No women’s clothes.

Wait. What if it’s a man’s?

Yan Lu cursed under his breath and shoved the clothes back inside. He knew he was acting out of line. What the hell was he doing digging through someone’s closet?

Even jerking off with the guy’s clothes would’ve made more sense than sneakily checking if he’d ever lived with someone else.

He slumped back down at the table in frustration. The smell of the wontons was still taunting him. He stared at them with a blank face, resisting temptation, and pulled the dry noodles toward him instead.

People change. He couldn’t possibly love wontons forever. He hated how Zhong Zong acted like he knew everything about him.

Even though he still really loved those seafood extra spicy wontons.

Before that chaotic fight broke out, it had already been a long time since they’d seen each other.

And every time they did, it was always someone new.

Gorgeous ones. Handsome ones. Delicate ones. Cute ones.

Every single one of them was good-looking. Yan Lu stuffed noodles into his mouth, bite after bite.

Slurping loudly, he grabbed a napkin and wiped the peanut sauce from his lips.

Anyway, it would never be someone like him. He knew that much.

Steam drifted out through the bathroom door as Zhong Zong stepped out, bare-chested, heat still clinging to his skin.

He casually tossed the towel over his shoulder and spotted Yan Lu stuffing dry noodles into his mouth without pause.

Amused, he walked over and placed a big hand on Yan Lu’s shoulder, ruffling his hair while teasing, “You’re seriously not eating the wontons?”

Yan Lu stayed silent as protest. That sulky expression of his only made Zhong Zong laugh harder.

Yan Lu shoved the last mouthful of noodles into his cheeks, puffed up like a hamster while he chewed. Then something wet licked his ear, and he almost choked from the shock.

The breath caught in his throat, stuck both ways, and he broke into a fit of violent coughing. Bits of dry noodles sprayed out of his mouth in every direction.

A few strands even landed right on Zhong Zong’s face.

Yan Lu froze.

Zhong Zong shut his eyes tight and slowly wiped the noodle debris from his cheek. “My bad. I’ll take the hit.”

Yan Lu’s ears flushed pink. Trying to stay calm, he grabbed a napkin and roughly wiped Zhong Zong’s face.

Then he bolted for the bathroom.

That was way too embarrassing.

His face was burning red with humiliation. He stayed under the showerhead for ages, scrubbing himself until his dark skin looked like melted chocolate with a splash of strawberry syrup before he felt satisfied enough to stop.

But just as he finished drying off and stood in front of the mirror, he realized that he forgot to bring clothes.

He rushed over to the basket and grabbed the outfit he’d changed out of earlier, but it was already soaked.

After only a second of hesitation, Yan Lu just wrapped the towel around his waist and walked out boldly like it was no big deal.

Zhong Zong had already finished the wontons. Not a single one left for him.

Now he was lounging lazily on the living room rug, one leg bent, the other sprawled out while watching TV.

His strong shoulder blades stretched out with ease, glistening with beads of water.

Wet hair clung to the back of his neck, trailing downward from his nape, across his collarbone, and down toward his chest, stopping right around the nipples.

The droplets hung there, swaying slightly before falling. One hit with a soft plop against his firm abs.

Yan Lu stood frozen, mouth dry and tongue sticking to the roof of his mouth.

Zhong Zong looked hot when he came, sure, but this kind of unintentional wet tease was something else entirely. It was dangerous.

The TV was playing a drama called Speaking from the Heart, and a woman’s voice screeched from the screen, “You still deny it? That you don’t love her? Look at your eyes. Your eyes give you away.”

Yan Lu snapped out of it with a jolt. For a moment there, he swore he felt a loud slap land right across his face.

He rubbed his burning cheeks, then looked up to see Zhong Zong grinning at him with amusement.

“You ran off in such a rush you forgot your underwear.”

Yan Lu scoffed and turned to walk over to where his bag was.

But aside from the rug in the living room, the rest of the floor was smooth tile.

And as if protesting their soaking wet bodies, the slippery surface offered zero grip.

His foot slipped, skidding awkwardly a few times before he finally struck what he believed was a cool, composed landing.

And then, with a swish, the towel around his waist dropped.

It was like something straight out of a TV drama. Blindingly embarrassing.

Zhong Zong burst into loud laughter behind him, practically rolling on the rug.

Embarassed and annoyed, Yan Lu turned and snapped, “What the fuck are you laughing at? Haven’t seen my bare ass before?”

Then he stomped over with his cold ass on full display, grabbed a pair of boxer briefs from his bag, and yanked them on.

His dignity barely restored, he sat down beside Zhong Zong with a straight face.

He snatched the remote and changed the channel, shutting off the stupid drama that kept yapping “You love her you love her you love her.”

He kicked Zhong Zong, who was still laughing, and growled, “The fuck you laughing for? Give me a massage. My back’s sore as hell. You had your fun and think you’re off the hook?”