Chapter Text
Later, Sheng Shaoyou would blame it on the alcohol. He hadn’t meant to drink past his limits, always careful to keep himself in check when rubbing elbows with high society. News traveled fast in these parts, and one wrong move could cost Sheng Fang Biotech billions in losses.
A word, a look, laughing out of turn.
The stock market ebbed and flowed like the most volatile of waters, and he was a young sailor adrift an endless churning sea, battered to the point of death but stubbornly clinging on.
His father had been in poor health for a while and often sent him to the trenches to manage his affairs. This dinner was just one in the dozen he’d been forced to attend in the past month. Nothing special about it, only that it was in Country P.
Sheng Shaoyou had been in so many of these events that hardly anything phased him. It was a theater production that verged on satire. People came in their finest to talk business and mingle. Occasionally, some petty fight would break out because someone had a little too much to drink. The floor would be glittering by the end of the night as pearls and gold slipped unnoticed from the perfume-scented wrists of rich madams.
Sheng Shaoyou was only twenty-two. Fresh out of business school, he was the youngest face in attendance. He was the one with the least experience, and these sharks in the water all knew it too, waiting to smell blood to launch an attack.
Sheng Shaoyou’s face ached from all the forced smiling. Play nice. Sow the seeds of victory.
Barely an hour into the dinner party and he started flagging down server after server to refill his drink. Two hours passed. Maybe three. Time moved differently under the influence of alcohol, like ice floes floating on the Arctic.
Sheng Shaoyou lifted his gaze from the half-empty dinner plate in front of him. His food had gone cold, lost its texture and flavour. It was—well, according to his watch, very late. He was about to summon Chen Pinming when he noticed the man was no longer stationed by the door. Did he go out for a smoke? What the hell was Sheng Shaoyou even paying him all that money for?
Sheng Shaoyou tightened his lips and sighed inwardly. No matter: he could find his way out on his own. With a polite nod, he excused himself from the table, remembering to shake the right number of hands before making a discreet exit.
His head was throbbing from the alcohol. Although he wasn’t completely out of it yet, he could feel the inexorable decline of motor control. The worst part of it was: his bladder decided now was a great time to make its needs known too.
The corridor in front of him stretched, long and endless, seemingly lacking any depth. It reminded Sheng Shaoyou of an impressionist painting he’d once seen as a young boy. Ten years ago, before his father made it big, he sent Sheng Shaoyou to Country P to live temporarily with some relatives while he worked tirelessly on building his business from the ground up and slept with anyone with a pulse.
Sheng Shaoyou spent the entire month biking around the city, sleeping under the trees and going to the museum—the first and last time he truly felt alive. He remembered standing there, in front of the painting, flushed from the forty degree weather, his sweat cooled by icy gusts of filtered air from the vents overhead, looking at the complex brushstroke, the interplay of light and shadow, and feeling something inside of him move—
And then getting a headache from staring too long, unblinking and intense— the same way he was getting a headache now, filled with the absolute dread of walking down that endless corridor with a full bladder and the world’s worst headache.
Sheng Shaoyou cursed under his breath. He was a man. Twenty-two. An S-tier alpha. He could do it.
It turned out, there was only so much positive self-talk you could do before reality caught up to you.
Halfway down the corridor, his knees finally gave out, toppling like a deck of cards, and he would have almost fallen flat on his ass and pissed himself if not for the pair of arms that seemed to materialize out of nowhere, looping around his waist and catching him off guard.
“Mr Sheng—let me help you.”
A voice, soft and delicate as a spring breeze with a young face to match it.
Sheng Shaoyou had seen his fair share of beauties, but there was something about this youth that warranted a second look. Then a few more. He could feel his heart thudding in his chest, a strange phenomenon he attributed to the alcohol fogging his brain and warping his good reason. He blinked once, then again. That face was so close to his own, perfect and almost doll-like in its delicateness. There was a smile tucked in the corner of those thin lips, rueful and sly like a blade glinting in the darkness, quick to disappear. Did he dream that? Was he dreaming now? His whole body felt heavy, weighted down like stone.
He straightened up and tried to brush the youth off with a firm shove, but the strength in those arms kept them locked together, side by side, prisoner and captor. The arm stayed in place—curled around his waist like it had every right to belong there.
Sheng Shaoyou shuddered, every Alpha instinct telling him to make a bigger fuss. This wasn’t appropriate. They didn’t know each other! From the looks of it, this youth was an Omega too, though his scent was far too faint to discern. How did he get in here when it was an invite only event? He looked far too young to be a guest. Was he somebody’s son that they had brought along with them?
Sheng Shaoyou glared at him, opened his mouth to rebuke him, but found his head throbbing even harder as a result. A wave of dizziness followed. The ground began to sway under his perfectly-polished loafers.
“Mr. Sheng… you’re looking a little rough. Please don’t move too much.”
The night was winding down to a close. Minutes ago, Sheng Shaoyou could still hear music and muted conversation coming from down the hall. Now it seemed as if all the sound had been sucked out of the room, leaving behind only a dangerous, scintillating stillness. It made the hair on the back of his arms ripple. His temples began to sweat; his eyes started to lose their focus. It was the most peculiar feeling. He was not one to feel fear so quickly. People like him, S-tier Alphas, were at the top of the food chain.
And yet…
“Mr Sheng…” Sheng Shaoyou parroted, frowning, trying to place where he’d seen this youth before, but his mind drew a blank: unless it said Chairman or VP on their business card, he never bothered remembering people’s faces.
“Who’re you? Have we met before? Why are you acting so familiar with me?”
This line of questioning would have embarrassed anyone with its razor-sharp frankness, but the youth seemed largely unruffled, even endeared. His eyes, deep and dark as an unfathomable lake, shone with sweet affection. Each time Sheng Shaoyou drunkenly jabbed him in the chest, his smile grew until his eyes crinkled visibly in the corners.
Maybe he saw Sheng Shaoyou on the cover of a business magazine once, and came to ask for his autograph? He was obviously several years younger. Fresh out of secondary school, with a face unburdened by the troubles of the world, he could have wandered here straight after cram school wanting to meet his idol. His haircut seemed a little too long for regulation, but in elite schools they let you get away with anything as long as you filled the right pockets.
The young man looked at Sheng Shaoyou helplessly, as if it pained him that Sheng Shaoyou was now trying to elbow him off his person—and for good reason! Sheng Shaoyou didn’t want anyone to walk in on them and get the wrong idea. He was an S-tier Alpha, and this crazy young Omega was hanging off him like they were lovers. His business rivals would have a field day spinning story after story.
“D-don’t touch me.” Sheng Shaoyou’s tone may have been firm and cold, but his words came out slow and slurred. “I don’t know you. You have no right to touch me! Get off me!”
“Oh, Mr. Sheng…” A sigh escaped a pair of lips soft as feathers.
They were nose to nose now that Sheng Shaoyou felt his eyelashes stir along with the youth’s breath. His face flushed all on its own, as if the tiny touch embarrassed him. A powerful wave of pheromones was permeating the air, and it was unlike any Omega’s he’d ever encountered, strong and almost tyrannical in its assault, eroding every line of defense Sheng Shaoyou had ever built.
Sheng Shaoyou felt himself doubling over, his eyes misting with unshed tears. His heart was thudding painfully now. For a moment, he had a crazy thought: what if he were having a heart attack? Who would take over Sheng Fang Biotech? His good for nothing half-brother? Ha! He couldn’t find his way out of a gambling den in Macau even if he tried.
The ground rushed up to meet Sheng Shaoyou. For a long time, there was nothing but darkness and silence.
Ahh… what was he going to do now?
He’d been too hasty! He was only supposed to look, never engage. It had been that way for the last ten years: Hua Yong had kept his distance, watching from the fringes as the love of his life worked and played. The playing was the most difficult part: there were so many people surrounding Sheng Shaoyou, each one fighting vainly for his attention, but none of them could measure up to his character or his beauty. And yet, Sheng Shaoyou still gave them the time of day as if they were not mere ants to be trampled upon, inconsequential and annoying.
Hua Yong waited until he was old enough to emerge from the shadows, but though he was now a young man, newly eighteen, he still didn’t feel worthy to stand in Sheng Shaoyou’s presence. He had yet to build a name for himself and had just entered university. His stocks could barely compete with those of Sheng Fang Biotech. What right did he have to assert himself?
And now Hua Yong had done it: broken his own cardinal rule of looking and not touching. He simply couldn’t help himself. Sheng Shaoyou was like the most delectable fruit, ripe for the picking as it hung from the boughs of the forbidden tree.
He was alone, vulnerable. How could Hua Yong leave him untended? He was not heartless. At least not when it came to Sheng Shaoyou.
Hua Yong simply took his chance and seized it, but now in hindsight it seemed…there had been ah, a slight miscalculation.
The miscalculation lay fitfully asleep on his bed with brows perfectly furrowed. He wore Hua Yong’s silk pajamas and the topmost button had come undone from his constant tossing and turning.
Hua Yong sighed, heart softening at the sight. Sheng Shaoyou was even more handsome up close: from his eyelashes to his nose to his lips and jaw, everything seemed sculpted to perfection by a divine hand. Hua Yong had been sighing all night, watching from a distance as was his habit, and close to weeping from Sheng Shaoyou’s unbearable beauty.
He told himself not to wake his sleeping prince… no further touching was allowed. He had done enough by bringing him here. And he had—he smiled, remembering it fondly—undressed him so lovingly, so tenderly, leaving him in his briefs out of respect before putting him in his nightclothes, the same ones Hua Yong wore the night before. He would smell like Hua Yong in the morning. It would be faint, but, Hua Yong would know.
Just then, another dangerous impulse overtook Hua Yong. He reached forward without thinking to smooth the crease from Sheng Shaoyou’s brow with his thumb. That did little to ease Sheng Shaoyou’s restlessness, but it at least stopped him from frowning so hard in his sleep. He was only twenty-two. It would be a shame if he developed premature wrinkles.
Sighing once more, Hua Yong perched his chin on his fist and watched as Sheng Shaoyou slept.
His eyes glittered in the dark. You could count the number of times he blinked throughout the night.
Sheng Shaoyou jerked a wake. It took a second before his consciousness emerged from the wool of sleep, and then it took another moment for him to come to grips with himself and his surroundings. The curtains were drawn: they were long enough to touch the floor, just like back at his apartment and in the same shade of blue he preferred, but he couldn’t recognise the room he was in. He was not a stranger to blurred out nights and strings of hotel rooms that blended together like images on a zoetrope— only distinguishable by the small details.
But this wasn’t a hotel. At least, not in any way he recognized. It didn’t smell like one. Growing up, he’d always been sensitive to smells. This room didn’t have that cloying perfume that most hotels liked to use on their linen and curtains. It looked like a person’s room: neat and orderly, with personal affects placed just out of sight but not completely invisible if you looked hard enough. There was a walk-in closet, and the sliding door had been left ajar to let a shaft of light cut through the gloom.
Sheng Shaoyou groped for the lamp on the bedside table. It flickered to life, illuminating half of the room while leaving the other half still in shadow. Did he sleep with anyone last night? He clutched his temples, wincing as a dull pain made itself known. He must have drunk too much. Where was his phone? More importantly, what was he wearing? Where were his clothes?!
If this was a person’s room… then most likely they’d done the deed last night.
Sheng Shaoyou had long stopped caring what his father thought of him ever since he started cheating on Sheng Shaoyou’s mother, but it was always a pain whenever his indiscretion reached his father’s ears. He was not infallible—at least not this early into his career. He was merely a tool to be wielded, reliable like a blade that could cut through grass, or a hammer that drove a nail. He needed to play his cards right.
Sheng Shaoyou calmy assessed his surroundings. He was someone who was quick on his feet, always with a Plan B. He remembered leaving the party without Chen Pinming last night, but everything after that was a blur. Whomever he had slept with seemed to at least be in the same tax bracket—that was a relief. He wouldn’t need to bribe them.
Slipping out of bed on cautious feet, he began rifling through cabinets and drawers, looking for any of his belongings. Even his shoes had disappeared; he was walking around barefoot. There was no trace of his phone anywhere. The drawers revealed little of the owner of the room: there were receipts to food delivery, a password-locked tablet, and a small notebook with an abraded leather cover. He leafed through the pages without really paying attention. All of them were blank except for the last page where there was a massive ‘X’ scrawled in black ballpoint. Sheng Shaoyou put each item back where he’d found it.
The bathroom, twice the size of his own, was tastefully marbled. There was no point not ‘sampling’ the facilities on offer, so he did his business, washed his hands, and only then did he catch a glimpse of himself in the mirror: his eyes were flushed, same as his face, as if he’d spent all night in the throes of sex. If only he could remember his partner last night. It would at least make their inevitable encounter less awkward.
“Mr Sheng… oh, you’re awake.”
Speak of the devil.
Sheng Shaoyou whirled around to face the interloper and was shocked into silence by how young the man was. Could he even be considered a man? His voice sounded like it had just broken. Sheng Shaoyou blinked, and an odd memory resurfaced in his mind.
That face. It was that face!
That person!
And then it came to him, all at once, rushing forward like an overlapping tide: memories from last night, in disjointed flashes: he had passed out at the party and then abruptly came to in someone’s arms while they carried him to bed.
Sheng Shaoyou had been too weak to resist the hands unbuttoning his shirt, tugging on his belt and slipping off his socks, but there had been nothing lascivious at all in the way that they had touched him, dressing him afterwards as if he were merely a child being put to bed.
But it was the utmost humiliation. It stung his pride!
He seethed with rage, and felt his outrage rising up to his scalp.
“You—last night! You—”
Sheng Shaoyou saw nothing but red. He lunged forward, his pheromones bursting and spreading without warning. It would have suffocated anyone, bowling them over with their potent strength, but the young man simply looked sheepish, scratching his head as Sheng Shaoyou jabbed his chest repeatedly before shoving him against the wall.
“Mr. Sheng, I can explain. Ah, stop poking me! Ha… That tickles… please. Ha…”
Sheng Shaoyou’s wrist was abruptly seized in a firm grip, startling him into looking at that young, handsome face. It was meek as a lamb’s and just as sweet, but there was something unsettling lurking in the corners of that smile. He couldn’t put his finger on it. It made his neck itch unbearably.
Sheng Shaoyou was a man used to having the upper hand. He was an S-tier Alpha, therefore he was superior in every way: in physique and strength, in wit and cunning. It seemed he had met his match today in the form of a young Omega. The young man tilted his head to the side as if considering his next move, and then he smiled slowly and nodded as if he had come to a decision. “Hm, hm.” He still wouldn’t relinquish his grip on Sheng Shaoyou’s wrist, which was rapidly reaching the point of discomfort.
“I was being rude to Mr Sheng by not introducing myself,” The young man began, sounding contrite. “Where are my manners? My name is Hua Yong. We met last night at the party.”
Met would be putting it nicely. This Hua Yong had abducted Sheng Shaoyou and taken him to his apartment—god only knew where it was. Though no funny business had occurred, Sheng Shaoyou still couldn’t help but feel wronged. The fact was, his phone was still missing and he had no idea who this young man was or where precisely he had taken him. He could have some untoward intentions.
Sheng Shaoyou was also on unfamiliar territory—Country P. Only over a decade ago did the friction between Jianghu and Country P ease into something approaching civility. Sheng Shaoyou had naturally grown up with a distrust against Country P, though who could blame him? Their politics was dirty, and their rise to become a global superpower was not without its casualties. Sheng Fang Biotech had strong ties to the government. Abducting its heir apparent could very well have been a covert expression of dissent.
“I didn’t know where else to take you,” continued Hua Yong with a sigh. “You were very drunk last night, Mr Sheng. You really need to consider your alcohol intake next time. It’s not healthy, and you’re too young to develop liver problems.”
Sheng Shaoyou narrowed his eyes in suspicion. Who the hell was this person to tell him off with such familiarity? Also: “How do you know my name?”
“Everyone knows you, Mr Sheng Shaoyou,” smiled Hua Yong. His expression was open and serene, even pleased. “Don’t you know? I’m your biggest admirer.”
Hua Yong had to stop himself from pinning Sheng Shaoyou to the wall. He had seen this behaviour in Alphas, and it was meant to express certain intentions to an Omega. But Sheng Shaoyou wasn’t an Omega, so the tactic would most likely not have worked. He seemed irritated, anyhow, judging by his pheromone signal and the thinly veiled threat threaded into his scent. He was probably feeling a little overwhelmed.
Poor Mr Sheng. It was clear he was in distress. Hua Yong felt a little silly taking him home last night without so much as a personal introduction, but as the saying went: opportunities should not be missed, for if they were, they would not come again. He would simply need to forge on ahead and make the most out of this sudden windfall. The conditions may not have been ideal—he was hoping to insert himself into Sheng Shaoyou’s life once he was successful enough to stand toe to toe with him— but the important components were there, at least: him, Sheng Shaoyou, and a room only Hua Yong could unlock with his own thumbprint. That was something at least. Fate could be unkind and fickle. Might as well go for it. All or nothing!
“Mr Sheng.” Hua Yong loosened his grip around Sheng Shaoyou’s wrist. He rubbed Sheng Shaoyou’s pulse with his thumb, feeling him tense and shiver. Sheng Shaoyou’s eyes were unflinchingly hard, locked onto Hua Yong’s face with utmost distrust.
“Do you want to sit down for a moment?” Hua Yong asked him, sniffing the air heavy with Sheng Shaoyou’s pheromones. His scent was meant to intimidate and drive Hua Yong off.
Hua Yong, fortunately, would not be moved although his skin was beginning to prickle with excitement. His lower half too… though that was another story. He didn’t want to irritate Sheng Shaoyou further by bringing his attention to this problem. So, he focused instead on getting on Sheng Shaoyou’s good side. He lifted both hands in surrender, showing him he meant no harm. And that was, for the most part, true: while Hua Yong had brought him here to isolate him from the stink of last night’s crowd, he bore no ill intent. His heart was pure. His mind, however…
But mind and heart were two different beasts, and the most important thing was, Sheng Shaoyou knew he was not an enemy.
“Mr Sheng, look—”
That was as far as Hua Yong got before Sheng Shaoyou’s fist connected with his face. It— hurt. A violent throb of pain exploded behind his eyes: it was less the force behind it and more the fact it had come seemingly out of nowhere that stunned Hua Yong.
Hua Yong grunted, blinking away the momentary fugue brought about by such an underhanded attack. His eyes met Sheng Shaoyou’s whose complicated expression was a mix of regret and surprise, as if he had not meant to hit Hua Yong at all, at least not with so much force.
“I…” Sheng Shaoyou huffed, expression hardening, flicking his eyes across the handsome face he’d injured before turning on his heel and walking away.
Hua Yong clicked his tongue and watched Sheng Shaoyou make it halfway across the room before following on his heels. “Mr Sheng…that hurt. That wasn’t very nice,” he told Sheng Shaoyou.
As Hua Yong spoke, blood trickled down his nose and into the corners of his lips. The metallic taste of it brought him to a sudden stop. The pain seemed to return again, vivid and real, though his pride was stung worse than anything Sheng Shaoyou might have broken.
Absently, Hua Yong touched his lips. The smear of blood on his fingertip was a deep red, unfamiliar and fascinating. No one had ever hit him in a long, long time, not since his father had taken him back to the main house to live among his other illegitimate children. Sheng Shaoyou was the first person Hua Yong had let get close enough to hit him, and the pain was bracing, made his scalp prickle.
“Mm,” Hua Yong hummed, tasting the blood on his fingertip. It made him smile; it seemed Sheng Shaoyou had that effect on him; his facial muscles were finally getting a long-deserved workout. “Mr Sheng, it seems like I’m bleeding.”
Sheng Shaoyou was momentarily taken aback. Guilt wreathed his expression, so beautiful and genuine. He seemed to be thinking about the delicate face he’d just marred and the ruthlessness in his eyes seemed to dim like a candle flickering out. His eyes tracked Hua Yong’s face, long enough that were Hua Yong anyone but himself, he would have withered in embarrassment and ran to his room squealing after such intense scrutiny.
Sheng Shaoyou squared his shoulders and assessed the current situation. He tightened his lips and furrowed his brows in thought, and Hua Yong made a mental note to wean him of the bad habit. Did he not care about wrinkles at all? Would they need to start getting him treatments at twenty-five? Sigh, sigh.
“Don’t misunderstand me. I don’t go around hitting… Omegas. I’m not a monster. But that’s what you get for acting out of line.”
“Out of line?” Hua Yong repeated. “Mr Sheng, you might have broken my nose. Do you think I deserve it?”
“I’ll pay for your surgery.”
Hua Yong paused, his lip twitching, but he remained largely expressionless. “Mn. But that’s not the point, is it. I thought you’d care more,” he mumbled.
Sheng Shaoyou, sharp as ever, caught that last statement and bristled. “Why would I—look, Hua Yong. That’s your name isn’t it? Look,” Sheng Shaoyou said decisively, spreading out his hands as if he were in a board meeting, “You have to understand that this is a strange predicament we’re in. You took me here without my consent. I can’t find my clothes—”
“Oh, I washed them Mr Sheng. Normally, I would have the maid take them to the dry cleaners, but I wanted to handle your clothes myself.”
Hua Yong thought that Sheng Shaoyou would be touched by this gesture—in this day and age, no one hand-washed anything anymore unless they were poor or didn’t lack in sincerity—, but Sheng Shaoyou only looked mildly irritated and even a touch confused.
Ah. Of course! This man had his fair share of avid admirers: Betas, even other Alphas like himself; he’d encountered the entire gamut. There was no shortage of people lining up to prostrate themselves on the altar of his love, Hua Yong included. But Sheng Shaoyou preferred the coy to the abrasive, so Hua Yong made sure to adjust his temperament to suit him just so. He’d been called a dead fish before. Perhaps washing Sheng Shaoyou’s clothes had been where he’d crossed the line… He should have cooked Sheng Shaoyou breakfast instead to express his sincerity.
Sheng Shaoyou pinched the bridge of his nose. “Where are they?”
“Hm?”
“My clothes. Where are they?”
“They’re in the dryer, of course. I should check on them,” Hua Yong muttered absently.
“And my phone?”
Hua Yong turned to look at him. For a beat, he forgot to blink, cocking his head to regard Sheng Shaoyou. “What phone?”
Sheng Shaoyou gritted his teeth. “The one in my pocket. I always carry my phone in my left—fuck, did I drop it?”
“That’s a possibility. You were quite drunk last night, Mr Sheng. Do you know you talked in your sleep?”
Sheng Shaoyou stared at him with a look that could thaw icy tundras. Hua Yong felt warm all over, and that tingle from before returned once more, stronger than the first time. He had to fight off a smile. In the end, it slipped through, and he winced as the movement pulled his injured nose.
Sheng Shaoyou immediately noticed his discomfort. “I could pay for that, you know.” Tone brisk, businesslike, but that was what Hua Yong liked about him: he was straightforward as they come but oh so softhearted. Anyone would fall in love, even dead fish. “Stop touching it, or it might not heal properly. You should go to the hospital. Is it broken?”
Hua Yong hesitated to answer. He had amazing healing capabilities brought about by his unique designation. He felt pain, but not in the way other people did. It was more an inconvenience, sometimes a nuisance. Swimmers often had to remind themselves to surface for air in between the butterfly stroke; children were taught to look both ways before crossing the road. It was just something Hua Yong’s body did that he did not question: occasionally it bled. Now it felt excited, being so close to the love of his life: smelling him, feeling his warmth, like a neglected flower kept in the dark for so long and finally reaching for sunlight.
“I don’t know. Maybe Mr Sheng could check for me?”
Sheng Shaoyou looked at him like he’d grown another head. Hua Yong didn’t blink. “I’m leaving,” Sheng Shaoyou announced. “Bring me my clothes.”
Hua Yong was disappointed, but what did he expect? For Sheng Shaoyou to dote on him? They had just met for the first time, and while he knew Sheng Shaoyou from the inside out, every mole and mark flecking his body thanks to last night’s exercise in restraint as Hua Yong wiped him down and undressed him, Sheng Shaoyou could not say the same. He was a stranger in Sheng Shaoyou’s eyes: uncanny and unusual and seemingly suspicious. Beautiful, but not all there in the head. Hua Yong could see the little gears in his head turning. Sheng Shaoyou was more transparent than he realized. How could he expect to take over Sheng Fang Biotech like this? He was so trusting, so vulnerable.
There was only one way to coax him to Hua Yong’s side. Hua Yong needed to earn his trust.
—But trust was built over time, and it wasn’t something he could forcefully thrust upon Sheng Shaoyou no matter how hard he tried. Hua Yong had been patient—the last ten years was testament to that—but time was something he did not have a lot of, now that he had ruined his own plans by not sticking to the more long term goal of amassing wealth to be deemed worthy in Sheng Shaoyou’s eyes.
He was going to make a name for himself, outside the oppressive shadow his father had cast, and rise from the ashes like a golden phoenix. And then, when the time was right, he was going to court Sheng Shaoyou. They would date; they would marry. Children were entirely optional but not unwelcome. It was a foolproof plan.
Now, fate had given him the opportunity to stand before his god. It was still too early in the plan, but Hua Yong would take it nonetheless. He was good at improvising.
“I can’t, Mr. Sheng,” said Hua Yong.
“Can’t what?”
“Bring you your clothes.”
“Didn’t you say they were in the dryer?”
Hua Yong nodded placidly. “Mn. But I can’t just let Mr Sheng leave. Now is not the best time.”
“And why is that? What kind of nonsense are you spouting?” Sheng Shaoyou’s gaze held a trace of wariness. Not fear; he was not a man who would be so easily bullied, but it was beginning to sink in that Hua Yong was not like anybody he had ever met. His body was visibly tensing up again, whether in attack or defense, Hua Yong could only wonder.
Hua Yong knew this about himself: that he was what most people called an acquired taste. His unique designation set him apart from the rest, but it also isolated him. Not that it mattered anyhow; most people irritated him. Not Sheng Shaoyou though. He was special, the only one with the ability to move him, a bright spark in this otherwise dreary existence.
Hua Yong didn’t want to hurt him, but really, Sheng Shaoyou could be so stubborn. It was an attractive trait, but could be inconvenient at times. Hua Yong reached out to touch his neck with every intention of feeding him his pheromones when Sheng Shaoyou blocked the move, shoving him off with surprising strength. It did little to deter Hua Yong, but it gave Sheng Shaoyou enough of a headstart. He reached for the lamp on the bedside table next—it seemed he was resorting to violence now. Inconvenient indeed.
A bit of disappointment must have shown on Hua Yong’s face because Sheng Shaoyou lowered the lamp in his hand, as if realizing what he was about to do, and to an ‘Omega’ no less.
“Hua Yong,” Sheng Shaoyou began, his tone diplomatic and neutral, but Hua Yong never let him finish. He could tell what Sheng Shaoyou was trying to do, but nothing could persuade him into letting him go. They were past the point of no return.
Hua Yong took the lamp from him, situated it on the bedside table where it belonged, then turned back to face him.
…Sheng Shaoyou was walking briskly towards the door. He tried the knob, and when that didn’t work, began banging his shoulder against the door, hoping his strength was enough to budge it. But these doors were reinforced with a special kind of material, meant to keep Hua Yong in and others out—- mostly for their own safety. How could Sheng Shaoyou ever escape? The door could only unlock with Hua Yong’s thumbprint.
Hua Yong watched him struggle for a brief moment before walking over to explain the mechanism of the door when Sheng Shaoyou wheeled around and looked at him accusingly, catching him off-guard before he could get a word out.
“You know, this isn’t even the first time I’ve ever been kidnapped,” said Sheng Shaoyou, advancing towards Hua Yong until his back hit the wall. “You think you could scare me, a boy like you? This is mere child’s play. Let me go while I’m still feeling merciful.”
“Kidnapping?” Hua Yong blinked. “That’s a bit…much, isn’t it, Mr Sheng? I took you home. I didn’t kidnap you.”
The semantics didn’t seem to interest Sheng Shaoyou at all who merely huffed and started checking on the windows next, groping for any latches. The floor to ceiling ones that lined the southwestern corners of Hua Yong’s suite were made of tempered glass, the frames built to withstand immense pressure and the strongest of monsoons. There were no vulnerabilities in the architecture with everything locked, fastened and securely bolted.
Sheng Shaoyou stared at his reflection in the glass. For a beat, he stood motionlessly in front of the windows, fists flexing tightly at his sides, his bare feet stark against the deep blue carpeting, the most vulnerable thing about him.
Hua Yong ached to embrace him. It was early enough in the morning that the sun cast rosy hues and outlined his profile in light and shadow. He really was so handsome. If Sheng Shaoyou saw how Hua Yong saw him, dressed in Hua Yong’s silk pajamas and standing inside the cage of his bedroom—smelling like him, breathing in his pheromones… his skin would most likely crawl.
But Hua Yong looked at him with his gaze full of love and adoration. The soft feeling in his heart was short-lived, however, as Sheng Shaoyou suddenly snapped to attention and picked up an armchair, hefting it over his head to hurl it against the window. It made a visible dent in the glass, but not enough to warrant panic. The armchair bounced and rolled across the floor in front of him.
Hua Yong frowned in concern. What was Sheng Shaoyou trying to do? “That doesn’t seem very safe, Mr Sheng. You could hurt yourself. We’re on the ninth floor. Whatever you’re thinking, I suggest not to do it.”
Sheng Shaoyou picked up the armchair again. He was strong; Alphas with his kind of makeup often were, but he was also very determined: a man born with razorsharp focus. That was why his father had chosen him to be his heir among his other children. Sheng Shaoyou picked up the armchair enough times that the glass began to splinter and crack.
Hua Yong decided now was the time to act before Sheng Shaoyou truly hurt himself. He walked behind him on silent feet, pressing his hand across Sheng Shaoyou’s gland—soft and warm to the touch. He felt the resulting shiver in his bones, even shut his eyes. Then, Sheng Shaoyou came at him with his fist, but this time, Hua Yong was prepared: he blocked it with his arm.
Sheng Shaoyou tried elbowing him in the stomach, but Hua Yong dodged that attack too, leaping back outside the immediate radius of Sheng Shaoyou’s swinging fists. He was like an animal, tracking Hua Yong’s movements with singular precision, the sound of his labored breath warring with the steady hiss of the overhead vents. If he couldn’t escape, then he was going to threaten and intimidate Hua Yong.
Hua Yong could see how his mind worked. His brows were knit together and his teeth were bared; this was Sheng Shaoyou well and truly angry. He even let out a wave of rage-filled pheromones.
They perfumed the air heavily and made Hua Yong weak in the knees, but not in the way Sheng Shaoyou would have intended. Heh.
Hua Yong let Sheng Shaoyou lunge at him, but before he could make his move, Hua Yong met him halfway and embraced him, tackling him on the ground. They landed in a rough heap, sideways skewed, and Hua Yong pinned him down with some difficulty because Sheng Shaoyou wouldn’t stop struggling, bucking and thrashing and doing his best to get Hua Yong off. He was trying to hit Hua Yong too so Hua Yong had no choice but to grab his wrists and flatten them on the ground.
Face to face like this, staring down at Sheng Shaoyou’s flushed, incensed face was like staring down the barrel of a gun: exciting, dangerous, entirely novel. His whole body trembled with fury, all the way down to the tips of his fingers. Sheng Shaoyou may have been strong, but Hua Yong was stronger. So Hua Yong used that to his full advantage, releasing his pheromones to subdue Sheng Shaoyou.
He was bullying Sheng Shaoyou, he knew. But it was just a bit. Just the tiniest bit. Sheng Shaoyou needed to stop squirming. It was causing Hua Yong all sorts of problems down there.
“Relax, Mr Sheng. I’m not here to hurt you.”
“Fuck you!” Sheng Shaoyou spat.
Hua Yong’s smile flickered, his eyes glinting with steely amusement as Sheng Shaoyou’s spit dribbled down his cheek. He made no attempt to wipe it off. The sensation was pleasantly cool, like a ghost of a caress.
“You’re not going to kill me. If you wanted to, you wouldn’t have gone through all this hassle. So what do you really want? Name your price. You know who I am. I can give you anything, just say the word.”
“Ah… Mr Sheng.” Hua Yong’s smile grew, intense and feline, his eyes curving into happy crescents. Sheng Shaoyou stilled underneath him, tensing up. “Now we’re on the same page. See, I knew you were intelligent. That’s what’s so great about you. You’re the whole package. Hmm…” He hummed thoughtfully. “What do I want, what do I want. Ah! What if I say, I want you, Mr Sheng? Would you be able to give yourself to me?”
Sheng Shaoyou eyed him cautiously, expression guarded. “So you want sex. Is that it?” His shoulders seemed to deflate with immediate relief. “You should have said so in the beginning. Well, all right, then. We’re both adults here.” In a low voice, he muttered, “Some with more maturity than others…” And then in a louder voice: “If I leave you satisfied, do you promise to let me go?”
Hua Yong looked at him sadly. “Mr Sheng, you’re so quick to give your body to a complete stranger.”
“Huh?”
“What if I had bad intentions, Mr Sheng? Where is your sense of self preservation? What if I tied you up and filmed you writhing around in my bed? Did it ever occur to you that I could be a pervert? Whose sole intention is to make you act out my twisted fantasies? You’re so pure and innocent, Mr Sheng. It actually worries me.” Hua Yong clicked his tongue, shaking his head in pure disbelief. “It’s not just your body I want. I want your heart too.”
He nodded to show his sincerity. “Hm. Having said all that, yes, I want all of Mr Sheng.”
The pronouncement made Sheng Shaoyou’s face drain of colour. It was actually rather funny, like water washing away sand. When the colour returned, it was red, more vivid than blood, filling him up like a balloon and turning even the tips of his ears scarlet. “You’re fucking psychotic.”
“Or so you say,” Hua Yong laughed, oddly pleased by the astute observation. He got that often; it had stopped bothering him. Coming from Sheng Shaoyou, it seemed less like an insult and more like the sweetest acknowledgement. “I’m just a man in love, Mr. Sheng. Please forgive my shamelessness.”
“Forgive your—”
Sheng Shaoyou could only cry out as Hua Yong flipped him abruptly onto his stomach—no warning whatsoever. His chin banged against the carpet, and he grunted in pain as Hua Yong re-settled his weight on his back, lining up his pelvis against Sheng Shaoyou’s lower half. His wrists were captured once more by long-fingered hands, pinned on either side of his head with an unyielding grip.
Hua Yong’s breath was hot against his neck; his whole body was hot, too. And as he felt the familiar fever ignite inside him, consuming his mind and his heart like a match burning down to the splinter, a pitiful whimper escaped his lips. His eyes burned with desperation.
Below him, Sheng Shaoyou wouldn’t stop thrashing around despite his severely disadvantaged state and had even devolved to name-calling. His words were hurtful, rude, but Huang Yong knew he was simply unused to being the weaker one, the softer one. There was no shame in it; no Alpha had ever been chosen by an Enigma before. He was the first one in history. It would be awhile before he accepted his new biology.
“Mr Sheng, I’m really sorry,” Hua Yong said, rubbing himself against Sheng Shaoyou’s ass and unable to stop himself. The friction brought some relief, but just barely. Hua Yong could do more, he really could, and his list of fantasies that involved Sheng Shaoyou was ever-long, it could fill the National Library, but he swore to himself that he wouldn’t cross the line. At least not yet. Despite how pear-shaped things had gone, he still truly meant to court Sheng Shaoyou and win his heart. This was simply ah, the long-winded approach.
“I really need to do this,” Hua Yong explained, slowing down his hips. Sheng Shaoyou’s back was a taut line, a stone wall Hua Yong intended to dismantle brick by brick. “You’ll see that it’s for the best. It won’t hurt at all. I promise, Mr Sheng. I’m going to take care of you.”
Sheng Shaoyou grunted in response and made a last ditch attempt to fling Hua Yong off his back. It didn’t work to no one’s surprise; the pheromones Hua Yong had released were beginning to overpower him, weakening his resolve and eroding his stubbornness. Even Hua Yong could sense it. Sheng Shaoyou’s gasps had turned to quiet panting, like a fish fighting for air on land.
Hua Yong took a deep breath of his own. For a moment, he trembled too, from excitement and nerves. This was it: he was going for it! After ten years of waiting, he was finally going to make Sheng Shaoyou his.
Hua Yong nuzzled the side of Sheng Shaoyou’s neck.
The skin there was pale and smooth, warm to the touch as if he too was sweating out a fever. Sheng Shaoyou’s hair was cut short at the sides, stiff with pomade and styled neat as a pin on days he had to sit through boring business meetings which was six days out of the week.
There was a rough patch his barber had missed shaving—just there, at the back, right behind his ear. Hua Yong licked it with utmost tenderness, moved by the thought of being the only man to ever see this part of him.
It was with this preamble that Hua Yong marked Sheng Shaoyou. His teeth punctured skin in no time, sharp and firm as they sunk against stubborn flesh. Blood coated his tongue, sweet and tangy like a newly minted coin. Sheng Shaoyou tasted like oranges, overripe at the end of summer.
Hua Yong closed his eyes and breathed in deep. He felt drunk but this was only the beginning. He bit down even harder, and a buzzing sound filled his ears. For a moment, he couldn’t tell whether he had made it up or if the sound really was coming from somewhere in the room.
He’d never marked anyone before.
Of course, this mark was only temporary. It would last Sheng Shaoyou a few days and leave him merely feeling itchy and restless; it wouldn’t bond them together as pairs had to mutually consent to the marking. At the end of the week, Sheng Shaoyou’s body would reset itself and it would be as if no marking ever happened; he would be resistant to Hua Yong’s advances. He would return to his stubborn, bull-headed self.
But if Hua Yong did it enough times… if he soothed him with his pheromones, attentive and tender…
Hua Yong bit down again.
This time, Sheng Shaoyou whimpered in pain, a sound that seemed to awaken all of Hua Yong’s senses and knock on every door of his heart. A manic energy filled him; his body an empty vessel Sheng Shaoyou’s blood was rushing to fill.
Shaoyou, he thought, trembling. Shaoyou, Shaoyou.
The room vibrated with his excitement. The walls, the windows, the bed and doors, all rattled and creaked against the tidal swell of his pheromones.
Sheng Shaoyou’s fingers made soft dents in the carpet, scrabbling in protest before finally, they stopped. His breathing evened out. His back loosened like a drawn bowstring. The sounds he made under his breath were soft and stirred the heart.
Hua Yong, his eyes returning to their usual dark sheen, released him.
When he lifted his lips from Sheng Shaoyou’s sluggishly bleeding neck, his lips were stained a vivid red, tasting of newly plucked oranges.
Sheng Shaoyou woke up feeling like his body had been dragged through gravel in his sleep. It was mid-afternoon, judging from the light seeping between the curtains. He couldn’t move a muscle. His head felt too heavy for his body, his tongue numb and thick inside his mouth, tacky from dehydration. Worst of all, his neck ached as if he’d slept on it wrong, or spent another night at the office correcting typos in a business report. Really, he should start firing people.
Only Chen Pinming was remotely competent and loyal. His father’s staff comprised of boot-lickers and sycophants. They would drop and roll for a pretty treat but no sooner bite the hand that fed them for the right price. Never underestimate a man’s ambition. Welcome to capitalist Jianghu.
Unlike the first time Sheng Shaoyou had woken up in a similar fashion, in this unfamiliar room in this unfamiliar bed, he was much less panicked about his whereabouts. He was the type of man who could think rationally under duress, and this happened to be… A Situation that he was in. He could think of a way out of it. He always could charm his way in and out of a contract with a liar’s ease.
The facts were these: a young Omega named Hua Yong had kidnapped him, under the delusion of love. He had brought Sheng Shaoyou to a room on the ninth floor, ensuring he couldn’t escape. The doors locked from the inside as well; only Hua Yong knew how to get out.
Enough time had passed since Sheng Shaoyou’s disappearance, but only Chen Pinming would’ve sounded the alarms. That man was attached to his elbow and could be summoned by a mere thought.
…But last night he had been suspiciously absent.
Sheng Shaoyou wondered if his secretary had anything to do with this whole farce, until he realized only a madman would go to such lengths to take him as captive. Chen Pinming wouldn’t dare. But Hua Yong, oh he would.
He was a rich young master, delicate and fair on the outside but hiding a deadly strength. That was unusual for an Omega, but this was Country P; Sheng Shaoyou would be surprised if the little lunatic didn’t take some type of strength-enhancing drug to be able to incapacitate him.
Sheng Shaoyou winced, reaching around his neck to press two fingers to his aching gland. Fuck, Hua Yong had broken skin. He probably thought he was doing something by marking an S-tier Alpha like Sheng Shaoyou. No Omega could form a bond that way; it had to be the other way around.
It was almost endearing how stupid and juvenile the attempt was. Hua Yong was young, probably around eighteen or nineteen, and most likely besieged by the strength of his feelings and hormones. Maybe he’d seen Sheng Shaoyou’s picture in a magazine, or on a billboard with flashing lights. Or maybe it was one of those interviews Sheng Shaoyou had done, very early into his career, with his suit newly tailored and his tie cinched just a breadth too tight. Hua Yong must have seen his face then and decided that it was love. He would not be the first person to confess their feelings to Sheng Shaoyou.
He was, however, the first one to do it in such a borderline illegal way.
If it was love Hua Yong wanted, then Sheng Shaoyou could play this game. Hua Yong didn’t seem like he wanted to actively hurt him. He said so himself. Sheng Shaoyou would simply soften him up, pretend to care, and when the time was right, ask Hua Yong nicely to free him. And Hua Yong would do it too, Sheng Shaoyou knew. He would play the fool, falling for the ruse hook, line and sinker. The little lunatic wouldn’t see it coming, too blinded by love. Of course, it would take Sheng Shaoyou a few days to coax him, but no more than a week. Love didn’t blossom overnight after all. He needed to be convincing.
“I see you’re awake, Mr Sheng. Did you sleep well? I made you lunch.”
The door didn’t even creak when Hua Yong entered the room with a serving tray. He wore a different shirt now, white and flowy and made of a gauzy, shimmering material as if he were part of some idol group performing on a variety show. On any one else it would have looked tacky and cheap, but he wore it with the elegance and grace of an imperial lord.
Hua Yong’s nose seemed to have healed completely too. Sheng Shaoyou found the fact that his nose was not grotesquely deformed highly irritating, but at least he would be spared from paying for reconstructive surgery.
Hua Yong smiled at him, his long eyelashes sweeping his cheeks. If only he wasn’t crazy, Sheng Shaoyou thought. He would have gladly taken this young Omega to bed. No, that wasn’t true. Sheng Shaoyou would have waited a few years. Hua Yong was too young for him, like a piglet freshly weaned, clumsy and pathetic. He was still in school; Sheng Shaoyou was not a dirty cradle robber.
“Are you feeling well enough to eat on your own, Mr Sheng?” Hua Yong set the tray aside and sat on the bed next to Sheng Shaoyou. He reached over with his hand, but Sheng Shaoyou, out of habit and a general dislike of people touching him without his consent, seized his wrist in a punishing grip. Then he remembered his plan and quickly let go, forcing himself to look away as Hua Yong checked his temperature with the back of his hand.
He missed the way Hua Yong’s smile slowly widened as a result. Hua Yong nodded and sighed, watching him for a moment before drawing his hand back and affecting meekness. “You fainted after I bit you. That was my fault, Mr Sheng, and I really do apologize. But that was the only way to calm you. I had read in a book that Alpha’s glands were sensitive and if they were ever feeling threatened, it was the quickest way to soothe them.”
Sheng Shaoyou’s face flushed scarlet with shame and rage. His scalp went numb from the intensity of his blushing.
That seemed like total nonsense from a biological standpoint. Hua Yong made it sound like he was an Omega entering hysteria, and Sheng Shaoyou remembered keenly how it had felt being pinned down for the first time: the helplessness of it, and the shame, the hunter becoming the hunted.
“You—-! What the hell kind of book were you reading?!”
“Anatomy of An Alpha: An Illustrated Guide, by Nie Hualing,” Hua Yong recited the title word for word.
Sheng Shaoyou could only stare at him. Finally, his shoulders slumped. “…Forget I asked.”
Hua Yong said nothing, but his eyes continued to smile. Then he pointed behind him to draw Sheng Shaoyou’s attention to the meal he’d painstakingly prepared: a bowl of fragrant rice and steamed fish, a plate of runny eggs covered in chilli oil with the edges finely crisped like lace trimmings, and on the side a cup of warm milk.
Sheng Shaoyou preferred western fare, and everyone especially Chen Pinming knew this: steak and pasta, a roasted beet salad with balsamic vinaigrette and Feta cheese. It was evidence of a refined palette. He disliked traditional Chinese food because it reminded him of his mother’s cooking. An uncomfortable knot formed in his stomach as he stared at the bowl in Hua Yong’s lap. On top of a bed of soft rice were cuts of fatty fish buffeted by finely minced garlic, ginger and green onions. Steam rose in soft curls as Hua Yong lifted a spoon and blew on it.
“I can eat on my own. You don’t have to feed me,” said Sheng Shaoyou, his brow twitching.
Hua Yong gave him a look that dared him to try prying this spoon from his cold dead hands, and for a moment, Sheng Shaoyou pictured stabbing him with the same spoon to accelerate that death. In the end, he relented. His freedom meant more to him than his pride. Besides, he was exhausted, a heaviness bogged down his reflexes, making him feel like he was still drunk. He had slept poorly. Then again, he had slept poorly for most of his life. It was actually the first time he had a full night’s sleep, and then a nap.
“Open your mouth, Mr Sheng. Eat well and grow taller.”
“You think you’re so funny, don’t you,” muttered Sheng Shaoyou, glaring at Hua Yong fiercely, but he opened his mouth as prompted and chewed his food like an obedient son. The fish was nicely fried and flavourful, not too salty.
The rice was perfect: doused in soy sauce with hints of pepper. Sheng Shaoyou ate and tried to free his mind of all extraneous thought. He emptied the bowl within minutes, and he even ate the eggs. Then it was time to move on to the milk, which Hua Yong guided to his mouth as if he were still in nursery school.
Sheng Shaoyou reined in his temper and said nothing, letting the little lunatic play nursemaid. The sooner he acted agreeable the better. Sheng Shaoyou imagined himself hopping onto the first plane back to Jianghu, and then finding this rascal’s parents and suing them out of their livelihood even their ancestors would be swimming in debt.
“Mr Sheng…did you enjoy my cooking? You’re smiling now.”
That’s because I’m imagining you behind bars, Sheng Shaoyou thought, but he straightened his shoulders and nodded instead. “You cook well. Do you live alone?”
This made Sheng Shaoyou wonder if there was any staff nearby; maybe he could call for help and a kindly soul would take pity on his handsome face and free him. He seemed to be in some kind of serviced apartment. The fixtures were all modern and elegant, the furniture top-notch; there was evidence of habitation everywhere—half a bottle of body gel in the shower, a hair dryer still plugged to the wall—but it still lacked warmth somehow, the space lifeless like a showroom.
Hua Yong watched Sheng Shaoyou before answering. “You could say that,” he said evasively. “I’m living on my own these days. I’m of age, you know. There comes a point when a young man longs for independence. Why do you ask? Is Mr Sheng worried about me?”
The only worry Sheng Shaoyou felt was for his own sanity slipping by the minute. He wanted to wring this lunatic’s neck and scream in his face. Hua Yong was fixated on the wrong thing. How did he suddenly come to the conclusion that Sheng Shaoyou cared about him, a complete a stranger?
Sheng Shaoyou sighed and counted to three in his head. He could feel his eyebrow twitching again. Another part twitched too: his gland. Strange; there was an unfamiliar kind of discomfort stirring just beneath the skin. Sheng Shaoyou rotated his neck and discreetly massaged his fingers over the aching part, but no matter how much he rubbed, it still felt sore and stiff.
Hua Yong didn’t blink. And then he did. “Does it itch?” He asked. His eyes were black, almost luminous. There was something in the way the light hit it that made Sheng Shaoyou pause.
Still, Sheng Shaoyou decided to be civil and admitted, “A little.”
“Then I’ll put some ointment.” Hua Yong stood to his feet, disappearing into the bathroom where Sheng Shaoyou could hear him rummaging through the cabinets. When he returned, he had a tube of indeterminate nature in his hand. Sheng Shaoyou didn’t have his glasses on; he could barely read the fine print on the back and was immediately suspicious. But when Hua Yong uncapped the lid, a strong floral scent assaulted his senses. It was not the usual mentholated liniment, but a sharp, almost seductive fragrance like a rare perfume.
Hua Yong coated two of his fingers with the stuff. Then he held out his arm. “May I?” He asked but neglected to wait for a response, reaching behind Sheng Shaoyou to coat his gland with—whatever that was.
“What the fuck! Hey, don’t touch it!”
Hua Yong gripped Sheng Shaoyou’s shoulder with his other hand, locking him in place, forcing him to sit still. It was unbearable. Sheng Shaoyou wanted to punch him in the face but the strength with which Hua Yong held him made him hesitate. They were simply unmatched. What kind of Omega was he? A science experiment gone wrong?
“Is it sensitive?” Hua Yong asked, as if he were not leaving bruises on Sheng Shaoyou’s shoulder and merely inquiring about the weather. “It feels a little hot.”
Sheng Shaoyou gnashed his teeth. “I just said not to touch it,” he said, keeping his voice even, his gaze fixed to a spot on the wall so he did not fill up with rage at the sight of Hua Yong’s placid, perfect face while he poked and prodded without any regard for basic decency. “If you really liked me, you would respect my boundaries.”
“I’m doing this precisely because I like you, Mr Sheng. You don’t take care of yourself enough. I’m sorry about your boundaries, but please consider this as an extension of my feelings.” He rubbed a slow, deliberate circle across Sheng Shaoyou’s throbbing gland. His fingers were deft and nimble. They pressed firmly, working in a rhythm that was maddeningly tender.
Sheng Shaoyou felt his insides curl up with shame.
An unnameable feeling that was too dangerous to even think about stirred in his gut. His breath hitched in his throat. He could feel his skin prickling with goosebumps as a strange sensation built up his spine. Warmth spread from Hua Yong’s fingertips, sparking him down to the nerve endings.
It was as if he had touched a live wire; everything, even the ends of his hair, buzzed with static.
Hua Yong drew his hand back, but Sheng Shaoyou cut him with a look before he could pull away fully. Neither of them blinked for a long time. Sheng Shaoyou could hear his own breath: ragged and slow like a dog’s.
“You dare to stop now?” Sheng Shaoyou accused, but rather than sound aggrieved, his voice seemed more plaintive. He was really starting to hate this. His jaw hurt from how hard he was gritting his teeth, and he wanted nothing more than to shake Hua Yong by the neck like a rattle. But there was still the issue of his gland. It felt good to have Hua Yong massage it. The little lunatic knew what he was doing. And the ointment relieved the throb and the itch, alleviating the pressure that built and built.
Hua Yong’s fingers stilled momentarily, and a fingernail brushed the healing punctures on Sheng Shaoyou’s neck, making him shudder.
“Does… Mr Sheng… like it when I touch him there?” Hua Yong asked hopefully, and really, must he word it so crassly? What was wrong with him? Was this what they called all beauty and no brain?
Sheng Shaoyou rolled his eyes. “Stop speaking nonsense and just do the work you promised.”
There; he’d said it. The words were straightforward enough, said without inflection, and yet Hua Yong actually chuckled as if he’d just said a funny joke. His face softened with naked joy, the kind befitting children and stupid animals: guileless and simple. He hummed under his breath as he ‘worked’.
Before long, Sheng Shaoyou’s eyes grew heavy. He listed forward, dozing off, but Hua Yong stopped him just in time, dragging him back against the hull of his chest.
Sheng Shaoyou heard him chuckling.
“Mr Sheng…” Hua Yong whispered, his voice soft and syrupy warm in Sheng Shaoyou’s ear. He scooted closer until Sheng Shaoyou felt the heat of his body, the delicate ribs rising and falling under the flimsy material of his shirt. “You know, for an Alpha, you’re actually really cute.”