Qin Yue’s comment made perfect sense to Star, as Julián, Qin Yue’s first love, spoke Spanish.
Star smiled. “I only know the lyrics, so…”
“Quiero ver cuánto amor a ti te cabe.”
It sounded like what he had sung before, yet somehow different. Qin Yue could not pinpoint why it felt familiar.
Vincent remarked, “It sounds quite good.”
Star did not react. Since Vincent had spoken in Spanish, the old fox was clearly testing him.
Fabian looked at him with admiration. “Can you be the top in a relationship?”
Star smiled but remained silent.
They found a bar along the street and sat down.
“Why are you back so soon?” Star had assumed they would visit bars on nearby islands and not return until the middle of the night.
“Don’t even ask. That boat…”
Star listened quietly to their chatter, offering a sweet smile from time to time. Vincent watched Star’s profile, deep in thought. He had assumed Star was acting like a spoiled young master by refusing to join Fabian, but after seeing him hold his drink, smoke a cigarette, and look so relaxed on the beach, Vincent understood.
Star was not acting superior. He simply did not like this lifestyle; he did not like any of it.
Star felt his skin crawl. He subconsciously looked at Vincent, but Vincent was looking out at the sea. Rubbing his arms, Star finished his drink.
Qin Yue teased, “Cipher, are you drinking Long Island Iced Tea like it is water?”
Star blushed at the right moment and held his forehead. “I think I drank a bit too much.”
“Let us go back,” Vincent said, wrapping an arm around his shoulder.
Star nodded. “Okay.”
They returned to their room and swiped their key card. The room was pitch black. Just as Star waited for Vincent to insert the card, he felt his waist tighten and was pushed against the door.
“Ugh.”
A rough kiss covered his lips. Star was forced to tilt his head back, gasping for breath within seconds. Vincent’s hand gripped his waist, lifting his legs so that they naturally wrapped around Vincent’s waist.
Star finally did not have to tilt his head back, but the door panel dug into his shoulder blades.
“Ugh, it hurts.”
He spoke up during a brief pause. Vincent softened his touch slightly, his warm, large hand rubbing Star’s back and shoulders as if to help him relax. Star’s body gradually softened. The taste of sage lingered between them.
Vincent finally pulled away. “Absinthe.”
Star hugged him like a koala and hummed softly. Vincent carried him to the master bedroom and placed him on the bed before going to shower. Star knew he could not escape tonight. Fortunately, luxury hotels were well-stocked, so he hoped he would not suffer too much. Then again, given Vincent’s rough and inexperienced style, he could not be sure.
Star wondered if he should prepare himself or simply pretend to be asleep. He decided against it; he still needed the money, and it was best to keep Vincent satisfied. Was that not why he was brought on this trip? This was not a real relationship, but a paid arrangement. If he kept stalling, Vincent would lose interest and leave.
Vincent emerged wrapped in a bath towel, drying his hair with another. It was the first time Star had seen Vincent in such a casual state; Vincent was usually dressed in impeccable suits with perfectly groomed hair. Seeing this side of him felt subtle and strange. Previous benefactors were more like work than love, and he had never had such proximity. As Star looked away, his eyes locked onto something else.
There was a bulge beneath the white bath towel.
It surely was not a toy Vincent had placed there. Star regretted not feigning sleep. Given Vincent’s temperament, he was terrified he might die in bed. Even if Vincent were gentle, that thing alone could kill him. Star had touched Vincent several times before and never felt any physical reaction, so he had assumed Vincent had incredible self-control. He never imagined it had to be tucked into a pant leg.
Star rolled off the bed. His legs felt weak as he stumbled toward the small bar in the suite. He opened a bottle of whiskey, skipped the ice, and started drinking.
Vincent came over while drying his hair. Star dodged him like a cat whose tail had been stepped on. When Vincent went left, he went right; when Vincent went right, he went left. They circled the bar in a game of cat and mouse. Star held a bottle in one hand and a glass in the other, finishing one drink after another.
“Cipher!”
Star was startled, and his drink sloshed. “Wait, wait! I need some liquid courage.”
Vincent chuckled in frustration. “I am not going to touch you. Come here.”
“Really?” Star looked skeptical, though he shook his head. Men were all the same, including himself.
Vincent sat on a high stool at the bar. “Then drink.”
Star lost his nerve. He did not want to make Vincent angry again; he had heard Vincent speaking to Qin Yue earlier and knew he was already dissatisfied. He put down his glass and walked over with his head down. “I was just motion-sick this afternoon; I was not throwing a tantrum.”
Star began unbuttoning his shirt. “I know my place. Please do not be angry.”
“That is enough.” Vincent pressed his hand down. “I am not angry. You are new to this, and I understand that you are scared.”
“Really?” Vincent was so tall that he could look Star in the eye even while sitting. His expression did not seem fake. Star hugged his waist. “Thank you, sir.”
Vincent pulled him onto his lap. “Just get used to it for now.”
This time, Star truly felt the terror of it, and goosebumps broke out instantly. Was that really something a human could have? Star dared not move an inch, fearing Vincent might lose control. The person in his arms was as stiff as a cat in clothing. Vincent pinched his chin with a smile. “Is it that scary?”
Star nodded fiercely, then quickly shook his head. “Yes, no, but I…”
“Fine.” Vincent picked him up and placed him back on the bed. “Go to sleep.”
Star lay down facing the window, trembling. The high-end hotel toiletries smelled sophisticated and pleasant. The scent drifted to his nose as Vincent’s firm muscles and skin, still slightly damp, pressed against his back.
Star suddenly remembered he had not showered yet. He scrambled up and ran to the bathroom. Vincent watched the door close and laughed out loud. It was a genuine, unrestrained laugh. Star heard it from inside the bathroom; it was the first time he had heard Vincent laugh that heartily. Vincent was like someone teasing a cat, or perhaps training a dog.
Star dawdled, showered carefully, locked the door, and reapplied his makeup and contact lenses. The makeup he used was infused with semi-permanent tattoo ink he had mixed himself; it could last for two or three days, though he had to use technology like DHA or daily touch-ups for the foundation. The shading was enough; he could transform from Latino to Asian in an hour.
After checking his makeup and using eye drops, Star walked out slowly. Vincent was at the desk, working on his computer.
“You go to sleep first.”
Star felt relieved. “Goodnight, sir.”
Although there was a bed in the outer room, he did not want to sleep there, as it would look like he was repulsed by his benefactor. He lay on the other side of the bed and fell asleep facing the moonlight.
In the middle of the night, a cloud covered the moon, darkening the room. Star opened his eyes for a second, remembered his situation, and closed them again. In the quiet night, the sound of rhythmic breathing beside him was obvious. Star turned over gently.
Vincent was asleep. He looked incredibly peaceful. He lay flat on his back, hands crossed over his abdomen, breathing shallowly. He looked more like a corpse than a living person. Star lay on his side, watching his sleeping face. When Vincent slept, there was no smile at his lips or brow; he looked serious and sharp.
He did not smoke or drink, his shirt was always neat without a single wrinkle, and he was methodical, polite, and well-bred. Star could not imagine how someone who slept in such a disciplined, standardized way could engage in such a transaction. Could it be that appearances were deceiving? Was Vincent actually a serial lover?
Star shook his head. Impossible. With kissing skills that bad, he could not have a romantic history. As he thought about it, Star fell back into a dream.
The moment he closed his eyes, Vincent opened his. There was no sleepiness in his gaze; it was sharp and clear. He rubbed his brow and sighed softly.
There was a glass of water and a small pillbox on the nightstand. Vincent reached for the box and hesitated. Star stirred and curled around him, clearly awakened by the slight sound. He rubbed his eyes and hugged Vincent’s waist. “What is it, sir? Insomnia?”
“No.” Vincent put the box back and hugged him as they lay down. “Go to sleep.”
Star hummed vaguely. Vincent hugged him, his hand resting perfectly on the slender waist Star had exposed. The young man’s skin was smooth, delicate, and slightly cool, but it soon warmed to the temperature of Vincent’s palm. Vincent stroked his back, holding him tighter, and as he breathed in the scent of Star’s hair, he began to feel drowsy.
The Hawaiian night was comfortable, the temperature was just right, and occasionally, an insect chirped. The sky gradually began to brighten. Vincent slept exceptionally soundly this time, only opening his eyes when it was fully bright.
The person in his arms was quiet and well-behaved, looking like a doll. Vincent kissed the mole at the corner of his eye gently. It seemed the psychologist was right.
Star had actually been half-asleep, as he did not sleep well with others around. He woke up the moment Vincent kissed him.
“Morning, sir…” he murmured, half-opening his eyes.
Vincent rubbed his head and got up to change. “Get up. Qin Yue is waiting.”
“Mm…” Star sat up, bleary-eyed.
As Vincent’s bathrobe slipped down, Star was instantly wide awake, his earlobes turning bright pink. As a man, even if he were the passive partner, he could not help but glance down at his own. It was truly a humiliation.
Vincent looked satisfied by his blank stare. “Not awake yet?”
“No, no…” Star flushed bright red, looked away, and scurried into the bathroom, splashing cold water on his face. He splashed four or five times until the redness finally faded.
When he emerged, Vincent was already ready. Vincent was dressed casually, wearing light-colored trousers and a cotton-linen shirt, looking like he was wearing a matching set with Star. When they reached the lobby, Qin Yue whistled. “Wow, you two really look like a perfect pair.”
Star gave an awkward smile.
“Let us go.” Qin Yue led the way while smoking, not heading toward the exit but to the elevator. The elevator went straight to the top floor, where a staff member was already waiting.
As the door to the rooftop opened, a wave of heat washed over them. A black helicopter sat on the helipad. Fabian gasped in excitement and started taking photos. Star leaned against Vincent, waiting to board.
Vincent wrapped an arm around his shoulder. “Ever flown in one?”
Star nodded. “Yes.” A dozen times, perhaps. He had flown in them wearing a tuxedo and smoking a cigar. He had flown in them wearing a bulletproof vest while holding an assault rifle.