The thick veil of night enveloped the entire villa so completely that even the wind ceased, as if out of consideration, leaving the area swallowed by silence.
A click from the door lock broke the stillness. Qi Ming reached up to press against the bedroom door. Just as he was about to exert force to push it open, the cool air in front of him was replaced by a rush of eager breath from beside him.
His shoulders were grabbed, and Cui Yuxuan pressed himself straight against him from the front with a fervor that brooked no refusal.
Amidst the entanglement of lips and teeth, the door, not yet fully opened, was suddenly shoved wide by the young man’s shoulder, slamming against the wall with a bang.
It only rebounded once before Cui Yuxuan pinned it firmly shut with his body.
The door swung completely open. The voice-activated wall light in the villa hallway flickered on, casting the two overlapping shadows into long shapes, imprinted onto the carpet at the entrance of the bedroom.
Amidst their interlaced breathing, Cui Yuxuan raised both hands to cradle Qi Ming’s cheeks, his thumb pads rubbing against the hair at his temples. The baseball cap that had been on his head slipped from behind him and fell to the floor.
As if unwilling to give him any chance to go back on his word, Qi Ming was almost dragged and pulled by Cui Yuxuan, forced to embed himself against the door.
Qi Ming lowered his eyes, his clear, jade-like pupils rotating slowly as he stared at the face beneath him, naturally intoxicated and flushed. He chuckled inwardly:
What a little wolf, starving and biting blindly. Naive and simple, having no idea what is to come.
Feeling the young man’s chaotic licking and gnawing on his lips, Qi Ming did not retreat; instead, he took a step forward. He raised his right knee, wedged it in, and pressed against the gently swaying door panel.
Qi Ming reached out his left hand, resting it on the back of Cui Yuxuan’s neck, his fingers firmly gripping the arc of the cervical vertebrae that protruded as the other tilted his head back.
His lips responded with composure, unhurried. The air, already ignited and melted, seemed to be gently pushed by an invisible hand toward a predetermined path.
Every breath from the man carried his habitual steady gentleness, smoothing out the other’s excessively hurried and messy rhythm bit by bit.
It made Cui Yuxuan recall when he was just starting to learn the language, how patiently Qi Ming had taught him pronunciation, helping him smooth out the tricky lyrics one by one.
No matter how clumsy he appeared, Qi Ming would only gently pat his head and say with a smile:
“Don’t rush.”
The captain back then was just as immensely reassuring as he was now. This sense of security made Cui Yuxuan feel even more at a loss; he desperately wanted to become the unique existence in the other’s world.
Not just one of the members Qi Ming cared for and protected.
He did not want this “one of.” He wanted to be the “only one” in Qi Ming’s eyes.
For this foolish obsession, Cui Yuxuan nearly abandoned his own breathing, madly trying to extract the nectar from the other’s mouth like a lost soul controlled by survival instincts.
But he was not lost; he was a lovesick man controlled by Qi Ming. Only Qi Ming’s love could make him breathe and make him live.
Gradually, Cui Yuxuan’s cheeks flushed a deep red from lack of oxygen, yet he remained unsatisfied. Finally, it was Qi Ming who lifted his head, pinching his neck to pull him away.
Qi Ming freed one hand and deftly pulled the door shut. His breath was only slightly ruffled for a few moments before it immediately returned to calmness.
As Cui Yuxuan lowered his head to gasp for air in disarray, the two walked into the room, maintaining their embrace.
Before Qi Ming reached the bedside, Cui Yuxuan’s left hand was already on his clothes, clutching the collar of his black T-shirt. This time, Qi Ming did not let him tear his shirt again.
He gripped Cui Yuxuan’s wrists and, with irresistible force, pressed him onto the bed. When the other lifted his neck to kiss him again, he turned his head and dodged.
“Don’t rush,” Qi Ming said with a smile, his clear voice tinged with hoarseness.
“No, Brother, don’t push me away again, okay?” Cui Yuxuan’s hair spread across the dark blue bedsheets, his chest heaving violently, his eyes overflowing with pleading as he stared at Qi Ming.
Qi Ming did not answer. He straightened his upper body, as if he hadn’t heard Cui Yuxuan at all, and reached his hand into his jacket pocket, slowly rummaging through it.
To Cui Yuxuan, that pocket seemed like a bottomless pit; Qi Ming took an eternity to fish something out.
Just as his eyes grew sore and watery, Qi Ming finally pulled some items from the bottomless pit. Cui Yuxuan looked at his palm, stunned for a moment, before realizing the most important thing, a detail he had completely thrown to the back of his mind since entering the door.
“We haven’t showered yet.” Qi Ming tucked the items into Cui Yuxuan’s palm, released the wrists he was pinning down, and raised an eyebrow at him. “You don’t need me to teach you how to wash, do you?”
Of course not. Yesterday evening, Cui Yuxuan had been too excited to sleep and had studied it meticulously.
“However, if Xiao Xuan really doesn’t know how, I can help you.”
Qi Ming appeared very eager to help. But Cui Yuxuan bounced up from the bed like a startled bird. Shaking his head, he stumbled toward the bathroom:
“I really don’t need it this time, Brother, I can do it myself!”
Thinking about that scene was just too terrible. Cui Yuxuan still cared deeply about his image in front of Qi Ming and absolutely did not want the other to see him in such a disheveled state.
Watching the bathroom door close, Qi Ming shrugged. He had known all along that the kid was vain and wouldn’t let him help, which was why he had asked so casually.
If Cui Yuxuan had truly cast aside his pride and wanted Qi Ming to help him, he would have felt rather troubled.
Because these kinds of things, Qi Ming never did for others himself; he always let the other person handle it, whether before or after.
On one hand, it was his obsessive-compulsiveness; on the other, he was simply too lazy.
It was a consensual act; there was no need for him, as the one on top, to act as if he were taking advantage of someone and then have to pay extra.
Who knew who was taking advantage of whom in the end?
Besides, wasn’t this what they were begging him for? Qi Ming never lacked choices. If they really thought he was cold and unfeeling, they could go find someone else; he was not going to cater to them.
If they truly did not know how, he would teach them verbally. That was the best Qi Ming could do.
Of course, on the surface, he acted quite well and would not voice his distaste. Qi Ming never forced anyone; basically, he let people do it willingly.
Things gained through force were meaningless; he did not crave them. Qi Ming considered himself without that kind of perverse obsession for the “fragile beauty” of someone being stubborn and reluctant yet acting strong when forced.
He had always stayed away from that type. Do not even ask; it was always “the ancestors.” They would say “don’t,” but their bodies were more honest than anyone else’s.
Since he had yielded his own bedroom bathroom to Cui Yuxuan, Qi Ming grabbed a bath towel and went to wash in the other’s room.
Sure enough, Cui Yuxuan had secretly bought the same white peach-scented body wash as him. Even the toothbrush and toothpaste cup were the same style, just in a different color.
After washing, Qi Ming did not put on any clothes; he simply wrapped the towel around his waist and tied it casually.
The man’s muscles were firm but not exaggerated; every graceful line was the result of long years of high-intensity dance training.
Qi Ming opened the door to find that Cui Yuxuan had also finished and was sitting cross-legged on his bed, stark naked. The moment he saw him, the other’s eyes lit up, and he scrambled over without even putting on slippers.
He opened his arms, once again accepting the kiss, full of love and sincerity, that the young man offered up.
Like catching a puppy wagging its tail as it ran toward him.
Their skin pressed together naturally, transferring warmth. In stark contrast to Qi Ming’s unhurried composure, Cui Yuxuan became more intoxicated with each kiss.
A long-cherished dream from years ago was finally being realized; how could he not be excited? He looked into the man’s long, narrow green eyes, as if seeing the brilliant nebula in the universe.
He was about to be sucked in.
His body and soul were about to be absorbed by this starry sky he had secretly watched for so long.
By the time Cui Yuxuan’s back sank into the soft mattress, his enthusiasm remained high. While greedily kissing, he tried to reach out to stroke Qi Ming’s solid chest.
The cold necklace brushed against Cui Yuxuan’s fingers, and the ring slammed into his finger bone, causing him a bit of pain. Qi Ming did not continue to tolerate the young man’s willfulness and told him not to move around:
“Cui Yuxuan, lie down.”
This kid loved kissing him far too much; his mouth seemed glued to him every second, almost turning into an octopus with a hundred suckers, clinging tightly and refusing to let go.
No matter how he pulled, he could not get him off.
How was he supposed to proceed with the next steps? Qi Ming felt a bit frustrated; he found that every experience of his was quite similar.
He did not know if it was his constitution or something else. Regardless of whether the person opposite was an Alpha, a Beta, or even a fragile Omega, everyone was like a dog that had not eaten in three days, refusing to let go of him, this “meat bone.”
In fact, sometimes it was not his fault for being too violent; it was clearly these people whose desires were too strong. He would be just a little bit gentle, and they would push it to the extreme.
Qi Ming’s tone was cold, causing Cui Yuxuan’s brain, burned fuzzy by passion, to suddenly sober up a bit.
He let go and obediently lay flat on the bed, apologizing to Qi Ming in embarrassment:
“I am sorry, huff, Brother, it is just that I am too, too impatient…”
Standing by the bed, Qi Ming looked down, ignoring Cui Yuxuan’s apology. He scanned the room and picked up the hoodies they had scattered on the floor.
Then, he pulled out the drawstring from the hood. Qi Ming gripped the metal tips on both ends and pulled hard to test the strength of the cord.
Not bad; it was thin and slightly rough on the surface.
“Hold your ankles.” Qi Ming’s tone was flat, without inflection. With a flick of his wrist, the drawstring he held whipped against the inside of Cui Yuxuan’s lower leg.
A red mark was quickly left on the wheat-colored skin.
It was a stinging pain, like a needle prick.
Cui Yuxuan bit his lip, enduring it. He dared not be reckless again and obeyed obediently.
The hoodie drawstring was long enough. Qi Ming knelt on the bed, folded the young man’s wrists, calves, and thighs together, and tied them in a dead knot.
Feeling the coldness, Cui Yuxuan rested his head against the headboard, shifting his body uneasily, only to find he could not move at all.
Qi Ming took out that purple bottle, tilted his wrist, and poured it directly.
Everything that followed, Cui Yuxuan felt he would never forget in this life.
There was the sharp pain as if being split in two by an axe, and the uncontrollable palpitations and joy when Qi Ming kissed his chest.
The man’s eyes were very tender.
Just by looking at him, it was as if he were being gently embraced by jade-green lake water. But in complete contrast to this tenderness were the merciless movements.
Qi Ming gave Cui Yuxuan almost no time to adapt. Even after a day of high-intensity vocal practice, his throat would not sound like this.
The initial screams had long since exhausted the young man’s strength. Now, only broken gasps and moans remained in his throat, intermittently spilling from lips bitten raw by his own teeth.
He even smelled the scent of blood. It was not from his mouth, but somewhere else. He could not feel it because his whole body was in pain.
Every inch of him could be the source.
The young man’s bound hands and legs had long cramped up and were gradually losing feeling.
Yet, Qi Ming reached out and used his thumb to gently rub away the bead of blood on Cui Yuxuan’s lip. He took a low breath and asked a question he already knew the answer to:
“Hah… is it very painful? Do you need me to be gentler?”
Could he say it hurt? He could not, and he would not.
Because everything Qi Ming gave, in Cui Yuxuan’s view, stemmed from his love. The more it hurt his body, the more it proved the other loved him.
Cui Yuxuan needed his love and craved this pain; it would make the love between them deeper.
“Ugh! No, no need, ah, ah, Brother, Brother, harder, go harder! It does not hurt at all… sob, hold me…”
Suddenly, Cui Yuxuan widened his eyes, pleading and wanting to touch himself. But Qi Ming smiled and pressed down on his struggling arms, kissed his thin eyelids, and told him:
“Xiao Xuan, you can do it. I believe in you.”
Did he really have this talent? He did not know.
But looking at the man’s face, stained with a faint flush from passion, Cui Yuxuan’s body began to tremble violently, even his toes curling like they were cramping.
Qi Ming had become like this because of him, because of him, Cui Yuxuan.
No one else could glimpse this beauty, like a deity descending to the mortal world, bestowing a kiss upon his cheek.
Cui Yuxuan told himself he could do it. He had to do it.
This was what Brother wanted. And therefore, it was what he wanted.
And at this very moment, no one but him could satisfy the other. Only him. For this, Cui Yuxuan felt dizzy with joy, unable to help but clench down.
It caused the man to chuckle and gasp a few times. Qi Ming explored, feeling Cui Yuxuan’s lower abdomen, maliciously tracing its shape with his fingertips as he asked:
“Xiao Xuan, tell me, what is this?”
“Ugh, no, I do not know, Brother, I do not…” Cui Yuxuan closed his eyes in shame.
But Qi Ming suddenly pursed his lips, straightened up in disappointment, and stopped his movements:
“Xiao Xuan, are you closing your eyes because you do not want to see me?”
“No!”
Hearing this, Cui Yuxuan did not care about the uncontrollable itchiness; he lifted his upper body in a panic, wanting to kiss Qi Ming’s lips to soothe him.
“Brother, I only, only want to look at you. Other than you, I do not look at anyone. You do not, mm, do not be sad.”
“Is that so? Then tell me.” Qi Ming put his hand back on Cui Yuxuan’s stomach, his soft voice carrying a mesmerizing, seductive magic.
Cui Yuxuan forced himself not to close his eyes and followed Qi Ming’s movement to look down, his cheeks flushed as if engorged with blood:
“It is Brother’s…”
“Then how does Xiao Xuan want me to do it?” he asked, tilting his head.
“I hope, I hope Brother will hold me harder.”
But Qi Ming still did not move. “Is anything fine?”
“Yes, yes, as long as Brother likes it.” Cui Yuxuan could not help but want to twist his body, but Qi Ming reached out and pressed him down.
He stared at the unfocused face before him and said understandingly: “No, you have to like it for it to work. Do you like this?”
“I like it, I like it, I like it so much…” Cui Yuxuan looked at Qi Ming, repeating it over and over, as if confessing his love to him again and again.
“What do you like?” On these matters, Qi Ming was always very patient.
“I like…” Cui Yuxuan traced Qi Ming’s brows and eyes with his gaze. He saw a bead of sweat fall from his forehead, run along the bridge of his nose, pass over his lips, and land between them.
“Being Brother’s puppy, toy, puppy toy! This is what I like the most!”
Cui Yuxuan suddenly spoke up, looking up at him expectantly. Sure enough, he received a head pat from Qi Ming:
“I like honest children. They receive rewards.”
After his black hair was dampened by sweat, Qi Ming raised his hand, casually brushing it back so it would not obstruct his view. He leaned down again, the muscles on both sides of his shoulders rising and falling slowly with his breathing.
The night outside the villa was deep. Not far away, the wind curled the seawater, slapping against the coastal reefs again and again.
That wind was not impatient; each gust was steady, yet it would stir up a small wave just when the late-returning passersby lowered their guard, intentionally provoking their exclamations before disappearing into the depths of the sea.
And what the passersby did not know was that the wind and waves waiting for them later would only be greater.
This was merely the precursor to the coming storm.