“The first time you saw me?” This remark felt somewhat subtle, especially since their initial encounter had been quite awkward, with all the eavesdropping and infidelity. Their identities were different, their positions at odds. Zhou Jun didn’t believe that, in that moment, Yong Jin’s mind would have been preoccupied with whether silk suited him.

Outside the bathroom was the guest bedroom, with a soft white bed and a deep blue carpet. Zhou Jun felt at home, walking barefoot from the bathroom. However, given his injuries, his legs weren’t very nimble. He left behind a trail of wet footprints on the floor and sat on the bed, leaning against the headboard, his legs curled up in the soft bedding. Only now did he truly feel the weariness that washed over him after the great ordeal.

The abrasions on his hands, having soaked in water, were now covered in a layer of white foam, which made Zhou Jun frown and feel somewhat disgusted. Yong Jin brought out the medicine, casually pulled up a chair, and sat down, prompting Zhou Jun to expose his injuries so he could apply the ointment.

Zhou Jun didn’t respond or comply. Instead, he turned over and leaned against the headboard, his slightly damp hair softly touching the pillow. Yong Jin watched as Zhou Jun, appearing extremely tired, opened his eyes, his cheeks still flushed from the bath. Zhou Jun reached out his hand, his fingers tugging at the cord of the bedside lamp. Click, click, the light flickered on and off, then on again.

In the dim light, Zhou Jun’s silhouette seemed to glow. Yong Jin reached out and grasped his restless hand, pulling it in front of him. The back of Zhou Jun’s hand was injured, and so was his palm. Yong Jin slowly straightened Zhou Jun’s fingers, but just as he was distracted and about to reach for the medicine, Zhou Jun’s hand slipped out of his grasp—not retracting, but instead moving upward to touch Yong Jin’s face.

The light was on, and the glow beautifully blended with Zhou Jun’s eyes, transforming them into a deep blue. The patterns of his irises and slightly dilated pupils became strikingly clear, as if brimming with emotion. They reflected Yong Jin’s outline, leaving nothing hidden within.

Zhou Jun’s fingers brushed against Yong Jin’s face, which felt cool and smooth despite its firmness. Perhaps it was the contrast with Zhou Jun’s warm hand that made it feel like a gentle refuge in that moment. He explored Yong Jin’s features with ease, tracing his brow, eyes, nose, and lips. As his index finger lightly traced the edge of Yong Jin’s lower lip, he felt it tremble softly beneath his touch.

Yong Jin’s gaze gradually deepened as he grabbed Zhou Jun’s wrist. His voice, for some reason, was a bit hoarse: “Doesn’t  it hurt anymore?” Zhou Jun seemed not to understand, shaking his head then nodded slightly: “It hurts.” His voice carried a hint of grievance. He pointed his index finger at Yong Jin’s lower lip: “Why were you there? Were you following me?”

Yong Jin’s lips moved, and he smiled: “Mr. Zhou, I was just passing by.” His hand was pulled down, and the medicine was applied to the wound, making it sting and itch. Yong Jin asked, “Do you think I’m following you?”

Zhou Jun had a subtle expression: “Maybe.” He didn’t say more and instead sat up, loosening his belt. It was a golden robe, and now the smooth fabric was slipping away from his body, quickly sliding down his arms and piling up at his wrists. He was left bare, from his neck down to his ankles, completely exposed.

On his chest were two spots, and between his legs was hair. His clothes did nothing to hide him, leaving him completely exposed in front of Yong Jin. He laughed seductively. “Colonel Yong, I appreciate you taking care of all my injuries.”

Seemingly unable to tolerate his provocation, Yong Jin frowned and stepped closer, roughly flipping him over. Zhou Jun supported himself as he knelt on the bed with his face down. The robe covered his hips but left his upper body bare. Disinfectant was poured on his back, spreading across his skin.

He could feel the chemical solution aggressively penetrating his wounds. Zhou Jun clutched the pillow, frowning as he endured the pain. After confirming certain things, he said, “Colonel Yong, you clearly have no interest in men. Why do you keep provoking me?” Yong Jin paused his movements, the medical cotton ball pressing against Zhou Jun’s wound, remaining still for a moment.

Zhou Jun shifted into a more comfortable position, resting on his arms. His voice muffled as it came from the crook of his elbow: “I was wondering from the start why you always had me facing away from you. Today, I finally understand—you really do treat me like a woman. What does that mean? Is it because of Shirley that you want to humiliate me?”

The more he spoke, the more ridiculous it became, so ridiculous that he even laughed out loud. “You can’t be that boring, so what’s the real reason? Just explain it clearly.” No sooner had he finished speaking than he felt a grip on the back of his neck. Yong Jin’s hand lingered there for a moment before moving to rub his hair and earlobe. Then he turned Zhou Jun’s face to look at him. “Do you think this is humiliation…?”

Zhou Jun suddenly wrapped his arms around Yong Jin. “No, I think it’s seduction.” In the next moment, he pulled Yong Jin down, his body wrapping around the man like entangled water plants, soft yet strong. Finally, he felt Yong Jin’s lips, warm as he had imagined. Zhou Jun sighed softly, almost like a moan, turning his face slightly as he skillfully and actively captured Yong Jin’s lips.

Zhou Jun found Yong Jin’s lips tightly shut, unyielding and unresponsive. He gently pressed against them, nuzzling his nose against Yong Jin’s cheek, and skillfully pushed his tongue to pry open Yong Jin’s lips, trying to explore inside. Suddenly, his hair at the back of his head was grabbed and roughly yanked back.

Their lips parted, the strands of moisture still connecting them, not yet broken. Zhou Jun winced slightly in pain, but the corners of his lips curled up in a grin. He extended his tongue to lick the strands away and drew it back into his mouth, saying, “The taste of the major general is quite nice.” Yong Jin’s expression darkened, as if he were offended, his demeanor cold, but his red, kissed lips revealed a hint of heated intimacy.

Yong Jin was clearly unhappy, and Zhou Jun couldn’t tell if it was disgust or just feeling offended. But the next moment, he understood. Yong Jin kissed him again, this time with a forceful and aggressive intent, no longer pretending to be gentle. Zhou Jun was pushed against the headboard, his bare back pressed against the wooden furniture.

The air was stolen away, and his mind was a blur. Hoarse moans slipped from their entwined lips. Yong Jin’s hand moved from the back of Zhou Jun’s head to his neck, gripping his throat and slowly tightening. The kisses grew more forceful, almost like biting, and in a daze, Zhou Jun seemed to taste blood.

The hand around his throat intensified Zhou Jun’s feeling of suffocation. Instinctively, he pushed against it, but just as he felt himself about to pass out, the grip on his neck suddenly released, and air rushed into his throat. Driven by instinct, he gasped for breath. Yong Jin’s lips were hot and wet against his chin, kissing down to his neck, where he bit down hard.

In the midst of the chaos, the robe covering his chest was suddenly lifted. His nipples stiffened as if stimulated, he could almost feel Yong Jin’s hot breath. Zhou Jun seemed to guess what Yong Jin was about to do, tension gripping his lower abdomen. He stared intently at Yong Jin’s lips, his chest rising and falling as he gasped, a strange expectation overwhelming his senses.

Then, in the next moment, the phone in the room rang abruptly.