“Shh,” Shan Qi glanced at the open door. “Let’s start now and finish before he comes back.”
“Delay any longer…” he hinted meaningfully, “and your husband will really be back.”
Yan Chuan’s eyelashes trembled slightly.
Hot lips descended, lingering on his pale cheeks, and it dawned on Yan Chuan that he had nodded in agreement.
In order to complete the mission and ascertain the criteria for the escape task, he agreed to Shan Qi’s request to avoid alerting his husband.
He found himself doing something wrong with one of his “lovers” at home.
Behind his husband’s back, who had been affectionate with him not long ago—his lips still tinged with the marks left by a man—he was poised to kiss an outside stranger.
The living room lights were exceptionally bright, and cold air streamed in from the unclosed door, causing Yan Chuan’s exposed pale legs to shrink slightly.
It was a bit chilly… and his husband could return at any moment, interrupting the illicit rendezvous.
Without realizing it, Yan Chuan expressed his thoughts aloud, prompting Shan Qi to move slightly. He merely shifted his embrace to block the wind with his body.
His tall frame shielded Yan Chuan, so the cold was alleviated. However, Yan Chuan found his waist naturally enveloped in Shan Qi’s strong embrace, fingers gripping tightly, binding him.
Yan Chuan felt unaccustomed to such intimacy, instinctively trying to shy away, but Shan Qi tightened his grasp.
It felt as if he were afraid of Yan Chuan escaping, combining anticipation and nervousness.
It seemed that Shan Qi was not very experienced; as he held Yan Chuan’s shoulder, his heated kisses landed haphazardly on Yan Chuan’s forehead and cheeks, even brushing the side of his neck when he evaded.
He appeared fierce, nearly devouring him with a glare, yet he didn’t truly kiss him.
Shan Qi’s lips were warm, carrying an imperceptible tremor, lingering on Yan Chuan’s snow-white cheeks.
As he slightly turned his face, Yan Chuan caught sight of a row of tattoos behind Shan Qi’s ear.
A series of ornate letters whose meaning was unknown, extending down toward the nape of his neck.
The owner of the tattoo exhaled warmly, the skin on Yan Chuan’s collarbone flushed, igniting a barely spoken itch within him.
Shan Qi’s appearance was quite aggressive; with deep black eyebrows and eyes, a sharp jawline, and short, coarse hair.
This was torment for Yan Chuan, who felt Shan Qi pressing against him. Like a large dog seeking comfort from its owner, he was almost enveloped in Shan Qi’s embrace, causing discomfort to the exposed skin.
Moreover, several minutes had passed, and Shan Qi had yet to press his lips to Yan Chuan’s.
Was he… unable to do it?
Yan Chuan felt a sense of confusion, watching Shan Qi nuzzle against his neck, his earlobes slightly reddened.
Just a moment ago, he had spoken so naturally, yet was he still blushing?
“Not there,” Yan Chuan’s cheeks flushed with warmth. Fearing the delay, he had to remind Shan Qi: “You’re kissing the wrong spot…”
His voice was soft, suddenly hoarse as he spoke, resembling a child coaxing.
Shan Qi, still buried in the crook of Yan Chuan’s neck, lifted his head, awkwardly meeting Yan Chuan’s gaze.
Yan Chuan’s eyelashes fluttered, his eyes glimmering with a subtle mist. The jet-black, translucent pupils glistened, filled with focus, pure as a dewdrop on fresh leaves.
Reflected within them was a small image of Shan Qi.
Outside of his vision, Shan Qi stood dazed, looking like a silly goose as he stared at Yan Chuan’s fair and beautiful face, which was now close enough for him to see a faint blush at the corner of his eyes.
Then, a cool kiss landed on the corners of his lips.
“Here,” Yan Chuan felt a rush of impatience, leaning in to find Shan Qi’s lips, demonstrating how it should be done, urging him: “Hurry, he really will be back.”
Shan Qi remained still, pursing his lips, and finally decided to simply carry out the act himself.
Intimacy… a mere kiss should suffice, right?
Considering Shan Qi’s earlier actions, Yan Chuan thought it should meet the task’s requirements somehow.
At worst, they could continue tomorrow.
“All fixed.”
His husband returned from next door, tossing out a broken section of pipe and wiping off the water that had accidentally splashed onto his clothes.
It hadn’t been ten minutes, and the living room was left only with his beautiful wife.
The kitchen’s water valve was also repaired, tools set aside, and the handyman was already gone.
“Hmm,” Yan Chuan thoughtfully passed over some clothes: “The neighbor has gone back.”
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