blow-dry hair

The sound of water in the bathroom stopped. A few minutes later, the door was opened, and steaming heat carrying the fresh scent of shower gel wafted out.

Tan Huaiyu, with her wet black hair, wearing soft light gray cotton loungewear, casually wiped the water droplets from her neck and face with a towel, and stood barefoot on the absorbent mat at the bathroom door.

He had just finished showering, his skin glowing a healthy pink from the steam, his eyes and brows still carrying a hint of languid weariness from the water. Water droplets rolled uncontrollably from the ends of his hair, a few playfully sliding down his fair nape and disappearing deep into his collar, leaving a few clear streaks.

In the living room, Qi Shuo was leaning back on the sofa reading a mechanical magazine when he heard the noise and looked up. When his gaze fell on Tan Huaiyu's constantly dripping hair, his brows furrowed almost imperceptibly.

You didn't dry it properly again. I've told you so many times, it's easy to catch a cold and get a headache.

Tan Huaiyu clearly didn't notice Qi Shuo's subtle change in expression, or rather, even if he did, he intended to "make the most of him." He casually draped a towel over his shoulder, his amber eyes appearing exceptionally clear under the warm yellow light of the bathroom, still slightly misty from the lingering moisture.

He tilted his head, looked at Qi Shuo on the sofa, and then extended his index finger, beckoning Qi Shuo.

The movement carried a hint of unintentional languor, and also an indescribable...invitation. Her fingers were fair and slender, the tips slightly pink from being soaked in hot water, drawing a beautiful arc in the air.

Qi Shuo's gaze moved from Tan Huaiyu's damp hair to his twitching fingers, then back to his slightly flushed cheeks and moist lips. A switch in his mind seemed to snap open with that simple yet suggestive gesture.

Want a kiss?

This was the first, and only, reasonable explanation that flashed through Qi Shuo's mind.

After all, your lover, who has just finished showering, is looking at you with wet eyes and even hooking their finger around you... isn't that obvious?

Although he felt it was a bit inappropriate to be in the living room, Qi Shuo had always found it difficult to refuse any request from Tan Huaiyu. He put down the magazine, stood up, and walked towards Tan Huaiyu.

As Tan Huaiyu watched him walk over, he even made a point of stepping aside. She thought to herself, "Hmm, he's quite considerate; he knows to offer to help me blow-dry my hair."

Qi Shuo walked up to him and stopped.

The two were very close, close enough to smell the scent of the same shower gel on each other, mixed with the fresh, moist air from Tan Huaiyu's recent shower.

Qi Shuo's gaze fell on Tan Huaiyu's slightly upturned face. His clear amber eyes looked at him with a hint of doubt, as if asking, "Why are you standing there? Go get the hairdryer."

But Qi Shuo automatically interpreted that look as "urging" and "expectation". Without further hesitation, he reached out, gently supporting the back of Tan Huaiyu's head with one hand and holding his shoulder with the other. Then, he lowered his head and kissed Tan Huaiyu's lips accurately and gently.

"Huh—?!"

Caught off guard, Tan Huaiyu's eyes widened instantly. A warm, soft touch came to her lips, carrying Qi Shuo's unique, reassuring scent.

He was completely stunned; his mind went blank.

Wait, what's going on? Wasn't he here to blow-dry my hair? How did they suddenly start kissing? Although he also likes Qi Shuo's kisses, the main thing right now is that my hair is dripping wet, bro!

The kiss wasn't deep; it was more like a gentle touch, carrying a sense of reassurance and inquiry. Qi Shuo quickly pulled back a little, but still maintained a very close distance, his nose almost brushing against Tan Huaiyu's, his deep eyes looking at him, seemingly waiting for feedback, or... to continue.

Tan Huaiyu was still in shock and confusion. The lingering sensation on his lips made his heart beat erratically, but the cold, damp feeling on his shoulder brought him back to his senses.

He blinked, tiny water droplets still clinging to his long eyelashes. He opened his mouth, about to ask a question—

"Wait!" Qi Shuo suddenly spoke, interrupting him before he could finish his sentence. His brows furrowed again, this time with obvious annoyance.

Tan Huaiyu was even more confused. She swallowed the words that were on the tip of her tongue and just stared at him with her wet eyes that seemed to say, "What are you doing?"

Qi Shuo's eyes regained their clarity, even taking on a stern look. He quickly took a half step back, placed his hands on Tan Huaiyu's shoulders, and gently pushed him away. His gaze swept seriously over Tan Huaiyu's still dripping hair and the piece of fabric on his shoulder that had been stained darker by the water.

"No," Qi Shuo's tone was firm and unwavering, mixed with a hint of self-reproach. "We can't kiss, at least not now."

"Huh?" Tan Huaiyu couldn't keep up with his pace at all and subconsciously uttered a single syllable.

Qi Shuo ignored his confusion, his brows furrowed, his tone even carrying a hint of reproach: "Tan Huaiyu, how many times have I told you to dry your hair immediately after showering, or at least wrap it in a dry towel? Look at you, water's dripping onto your clothes. Standing like that with wet hair under the air conditioner vent," he pointed to the air conditioner vent in the center of the living room, "you're very likely to catch a cold. Haven't you learned your lesson from the fever last time?"

The more he talked, the more he realized it made sense. He'd been completely bewitched; a mere flick of the finger had led him astray! The most urgent thing was to deal with his wet hair! What was he thinking?! If he caught a cold, he'd be the one in trouble!

Thinking of this, Qi Shuo, without saying a word, yanked the half-wet towel off Tan Huaiyu's shoulder. The action was somewhat rough, but it was clearly driven by anxiety.

He moved behind Tan Huaiyu, wrapped a towel around his still-dripping black hair, and began to vigorously, but not very gently, rub it, muttering to himself:

"You're such a grown-up, and you don't know how to take care of yourself! How can you run around with wet hair? And what's with the finger hook... what finger hook! If you want me to dry your hair, just say so! What if you catch a cold and have a headache? You'll be the one who suffers!"

Tan Huaiyu's head was pressed down by him, his hair was being ruffled like a large doll, and Qi Shuo's nagging, full of reproach and worry, was in his ears.

After the initial bewilderment subsided, a feeling of absurdity and amusement welled up inside me, followed by an irrepressible surge of burning sweetness from the depths of my heart.

So... he misunderstood, thinking I wanted a kiss? Then he kissed me and suddenly realized his hair was more important, so he "pulled back from the brink"?

That idiot...

Tan Huaiyu couldn't help but burst out laughing, his shoulders trembling slightly as he tried to hold back his laughter.

"You're still laughing?" Qi Shuo heard the laughter, his hands still moving, his tone even more dissatisfied. "Am I wrong? Who was it that lay in bed groaning and complaining for days after the last fever?"

“Yes, yes, you’re right, your boyfriend is right to teach you a lesson.” Tan Huaiyu readily agreed, but her voice was full of barely concealed laughter.

He obediently lowered his head, letting Qi Shuo ruffle his hair with a towel. The slight, barely perceptible helplessness he felt due to being misunderstood had long been washed away by Qi Shuo's clumsy yet sincere concern, leaving only tenderness and sweetness in his heart.

Qi Shuo heard the amusement in his words and unconsciously loosened his grip a little, but he still didn't let it go: "Good that you know. If I see you running around with wet hair again, see how I deal with you."

"How should we clean this up?" Tan Huaiyu turned her head slightly and glanced at Qi Shuo through the gap in the towel with her smiling eyes. Her tone was both provocative and alluring.

Qi Shuo's heart skipped a beat when he saw that look. He paused for a moment, then viciously and forcefully ruffled the man's hair twice, until the soft strands were a mess, like a bird's nest. "You're forbidden from eating sweet and sour pork ribs for three days!"

"That won't do!" Tan Huaiyu immediately protested, trying to turn his head away, but Qi Shuo's large hand held him firmly in place.

"Then you'd better dry your hair properly." Qi Shuo finally used the towel to absorb most of the water from his hair. Although it was far from dry, at least it was no longer dripping. He put down the towel and looked at Tan Huaiyu with his messy hair, slightly flushed cheeks, and bright eyes looking at him. The annoyance in his heart had long since disappeared, leaving only a full and helpless doting affection.

"Go, sit down." He patted Tan Huaiyu on the back and pointed to the low stool next to the sofa. "I'll go get the hairdryer."

This time, Tan Huaiyu obediently said "Oh," walked to the low stool, and sat down with his back to Qi Shuo's direction. The corners of his mouth, however, couldn't be suppressed, turning upwards into a smile that he couldn't bring himself to hide.

Soon, the hairdryer began to hum, and warm air brushed against his scalp. Qi Shuo's fingers ran through his still-damp hair, gently manipulating it, allowing the warm air to evenly caress each strand. His movements were gentle, with a focused and careful tenderness, a stark contrast to his earlier "rough" wiping with a towel.

Tan Huaiyu squinted comfortably, like a cat being stroked. He leaned back slightly, his back pressed against Qi Shuo's firm abdomen.

Qi Shuo's body stiffened almost imperceptibly, but he didn't pull away. He simply ran his fingers through Qi Shuo's hair and asked in a low voice, "Is it hot?"

“Perfect,” Tan Huaiyu replied, his voice tinged with languid satisfaction.

The sound of the hairdryer became the only background noise at that moment. Warm air, gentle fingertips, and the steady breathing and body temperature of my loved one behind me. The air was filled with the fresh scent of shampoo and a silent, tranquil warmth.

His hair gradually dried, becoming fluffy and soft. Qi Shuo turned off the hairdryer, and the living room instantly fell silent. He ran his hand through Tan Huaiyu's hair one last time, his fingertips inadvertently brushing against the back of his neck.

Tan Huaiyu flinched, then chuckled softly, a hint of ticklishness in his voice.

Qi Shuo put down the hairdryer, looking at Tan Huaiyu's dry, fluffy hair and his slightly red, fair nape. His Adam's apple bobbed. The interrupted kiss and the unguarded, warm, and fragrant scene before him intertwined, stirring a stirring within him once more.

He bent down, wrapped his arms around Tan Huaiyu's shoulders from behind, and gently rested his chin on Tan Huaiyu's still warm, freshly dried hair. His voice was deep, with a barely perceptible hoarseness and a hint of ingratiation.

“Now,” he leaned close to Tan Huaiyu’s ear, his warm breath brushing against the sensitive earlobe, “your hair is dry, can we continue?”

Tan Huaiyu's ears turned red visibly. He pretended to be stupid, turned his head, and looked at Qi Shuo with his eyes, which had lost their clarity but were now full of laughter: "Continue what?"

Qi Shuo looked at the undisguised cunning and mischievousness in his eyes and knew he was doing it on purpose. He wasn't annoyed, but simply tightened his arms, pulling the man closer into his embrace, and then lowered his head to precisely capture the lips that had been slightly upturned as he suppressed a laugh, which hadn't been fully satisfied earlier.

This time, it was no longer a gentle test.

It was a deep, lingering kiss, filled with a sense of compensation and a clear yearning.

Only when both of them were slightly out of breath did Qi Shuo step back slightly, his forehead resting against Tan Huaiyu's. Looking into his watery eyes and reddened lips, he asked softly:

"You're beckoning me with your finger, so you want me to blow-dry your hair, huh?"

Tan Huaiyu, her body limp from the kiss, leaned against him. Hearing this, her eyes curved into crescents, filled with a triumphant, sweet smile. He reached out, his fingertips tracing circles on Qi Shuo's chest, his voice soft and gentle, carrying a languid aftertaste and a hint of reproach:

"Otherwise what? What does Teacher Qi think it is?"

Looking at his cunning yet alluring appearance, Qi Shuo felt an irresistible itch and couldn't help but lower his head and peck him on the lips again before chuckling and burying his face in his fresh, fragrant, and fluffy hair.

"I misunderstood." He readily admitted, his voice laced with indulgent laughter. "But, the result seems... not so bad?"

Tan Huaiyu chuckled softly in his arms, reached out and hugged his lean waist, pressed her face against his warm and firm chest, and listened to the steady and powerful heartbeat coming from there.

Hmm, it's not bad.

Although the process was a bit of a blunder, the ending was... heartwarming and sweet.

That's enough.