Just fuck me
Chapter 3, Section 1
The hot water was running in the bathroom. I was squatting on the floor picking up clothes when I heard the footsteps at the door stop.
"Did you pick it up?" Zhao Yin's voice came through the sound of water, a little muffled.
I stood up, holding the wet corner of my clothes, and almost bumped into the door frame when I turned around.
He reached out and supported me, his palm resting on my back.
"Hold on." He withdrew his hand and his eyes fell on the clothes in my hand. "How did it fall off?"
"You scared me." I threw the clothes into the basin, the sound of water drowning out my trembling voice. "I told you not to help me, I can wash it myself."
He didn't say anything, but just bent down and moved the small stool towards the shower area, the plastic legs making a slight sound as they rubbed against the tiles.
"Lift your feet up."
I obediently put my injured leg up and watched him add cold water to the bucket. The sound of the flowing water was louder than the sound of rain.
"How's the water temperature?" He tested the water temperature and brushed the back of his hand against my ankle. I flinched and he glanced up at me. "Are you ticklish?"
"No." I retorted with my neck stiff, but saw the corner of his mouth curl up.
He picked up a washcloth and dipped it in shower gel. As soon as the foam reached my calves, I couldn't help but pull back: "I can do it myself!"
"Don't move." He pressed my knees, not hard, but with an air of urgency. "If you move again, I'll splash water all over you."
I really didn't dare to move.
The warm foam slid down his calf. His movements were very gentle, and he even used less force when brushing the edge of the wound.
I stared at him and remembered that one year he signed his name with his head down like this.
"What are you thinking about?" he asked suddenly.
"Nothing." I quickly looked away, staring at the water stains on the tiles. "Does Teacher Zhao usually give others baths like this?"
He paused, and the foam piled up into a small mountain between his fingers.
"Have you ever seen me help someone?"
This question left me speechless.
I have indeed never seen it before. Zhao Yin always seems distant in front of and behind the camera. Even when handing things over, there is rarely any physical contact, let alone helping someone wipe their legs at such a close distance.
"That's right." I muttered quietly, "After all, I am a wounded soldier."
He didn't respond, but just wrung out the towel and started to wipe my feet.
His fingertips occasionally touched the soles of my feet, and he always held me down accurately, repeating the words "Don't move".
It was not until he finished wiping for the last time and stood up that I realized that most of his sleeves were wet. The dark fabric stuck to his arms, and the outline of his muscles could be seen.
"Your clothes are wet." I pointed at his sleeve.
"It's okay." He moved the bucket aside. "Get out after you're done washing. Don't catch a cold."
I hopped out on one foot and just as I grabbed the door frame, I heard the sound of water stop behind me.
Looking back, he was bending over to pack his things, his wet cuffs hanging down, dripping two drops of water onto the tiles.
"that……"
I bit my lip. "I have a clean T-shirt in my suitcase. How about you change into that first?"
He looked up at me, his gaze lingering on my face for two seconds: "No need."
"But wet clothes are uncomfortable to wear."
I insisted that it was a spare pair I brought with me, and the collar was a little bigger than what I usually wear, so I didn't know if he could wear it.
He was silent for a few seconds, as if weighing the pros and cons, and finally nodded: "Where?"
I jumped back to the room and took out the white T-shirt from the bottom of the suitcase. When I handed it to him, my fingertips accidentally touched his hand. We both paused and then let go at the same time.
"Thank you." He took the clothes and turned to go into the bathroom. The moment he closed the door, I leaned against it and suddenly remembered the dumplings Xiao Chen stuffed into my mouth in the morning - my heartbeat at that time didn't seem to be as fast as it is now, right?
Chapter 3, Section 2
I was sitting on the edge of the bed drying my hair when I heard the bathroom door open.
Zhao Yin came out wearing my white T-shirt. The collar was a little loose, revealing a small part of her collarbone.
He is half a head taller than me, and the clothes look a little short on him, just covering his waistline.
"It's a little small." He tugged at the corner of his clothes, his tone flat, but it made me inexplicably think of the big dolls trying on children's clothes in the supermarket.
"As long as it's wearable." I threw the towel aside, not daring to look at it again. "I have other things in my suitcase, how about..."
"No need." He interrupted me and walked to the balcony to watch the rain. "The typhoon seems to be getting stronger."
The raindrops hit the glass with a crackling sound, and the wind blew the raindrops into the window cracks, making a humming sound.
I followed his gaze and saw the waves on the sea surging like a small mountain.
"The production team said we can get through tonight safely, right?" I made small talk.
"Yeah." He turned around and his eyes fell on the ends of my hair that hadn't been dried yet, "My hair isn't dry yet."
"Blow it right away." I took out the hair dryer and just plugged it in when I heard a "sizzle" sound and the room suddenly became dark.
The hairdryer stopped.
"Is there a power outage?" I subconsciously reached to the side, but my hand touched something warm - it was Zhao Yin's hand.
He seemed stunned for a moment, then he grabbed my wrist and pulled me towards the bed: "Sit still and don't move."
"Oh." I sat down obediently. I could feel him groping for something. Amidst the rustling sounds, a faint light suddenly appeared.
It's the star night light.
He placed the lamp on the bedside table. The pale blue light illuminated half of his face, and there seemed to be moisture on his eyelashes.
"Don't be afraid."
"I'm not scared." I said stubbornly, but I couldn't help but move closer to him, my knees touching his. "It's just that it got dark suddenly, and I'm a little uncomfortable."
He didn't say anything, just leaned towards me, and the light from the night light cast an interlaced shadow between us.
I could smell the shower gel on him, which was the same one I used - the rose scent distributed by the program crew. It seemed ordinary at other times, but at this moment it felt particularly refreshing.
"Teacher Zhao." I suddenly spoke.
"Um?"
"Why..." I wanted to ask him why he was so nice to me, but I felt that was too straightforward, so I beat around the bush, "Why do you remember that I like mangoes?"
He was silent for a few seconds, the light of the night light flickering in his eyes.
"Backstage at the awards ceremony, your assistant said you were allergic to mangoes."
I was stunned: "Huh? I'm not allergic."
"She means you're allergic to mango mousse—"
He paused, as if thinking about how to phrase it, "She said you didn't eat a single bite and she didn't want it to be wasted, so she asked her to take it away."
Then I remembered that the mango mousse that day was too sweet and I really didn’t finish it.
But he had his back to us at the time, so how could he hear what Xiao Chen said?
"Then why do you buy mangoes?" I whispered.
"Then I saw you eating mango sago and you were enjoying it very much. I guess the mousse you had that day wasn't to your liking."
He even remembered how I ate desserts on variety shows.
The sound of rain seemed to have subsided. I stared at his hand on his knee. The finger with the Band-Aid on it was slightly curled up. Suddenly I remembered that his fingertips were like that when he was wiping my feet just now, with a bit of cautious tenderness.
"Teacher Zhao," I said again, my voice a little lower than before, "Your clothes..."
"Um?"
"I'll help you wash it tomorrow." I regretted it the moment I said it. It seemed a bit too proactive.
He nodded: "Okay."
The night light suddenly flickered, as if there was a bad contact.
He reached out to adjust it, and when his fingertips touched the switch, I reached out too, and our hands bumped into each other...
The light brightened a little, illuminating his slightly red face.
Chapter 3, Section 3
After an unknown amount of time, there was a knock on the door, and Xiao Chen's voice drifted in through the door: "Teacher Wen! Teacher Zhao! Are you all right? The production team has prepared candles!"
Zhao Yin got up to open the door. The cold wind blew in through the crack in the door and I sneezed.
He glanced back at me and closed the door until only a crack remained: "We are fine, no need for candles."
"But the power is out, aren't you scared?"
Xiao Chen's voice was filled with curiosity. "I just saw the female guest and the director playing poker in the living room. Do you want to join in a round?"
"No." Zhao Yin's voice was emotionless. "He has a foot injury, so it's not convenient for him."
This is the reason again.
I rolled my eyes inwardly.
Xiao Chen wanted to say something but was pulled away by the person next to him, and the footsteps gradually faded away.
Zhao Yin closed the door and kicked the slippers on the ground when he turned around, making a slight sound.
"Want to go to the living room?" he asked me.
"No." I huddled under the covers. "Playing poker is boring."
In fact, I was afraid that after I went there, I would be teased and laughed at by everyone.
The hot search for "Feeding Sugar" just now has not gone down yet. If we are photographed again, I guess we will dominate the hot search list tomorrow.
He seemed to see through my thoughts and didn't insist anymore. He just walked to the bed and sat down. The light from the night light just happened to shine on his shoulders.
"Then stay."
The room became quiet again, with only the sound of rain and wind.
I stared at the water stains on the ceiling and suddenly felt a little sleepy, and my eyelids became heavier and heavier.
I felt someone pull the blanket over me as I drifted off to sleep. I leaned towards the heat source and bumped into something warm, like a silent mountain.
"Don't move." His voice sounded in my ears, very low, as if he was afraid of waking me up.
I obediently stayed still, my nose brushing against the corner of his clothes, and I could smell the rose-scented shower gel, mixed with a hint of tea. It was the scent from his enamel pot.
I don’t know how long I slept before I was woken up by the cold.
I moved and found myself leaning on Zhao Yin's shoulder. His head was tilted on top of my head, and his breathing was even. He must have fallen asleep.
His T-shirt was still damp, sticking to me, and I could feel his body heat coming through the fabric. I tried to move away cautiously, but he suddenly moved, wrapping his arms around my waist and pulling me closer to him.
"Don't move..." His voice was hoarse from just waking up, like a feather scratching my heart.
My heartbeat suddenly exploded and I froze in his arms, not daring to move.
His chest was pressed against my back, warm and firm, and his breath felt itchy in the crook of my neck.
In the darkness, I could clearly hear his heartbeat, overlapping with my own, boom, boom, boom, like beating on a drum.
After an unknown amount of time, his breathing became even again. He must have fallen asleep again.
But I was completely awake, staring at the faint light coming through the gap in the curtains with my eyes open, and felt the arm around my waist tighten a little.
This guy...
I sighed in my heart, but couldn't help but lean into his arms again.
Never mind, he doesn't know anyway.
Chapter 3, Section 4
When I woke up again, it was already dawn.
The rain outside the window stopped and the wind died down, with only a few clouds floating slowly in the sky.
I found myself still nestled in Zhao Yin's arms, his arms still around my waist, but the strength had loosened a little.
I carefully moved his hand away and just as I was about to get up, I met a pair of sleepy eyes.
He was obviously still asleep, his eyes were a little dazed. He stared at me for a few seconds before slowly blinking: "Awake?"
"Yeah." I quickly looked away, "It's dawn."
He sat up and rubbed his neck, the collar of his T-shirt sliding down a little, revealing more of his collarbone.
"It seems like a call is coming."
Only then did I realize that the night light on the bedside table had gone out at some point.
He reached out and pressed the switch of the desk lamp. The warm yellow light immediately illuminated the room, and I subconsciously squinted.
"Does your foot still hurt?" he asked, his eyes fixed on my ankle.
"It doesn't hurt anymore." I moved my toes and it really didn't hurt as much as yesterday.
He nodded, and paused as he stood up, probably because his waist was sore from staying in the same position for too long.
I watched him walk to the balcony and draw open the curtains.
"The typhoon has passed," he said.
I leaned over to take a look. The waves on the sea were much smaller. The sunlight shone through the clouds onto the water, sparkling like broken gold.
The air is fresh after the rain, and you can smell the fragrance of gardenias coming from afar.
"We should be able to record the bonfire party today, right?" I asked.
"I don't know." He turned to look at me, his eyes lingering on my face for two seconds, "Your hair is messy."
I reached out to touch it, and sure enough, I felt a tuft of sticky hair.
Just as he was about to press it down, he suddenly reached out, touched the top of my head with his fingertips, and pressed the tuft of hair down.
"Okay." He withdrew his hand and turned to walk to the door. "I'll go check on breakfast."
The moment the door closed, I leaned on the balcony railing, touched my head, and suddenly remembered the feeling of nestling in his arms last night. It turns out that when the iceberg melts, it is so hot.
My phone vibrated on the bedside table. I walked over to pick it up and saw it was a WeChat message from Xiao Chen: [Teacher Wen! Check Weibo! #赵银文熙同房过夜# is already the number one trending search!]
I opened Weibo and saw the hot search term followed by the word "explosion".
When I clicked on it, I saw that it was the photo Xiao Chen took last night.
Zhao Yin was standing at the door. I peeked out from behind him. The background was a dark room with a caption: "Power outage during typhoon, Brother Yin and Brother Xi squeezed into one room. Who understands?"
The comment section has exploded:
[Ahhh, rooming together! I knew it! Mommy loves you guys!]
[Look at Wenxi's little head, he must be sleeping on Yin Ge's shoulder! ]
[Zhao Yin's clothes seem to belong to Wen Xi! I've seen Wen Xi wearing a white T-shirt before!]
[The microscope girl upstairs! I think so! So where's Yin's clothes?!]
[Wet, right?! The power went out during the typhoon, so there must have been no hot water for showering, and then… (I don’t dare to think about it)]
I looked at the comment and my face turned red.
It would be a waste of the imagination of these netizens if they didn’t use it to write scripts.
Just as I was about to log out of Weibo, my phone vibrated again. It was a new message from an unmarked number: [Are you awake? We have your favorite soft-boiled eggs downstairs.]
I was stunned for a moment, then realized that this was Zhao Yin's number.
His assistant gave it to me backstage at the last awards ceremony, saying that if there was an emergency I could call this number. I had saved it for five years and never called it once.
When did he save my number?
My finger hovered over the screen, wanting to reply, but it felt too deliberate.
In the end, I just replied with "hmm".
When I put down my phone, the corners of my mouth couldn't help but curl up.
It seems that today will be a very "lively" day.
(Just messing with me!)
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