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The door lock clicked softly, letting in a cool evening breeze. Only one floor lamp was on in the living room, its warm yellow light gently enveloping the figure curled up on the sofa.
Qi Shuo didn't even have time to change his shoes before his gaze was drawn to that spot as if by a magnet.
The fatigue of a day's work and the hustle and bustle of the outside world were instantly isolated in another world. He walked straight over, still carrying the lingering scent of night dust, leaned down, and kissed those soft lips without saying a word.
It wasn't a deep exploration, but rather a series of eager, confirmatory pecks.
Dragonflies skimming the water, yet their presence is as dense as rain.
Tan Huaiyu was taken aback at first, but then he was amused by this sudden, childlike intimacy.
A smile involuntarily crept onto his lips, a muffled chuckle escaping his chest. As he laughed, he instinctively turned his head to dodge. "Stop it...it tickles..." His voice, still tinged with laughter, escaped indistinctly from between their joined lips.
Qi Shuo didn't answer, but simply stretched out his arm and scooped the person up from the sofa, pulling him tightly into his embrace. The hug was a bit too tight, causing Tan Huaiyu to let out a soft "hmm," but his laughter didn't stop.
Through the thin fabric, he could clearly feel the thickness of the other's chest and the slightly higher body temperature emanating from the fabric. There was also the familiar scent of Qi Shuo, mixed with a faint smell of tobacco and engine oil, which now carried a strange, reassuring aggressiveness.
Tan Huaiyu's heart skipped a beat, then began to race uncontrollably. He instinctively tried to find something to ease the suddenly heated and unsettling atmosphere.
Her fingers twitched unconsciously, and then, as if bewitched by something, with a hint of curiosity and a touch of probing, they quietly slipped inside Qi Shuo's waist hem.
My fingertips touched the firm, warm skin, feeling the distinct muscle lines beneath the fabric. Those were powerful lines formed by long hours of labor.
Tan Huaiyu's fingertips traced the path lightly, with a slight, almost imperceptible tremor.
Qi Shuo's body suddenly tensed, like a fully drawn bow. His breathing became heavy and could be clearly heard in the quiet living room.
He paused, stepped back slightly, and looked down at the person in his arms. His eyes were deep, like dark clouds gathering before a sudden rainstorm, churning with emotions that Tan Huaiyu couldn't understand, yet instinctively felt a tremor in his heart.
"What are you doing?" Qi Shuo's voice was lower and hoarse than usual, carrying a restrained yet dangerous tone.
Tan Huaiyu looked up at him, his amber eyes appearing moist in the warm light. He pursed his lips and said softly, with a hint of unease, "Just... a touch."
The air seemed to freeze for a moment.
"Just a touch?" Qi Shuo's voice was even hoarseer, his gaze fixed on him, not missing any subtle changes on his face.
Tan Huaiyu's heart skipped a beat when he looked at her, and a strange feeling, a mixture of shyness and rebellion, welled up inside her.
He lightly traced his fingertip across those firm abdominal muscles again, as if in provocation, or perhaps as further confirmation.
He heard his own voice, with a barely perceptible, almost cheeky tone: "Then... two times?"
Qi Shuo didn't speak, but his deep eyes seemed to darken even more, becoming so intense they seemed impossible to ignore. He closed his eyes briefly, his Adam's apple bobbing violently, as if he were trying his best to suppress something.
Looking at his taut jawline and his constantly bobbing Adam's apple, Tan Huaiyu felt her mischievousness and curiosity grow wildly like weeds.
He tentatively raised his hand again, his fingertips about to touch that burning skin once more—
The next second, the world spun around.
No, it wasn't spinning; it was being forcefully pressed down by an irresistible force. My back sank into the soft sofa cushions, and the light in front of me was completely blocked by Qi Shuo's broad shoulders.
A passionate kiss, tinged with punishment and plunder, suffocated all his unspoken words and gasps.
This kiss was completely different from the previous peck. It was fierce, urgent, and carried a burning heat and an undeniable possessiveness.
It was no longer a superficial encounter, but a deep entanglement that seemed to suck out each other's souls.
Qi Shuo's teeth gently nibbled at his lower lip, causing a slight sting, but more so an electric, tingling shiver.
The air heated up rapidly, becoming thin and scalding. Tan Huaiyu's breathing became completely erratic; he was dizzy and weak from the kiss. He tried to respond, but could only let out muffled whimpers, which were then swallowed up even more forcefully by the other.
It felt like all the air in my lungs was being squeezed out, and my brain went blank from lack of oxygen, leaving only the intense sensation between my lips and tongue and the increasingly hot breath from the other person.
After an unknown amount of time, just when Tan Huaiyu felt he was about to suffocate, Qi Shuo suddenly stopped.
He stepped back slightly, his chest heaving violently, his heavy breathing hitting Tan Huaiyu's equally rapid chest.
His eyes were frighteningly dark, churning with turbulent emotions, yet forcibly suppressed by a thin layer of icy rationality. His voice was hoarse, broken and almost incoherent: "I...I'll go take a shower first."
After saying that, he propped himself up, seemingly wanting to leave this already out-of-control, dangerously soft and warm place.
However, an arm reached out from the side and wrapped tightly around his waist with an irresistible force.
Tan Huaiyu's hands trembled slightly, his fingertips turning white from the force, yet he gripped Qi Shuo's clothes tightly at the waist, preventing him from letting go. He didn't speak, but simply looked up at the pair of eyes above him, eyes that seemed to hold back a storm.
Qi Shuo's body stiffened, like a statue suddenly frozen in time. He closed his eyes briefly, and when he opened them again, fine cracks appeared in the icy depths of his eyes, his reason teetering on the brink of collapse. He almost gritted his teeth as he squeezed out a few words: "Tan Huaiyu, let go."
Every word seemed to have been soaked in ice water, yet it still carried a scorching heat.
Tan Huaiyu looked at him, at the intense struggle and longing in his eyes, at the throbbing veins on his forehead. Then, slowly, but with unusual determination, he shook his head.
This silent rejection was like the last straw that broke the camel's back, or the spark that ignited the fuse.
The last thread of reason in Qi Shuo's eyes snapped.
He stopped trying to leave, and instead leaned down, pressing Tan Huaiyu deeper into the sofa. One hand gripped the back of his head, and he kissed him fiercely again.
Tan Huaiyu was almost suffocated by the kiss, but her body involuntarily pressed closer, her arms tightly wrapped around Qi Shuo's neck. Her senses were amplified infinitely, bringing a strange sense of security and overwhelming dizziness.
Where skin touches skin, it feels like tiny, crackling electric currents are ignited, shooting through every part of the body.
In a daze, he felt Qi Shuo's kisses lingering on his ear, his hot breath burning his earlobe. A deep, hoarse voice, filled with a final struggle and confirmation, rang in his ear:
"……May I?"
Tan Huaiyu's mind was a complete blank, almost unable to think. Deep within his body surged a strange, anxious longing, and a primal fear of the unknown.
His arms tightened around Qi Shuo's neck, his fingers unconsciously digging into Qi Shuo's coarse short hair, the fingertips sinking into the roots, like a silent, clumsy invitation and urging.
This subtle response became the final spark that ignited a raging inferno.
Qi Shuo no longer hesitated, nor did he wait any longer.
The world was reorganized in an instant.
Tan Huaiyu took a deep breath, and his fingertips instantly dug into Qi Shuo's back, leaving a shallow crescent-shaped mark.
My vision blurred, and the ceiling light shattered into countless flickering spots of light.
Qi Shuo seemed to be frozen in that instant. He was breathing heavily, his forehead pressed against Tan Huaiyu's, sweat sliding down his forehead and dripping onto Tan Huaiyu's neck.
He lowered his head and kissed away the tears that had seeped from the corners of Tan Huaiyu's eyes. His voice was hoarse and carried an almost tender cruelty: "Tell me if it hurts."
The feelings that followed were like a shattered kaleidoscope, bizarre and wonderful, difficult to capture in precise words.
Consciousness fluctuates between lucidity and confusion.
I don't know how much time passed; perhaps it was just a moment, or perhaps a century.
As a blinding white light exploded in his mind, before the aftershocks of the wave had fully subsided, and before Tan Huaiyu could react or even recover from the extreme dizziness, an irresistible force struck—the world spun around him.
He was easily flipped over by Qi Shuo.
He went from lying on his back to lying face down.
"Qi...Shuo..." He uttered the two words in broken sentences, his voice muffled in the sofa, carrying a lingering sob and a hint of panic.
"Bear with it." Qi Shuo's lips brushed against his earlobe, his voice hoarse like the friction of sand, "It'll be done soon."
Tan Huaiyu's consciousness shattered once again. He was like a small boat in a storm that could fall apart at any moment, and could only entrust all his weight and trust to the person behind him.
After an unknown amount of time, just when Tan Huaiyu felt he was about to faint, Qi Shuo finally let out a low, suppressed groan, marking him completely from the inside out.
This time, it's truly over.
The world is quiet.
All that remained were the two of them breathing heavily, like broken bellows, and their hearts pounding so hard they seemed about to burst out of their chests, echoing heavily in the silent living room.
Tan Huaiyu's gaze slowly focused, and the first thing that came into view was Qi Shuo's face, which was close at hand, and his eyes, which were filled with a complex mix of emotions—satisfaction, pity, lingering fervor, and a hint of helplessness and lingering fear.
He opened his mouth as if to say something, but only managed to utter a faint sound.
Qi Shuo seemed to have finally come to his senses from that extreme, out-of-control state.
He lowered his head and kissed Tan Huaiyu's sweaty, trembling eyelids, then the tip of his nose, and finally his swollen lips. This kiss was no longer the predatory and urgent one from before, but a gentle, soothing, and apologetic lick.
"Does it hurt?" His voice was still hoarse, but much gentler, carrying an undisguised concern after the fact.
Tan Huaiyu looked at him, at those eyes so close, eyes filled with his own reflection.
He blinked, his long eyelashes brushing against Qi Shuo's chin, and then, very gently, shook his head.
It's not that it doesn't hurt.
However, compared to the feeling of being embraced by him like this, kissed so tenderly, and asked so carefully, that little bit of pain seemed insignificant.
He raised his still limp arm and gently wrapped it around Qi Shuo's sweaty neck, burying his face deeper into the other's neck.
The floor lamp in the living room still cast a warm yellow glow, quietly enveloping the two people embracing tightly on the sofa.
As night deepened outside the window, all was quiet except for their breaths and heartbeats, which spoke of the secret and passionate delivery and possession of life that had just occurred.
These are two lonely, wandering souls who, after a long period of testing, getting closer, hesitating, and struggling, finally crossed the final boundary and embraced each other completely without reservation.
Love, in its intertwining, quietly takes root, breaks through the soil, and grows wildly.
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