Chapter 35
Lu Xuefeng had barely touched him when he wanted to pull away, his slender fingers curling slightly.
Song Muqing, sensing his hesitation, held his hand firmly, not letting him escape.
Their hands intertwined, their palms pressing together.
Lu Xuefeng’s face burned, as warm as his hand in Song Muqing’s grasp.
Song Muqing waited, seeing Lu Xuefeng’s slight nervousness.
He met his gaze. “Weren’t you going to touch me?”
Lu Xuefeng hadn’t explicitly said so.
Song Muqing had suggested it, and he had simply followed through, a natural progression.
But now that he had started, he couldn’t stop. He couldn’t just leave him hanging.
“Do you have your answer now?”
Song Muqing asked, holding his hand.
In the dim light, a glance downwards revealed what they were doing.
Lu Xuefeng closed his eyes, feeling the heat rising to his face.
“…Yes.”
Song Muqing’s voice was low and husky. “Help me.”
They pressed closer together.
Lu Xuefeng’s breathing became unsteady, a sense of shyness washing over him.
He wasn’t experienced and could only vaguely recall what Song Muqing had done before, his movements clumsy and hesitant.
But Song Muqing didn’t need any special techniques.
Just this person, before him, was enough.
Gradually, Lu Xuefeng’s breathing became heavier, less controlled.
His ears burned, Song Muqing’s hot breath against his skin.
Lu Xuefeng paused, wanting to look into his eyes, to see his expression.
But stopping now would be unbearable.
Song Muqing’s breath hitched, his arms tightening around him, his lips finding Lu Xuefeng’s ear, nibbling gently, then kissing him softly.
“Xuefeng…”
He whispered, “Don’t torture me.”
His voice was hoarse with desire.
He took Lu Xuefeng’s wrist, guiding his hand.
The touch was intense and direct, the warm, damp sensation against his skin, the soft kisses, overwhelming his senses.
The faint scent of the air freshener was now mingled with the musky scent of arousal.
Lu Xuefeng didn’t know who was more affected.
His wrist ached, and he couldn’t help but moan softly, “Muqing…”
He felt Song Muqing’s body tense, his hand trembling slightly.
Before he could fully register the sensation, Song Muqing tilted his chin up and kissed him deeply.
Lu Xuefeng couldn’t respond, his breathing ragged.
“Say my name again,” Song Muqing pleaded against his lips.
Lu Xuefeng’s eyelashes fluttered. “Muqing.”
“Yes.”
Song Muqing exhaled, kissing him again.
He loved hearing Lu Xuefeng say his name.
Their clothes were now stained.
Song Muqing wiped Lu Xuefeng’s hand, then led him to the bathroom, rinsing it under the water.
It still felt damp.
He carefully dried each of Lu Xuefeng’s fingers.
Lu Xuefeng, still slightly flustered, looked at Song Muqing in the mirror, his gaze lowered, his expression calm and patient as always.
“You lied to me,” Lu Xuefeng said suddenly, his voice steady.
Song Muqing paused, looking up. “Lied about what?”
“You said you didn’t feel anything.”
Lu Xuefeng, recalling the sensation in his hand, felt his face warm again.
He clearly felt something, quite intensely.
He wasn’t asexual at all.
Song Muqing finished drying his hands, recalling their earlier conversation, and couldn’t help but smile.
“What are you smiling about?”
Song Muqing tossed the used tissues in the trash, explaining, “You asked about my reaction to the intimate scene in the film. I truly didn’t feel anything.”
“Then…”
Lu Xuefeng was stunned.
Song Muqing leaned against the counter, his arm around Lu Xuefeng’s waist, pulling him closer, the desire in his eyes unconcealed, reflected in the mirror.
“But I feel something for you,” he said.
Lu Xuefeng met his intense gaze.
The implication was clear, unspoken but understood.
But Lu Xuefeng felt it wasn’t enough.
Or rather, he wanted more than just physical desire.
So, he asked, “Just… that?”
“Not just that,” Song Muqing replied honestly.
Desire, attraction, longing, and affection.
He had feelings for him.
He had been hiding them.
Lu Xuefeng’s heart pounded. “Since when?”
“A long time ago.”
As he spoke, Song Muqing touched his hand.
Lu Xuefeng considered this, asking slowly, “Can I take this as a confession?”
Song Muqing caressed his eyelids with his knuckles. “Not yet.”
Lu Xuefeng blinked, confused, a slight pang of disappointment in his chest.
Song Muqing straightened up, taking Lu Xuefeng’s hand and placing it over his heart.
He was wearing a thin shirt, and through the fabric, Lu Xuefeng could feel the rapid beat of his heart, a warm, muffled thump against his palm.
He looked into Lu Xuefeng’s eyes, his expression sincere. “This is my confession.”
Lu Xuefeng’s breath slowed as he focused on the sensation.
The strong, steady beat of Song Muqing’s heart was clear.
Each beat a silent declaration.
“Xuefeng, I’m falling for you,” Song Muqing said, each word deliberate and heartfelt.
Lu Xuefeng, unable to bear the intensity of his gaze, blinked, his voice soft. “I can feel it.”
He didn’t want to break the spell.
He was slightly embarrassed, and Song Muqing noticed.
Perhaps if he continued to look at him, Lu Xuefeng would look away.
But Lu Xuefeng didn’t.
A sweetness bloomed in his chest, wrapping around his heart.
He didn’t want to look away, asking softly, “Do you know how I feel?”
Song Muqing still held his hand.
“I think I do,” he replied, his tone knowing, unconsciously caressing Lu Xuefeng’s ring.
Lu Xuefeng had worn it every day since their wedding, rarely taking it off.
From the gradual change in how he addressed him.
From the increasing emotion in his eyes.
From his unguarded smiles.
So many moments.
Song Muqing had noticed them all.
He knew.
Lu Xuefeng thought, with his high emotional intelligence and attentiveness, how could he not have noticed?
He smiled, suddenly saying, “Professor Song.”
“…Yes?”
Lu Xuefeng admitted, “You’re really good at this.”
His tone was slightly exasperated, but there was affection in his voice.
To Song Muqing, it was a compliment.
He smiled.
They looked at each other, the unspoken understanding between them clear.
A silent acknowledgment of their feelings.
Song Muqing pulled Lu Xuefeng into a hug, kissing his forehead tenderly.
He was incredibly endearing.
It was inevitable that he would fall for him.
After their intimate moment, they remembered their stained clothes and needed to change.
The bathroom didn’t have a bathtub.
Lu Xuefeng was slightly disappointed; a bath would have been relaxing.
They showered and changed into clean clothes.
Song Muqing went to wash the stain off his coat.
Lu Xuefeng watched him quietly, recalling the warm, damp sensation, and couldn’t help but comment, “That’s a lot.”
He leaned closer to Song Muqing, raising an eyebrow. “You have incredible self-control, Song Muqing.”
It seemed like pent-up desire.
Song Muqing, about to hang up his coat, glanced at him, sensing a playful provocation.
The fresh scent of shower gel lingered on his skin.
His hair was still damp, only towel-dried, a casual mess.
He looked handsome and relaxed, unlike his usual aloof demeanor.
His eyes were bright and slightly damp, beautiful.
Song Muqing’s Adam’s apple bobbed. “Xuefeng, don’t tease me.”
“I’m not,” Lu Xuefeng replied. “I’m complimenting you.”
Song Muqing didn’t quite interpret it as a compliment.
He lowered his voice. “Then I won’t hold back. Want to do it again?”
He stepped closer, his knee pressing against Lu Xuefeng’s thigh.
The position was intimate, their bodies close, their breaths mingling.
“I wouldn’t mind trying again, or…” Song Muqing said slowly, “something more intimate.”
“…No,” Lu Xuefeng replied, his expression unchanged, his heart pounding. “I need to rest.”
But Song Muqing wasn’t letting him off the hook so easily, his glasses glinting in the light.
“Did you think I didn’t notice?” he raised an eyebrow, a knowing look in his eyes. “Your underwear is also a bit damp.”
He had washed their clothes; he knew.
Lu Xuefeng was caught off guard, his face flushing instantly.
Song Muqing had anticipated his reaction, a soft chuckle escaping his lips. He decided not to tease him any further, walking past him to hang up his coat.
Lu Xuefeng touched his face, realizing something, his ears burning.
How could he have noticed that?
Pervert!
