Boom!
Ming Ying felt a string snap in his brain.
He almost forgot how to speak. “Hold on, I’m a little hungry—no, I mean a little—I’ll change and come down right now!”
Silas asked, “What are you wearing right now?”
Ming Ying looked down. “Pajamas…”
“Just come down as you are.”
“…”
So Comrade Ming Ying, wearing pajamas printed with a cartoon T-Rex pattern, came rushing downstairs, huffing and puffing. But he slowed down when he saw the familiar black car parked on the dim street.
His heart was pounding out of his chest. It was so pathetic.
Ming Ying thought to himself, I can’t just rush over like this. I need to play it a little cool.
So he pretended to saunter over casually, hands in his pockets.
As he got closer, Ming Ying saw a hand with distinct knuckles resting outside the car window, a cigarette held between its fingertips, a wisp of gray smoke hanging in the air. It looked kind of sexy.
Ming Ying hesitated. Standing in front of the car, he suddenly had no idea what to say.
Damn it. It’s only been half a day. Why does it feel like we’re newlyweds reuniting after a long separation?
Just then, with a click, the person inside the car got out first.
Ming Ying stopped in his tracks.
Silas wasn’t wearing a jacket, just a white shirt and a necktie. Under the dim streetlight, his expression was unreadable, only his hair glinting with a golden sheen. He looked like an ascetic, well-dressed scoundrel.
Ming Ying stayed rooted to the spot.
Silas stood by the car door and raised a hand toward him. “Come here.”
Ming Ying snapped back to his senses and coughed, maintaining his posture as he walked over. Then he said, “What a coincidence.”
“…”
Damn it, what am I even saying?
Silas paid no mind to the “coincidence.” He just glanced at Ming Ying and frowned. “Ming, why are you holding onto your waistband like that?”
Huh?
Ming Ying looked down. Ah crap, these pajama pants don’t have pockets!
He looked up and met the man’s seemingly serious expression. Mentally twitching his lips, he said, “I’m afraid you’re going to pull my pants down.”
Silas raised a brow at that and smirked. “Pull down a T-Rex’s pants? I wouldn’t dare.”
“…”
I just knew he was going to make fun of my pajamas!
Ming Ying wasn’t backing down. “My grandma bought me these pajamas. I brought them all the way across the ocean. You’re not allowed to laugh.”
Silas said, “Got it. The first T-Rex to cross the ocean.”
“…”
Damn it.
Silas reached out and patted Ming Ying’s head. “Get in.”
…
The inside of the car was cramped, the air stagnant.
Silas said, “Ming, your seatbelt.”
Ming Ying froze and turned to look at him. “We’re going somewhere?”
He paused, suddenly realizing what he’d said. “No, I mean,” he stammered, “Are we going to your place?”
Silas replied, “No. First, the convenience store.”
“…”
“In… in the car?”
Silas turned his head to look at him, frowning. “Ming, aren’t you hungry?”
I—
A perfectly innocent sentence was made to sound like a double entendre.
Ming Ying mentally and thoroughly greeted every member of Mr. A’s family.
Silas drove to the nearest 24-hour convenience store. The silence on the road was almost painful.
So Ming Ying asked him, “Boss, what were you busy with this afternoon? Was it at that laboratory?”
“Yes.”
“Oh.”
Silas said, “I didn’t take my phone in with me. I didn’t see your messages.”
Ming Ying just said, “Oh.”
They arrived at the convenience store.
Ming Ying stayed seated in the car. Silas unbuckled his seatbelt and glanced at him. “Not coming in?”
Ming Ying looked at him. “But I’m wearing my pajamas.”
“What does that matter?”
“It’s just…”
Two men going into a convenience store in the middle of the night to buy unspeakable items—wasn’t this scene just a bit too weird?
Ming Ying had no idea why his skin turned so thin at times like this. He stubbornly said, “Just you go.”
Silas stood by the car door, a hint of helplessness in his voice. “Ming, I don’t know what flavor you like.”
I—
Ming Ying was completely done with him.
“Whatever you pick is fine!”
“Ming, there’s no ‘whatever’ here.”
“…”
In the end, Ming Ying was forced to get out of the car.
The moment they went inside, Ming Ying stuck right behind Silas, slightly hunched over, clutching the back of Silas’s shirt like a thief with a guilty conscience.
“Ming.”
“What?”
“Stand up straight.”
“Why?”
“If you stay like that, people will think I’m a pedophile.”
“…”
The logic was admittedly sound. After all, cartoon T-Rex pajamas were indeed a bit too cartoonish.
Ming Ying coughed.
To prevent Board Member from getting reported and arrested, Ming Ying decided to sacrifice a little for the greater good.
He stood up straight, let go of Silas’s shirt, and wandered over to the snack aisle.
When Silas finished grabbing the item and headed to the checkout counter, he turned his head and found Ming Ying gone.
He frowned, went looking for him, and found a T-Rex sprawled in front of the freezer, picking out ice cream.
Silas walked over and asked, “Eating this at night?”
Ming Ying rubbed his hands together. “I’m a little thirsty.”
“If you’re thirsty, drink water. There’s some in the car.”
“I want ice cream.”
Silas rubbed the back of Ming Ying’s neck and said, “Ming, eating this at night is bad for your stomach.”
Ming Ying’s stomach wasn’t great, a common problem for people like them. They thought they were invincible when they were young, skipping meals or binge eating when they did eat. It was a miracle if their stomachs weren’t bad.
Comrade Ming Ying had a different take on this. “It’s even worse to eat it when I’m old.”
Silas listened, his expression unchanging. “Alright. Then take a few extra.”
Ming Ying asked, “Do you want some too?”
Silas said, “I’ll use it later.”
…
Use it later.
So the question was: under what circumstances was ice cream not for eating, but for using?
Ming Ying looked up, and Silas looked down at him.
Their eyes met, and for some reason, Ming Ying perceived something terrifying from the man’s incredibly calm gaze.
He quickly waved his hands. “I’m not eating it anymore! Let’s go, let’s go.”
Silas smirked.
Ming Ying dragged Silas over to check out. His eyes landed on the basket in the man’s hand, which was filled with a colorful array of boxes.
Ming Ying blushed a little. His way of hiding it was to cough.
Ming Ying: “Cough, cough, cough.”
Silas: “What are you coughing for?”
Ming Ying: “Just felt like coughing.”
Silas: “Not satisfied?”
Ming Ying was shocked. He looked up. “What do you mean, not satisfied?”
Silas handed him the basket. “If you’re not satisfied, go pick them out yourself.”
Ming Ying looked down at the basket full of colorful boxes. He gritted his teeth and lowered his voice. “I’m very satisfied, extremely satisfied, super satisfied, okay?!”
Silas chuckled. “Alright, I know. No need to repeat yourself.”
“…”
At the checkout, the cashier’s gaze darted between the T-Rex Boy and the man in the suit. She said, “That’ll be sixty dollars total.”
…
Silas paid. Ming Ying stood to the side, feeling his own face and looking rather awkward.
Then he looked at the old man beside him, who was completely composed, even reading the instructions on a condom box.
Damn it. He felt like calling this guy a rogue was being too kind. He was clearly a damn degenerate.
…
After getting back into the car, they drove for a while longer.
The black car glided slowly through the black night, finally stopping at a place with dim lighting.
Ming Ying asked, “Where are we?”
Silas unbuckled his seatbelt. “The United States.”
“…”
No sht, Sherlock, Ming Ying thought.
He coughed. “Aren’t we going back?”
Silas turned his face to look at him. “Back where?”
“Back… back to your place.”
“No rush.” Silas pulled the bag from the back seat into the front.
Ming Ying saw this, his eyes widening. Then he facepalmed.
Inside the bag were the things they’d just bought at the convenience store.
Ming Ying tugged at his seatbelt and said, “Boss, I think it’s a bit cold in the car.”
Silas looked up. “Ming, are you hinting that I should hold you to keep you warm?”
“…”
Mother of god, where did he get that idea!
Ming Ying exclaimed, “You’re slandering me!”
Silas laughed. “Come here.”
He patted his own thigh.
So Ming Ying obligingly went and sat himself down on Silas’s thigh.
Seeing Ming Ying so cooperative, Silas touched his face and asked, “What happened today? Something upset you?”
“What?” Ming Ying was startled. “No.”
“Then why did you leave this afternoon?”
“Uh. Well, it’s just…” Ming Ying didn’t want to say he’d waited around for ages but hadn’t heard from him.
“It’s just that I went with Luck to the—”
He accidentally mentioned Luck. Ming Ying quickly stopped himself, glanced at Silas, and said, “You’re not mad, right?”
Silas said, “No.”
“…That’s good.”
Ming Ying then asked, “Are you really not mad?”
Silas smiled. “So, do you want me to be mad or not?”
“Uh, I don’t really know myself.” Ming Ying answered honestly. “I feel like if you’re not mad, I… but if you are mad, I’m also scared…”
Silas stroked Ming Ying’s face and said, “Ming, I trust you have the ability to handle this kind of relationship.”
The age gap was what it was; Silas was certainly not going to get jealous over a student.
But Silas had to admit, after the kid went back on his own, he’d still sat in the car waiting for half an hour. That feeling had been somewhat indescribably laughable.
…
So they just looked at each other like that. Looking and looking, Ming Ying suddenly reached out, grabbed Silas’s collar, and tentatively kissed him.
Silas then gripped the back of Ming Ying’s neck, forcing the young man to tilt his head back and take a deep kiss.
Their tongues intertwined, saliva mixing, breaking into threads that trickled from the corners of their mouths.
Ming Ying was kissed until his consciousness went hazy. Suddenly, he felt a blast of cool air.
Damn it. This old pervert’s technique was fing skilled again!
…
Ming Ying leaned against Silas’s shoulder, frowning. He turned his head and bit down on Silas’s neck.
He tasted a little blood on his lips.
Ming Ying’s consciousness instantly sharpened.
At the same moment, Silas also stopped.
They stared at each other in the dark car.
Ming Ying was dazed. “Uh. What?” He clenched around him out of nervousness.
Silas frowned, then suddenly raised a hand and yanked off his own necktie.
The sight of this action terrified Ming Ying, who instinctively tried to lean back and escape. But the steering wheel was right behind him. Where could he go?
“Don’t, don’t…”
Silas pulled the man over. “Ming, you need a little lesson.”
“What did I do?” Ming Ying was about to lose it. “All I did was bite you! Don’t touch my hands—”
…
The leather seat creaked, and the car body shimmied up and down. If anyone were to pass by right now…
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