“Want to go in and watch it mate?” The staff had been polite, but Yu Jin wasn’t one for euphemisms. Seeing how concerned Yun Qi looked, he tossed out an awkward suggestion.
Yun Qi shot him a glance, irritation flaring. “Aren’t you worried at all?”
“Worried?” Yu Jin leaned on the railing and surveyed the circle of little females. “If I were a cat, this would be the best time of my life.”
For a cat in the throes of spring fever, mating was pure bliss—especially with so many willing partners around. He truly had no cause for concern.
But the undertone of Yu Jin’s words left Yun Qi feeling strangely self-conscious. He scratched at the ends of his hair and changed the subject. “Should we head back now?”
Yu Jin shrugged. “Let’s wait and see. Two or three hours. If it’s not done, we pull the plug.”
Yun Qi blinked. “You mean let it just…?”
He hesitated over his words. “Once?”
Talking about this with Yu Jin was mortifying, but what else could they discuss while stuck in the Cat Shelter?
Yu Jin turned the question back on him. “How many times do you want it to go?”
Yun Qi’s voice wavered. “At least leave it here for a full day. They said being in heat… takes time to work out.”
Amusement flickered in Yu Jin’s eyes. “What about two days?”
“Sure.” Yun Qi answered before second-guessing himself. He backpedaled. “I mean, I don’t know… I’m not a cat. It’ll be ready when it’s ready.”
He ducked his head, twisting his hands together behind his back.
The Cat Shelter’s lights glowed in a warm yellow hue, casting a cozy radiance. The backdrop walls were a soft pink, lending the air a hazy, intimate ambiguity.
Framed by that warm halo, Yun Qi’s skin took on a gentler tone. Under harsh white fluorescents, his pale complexion always carried a hint of aloof detachment, but here the light softened him, making him seem approachable and endearing. His face was small and flawless, smooth as porcelain, with a touch of moisture at the corners of his eyes that gave him a dazed, alluring look. His lips were a deep crimson, like a ripe strawberry atop cream—tempting to taste, to kiss.
“Don’t bite your lip.” Yu Jin’s voice came low and firm, laced with gentle authority as he addressed the man before him.
Yun Qi looked up in confusion. “Huh?”
Yu Jin reached out, his fingers brushing that one errant lock of hair that always curled upward. Yun Qi’s heart skipped a beat. The tenderness in Yu Jin’s gaze was like sun-warmed spring water on a summer day, flowing warmly through his chest.
That commanding edge in his tone no longer felt distant. It echoed the way Yu Jin had once told him, “Cut back on the sweets”—concern wrapped in quiet firmness.
“Your hair got all messed up from sleeping.” Yu Jin said.
The comment jumped topics with no logical bridge, but Yun Qi kept pace, flashing him an awkward smile. “I wetted it down this morning, but it’s still sticking up.”
Since they’d agreed to wait, the two of them settled into the seats provided in the Cat Shelter Hall.
Yun Qi kept pressing down on his hair, wrestling with the stubborn strand that refused to stay flat. His palm covered the top of his head, the pose both comical and oddly endearing. After a moment, he checked again—it sprang right back up—so he pressed harder, clutching his skull like he was dodging a swat.
Yu Jin let out a soft chuckle.
Quiet as it was, the hall stood mostly empty save for Yun Qi and the distant staff, so he caught it crystal clear. He looked up. Yu Jin sat sideways across from him, a glass table between them. His legs were crossed, but the long table forced him into that angled posture, one arm draped over the glass surface. His ring clinked crisply against it with each subtle movement.
Spotting the ring, Yun Qi dropped his hand from his hair. He studied Yu Jin carefully, gaze tracing from the subtle bob of his Adam’s apple to the sharp, defined contours of his face. That profile was even more striking, his features gaining dimension from the side.
They said a truly elite face had to be flawless from every angle—no weak spots. Most people’s profiles fell flat: cheekbones too prominent or noses too recessed, ruining the view. Plenty struggled with it—stunning from the front but bland sideways, or sculpted in profile but meh head-on. Yu Jin dodged that trap entirely. Front and side alike were perfection, his bone structure and features crafting an outstanding visage.
Yun Qi recalled hearing about mixed heritage in his family, though the details escaped him. “Someone in your family mixed-race?”
Yu Jin glanced back. “My grandma.”
Yun Qi nodded. “Chinese-Russian?”
“My grandfather was Italian,” Yu Jin said.
Yun Qi remembered now—some offhand chat from ages ago, details fuzzy with time. He’d heard Chinese-Russian kids turned out cute; Yu Jin proved the Chinese-Italian combo held its own.
Sensing the oddity in the question, Yu Jin asked, “What’s on your mind?”
Yun Qi shook his head. “Nothing.”
He’d always known Yu Jin was handsome—memorable from their first encounter. Dropping a line like “I’ve realized you look even better now” would probably kill the vibe.
“I overheard you and the manager talking about streaming yesterday,” Yun Qi said. “Sounded like it involved me?”
He’d caught snippets, not the whole picture—yesterday’s Tata drama had pushed it from his mind.
Yu Jin tapped the tabletop. “Lao Xun wants you to go live. Says you did it back in your old team.”
Yun Qi nodded. “Yeah, I can. I’ll play along if it’s required.”
“I didn’t agree.”
“Why not?”
“You think you should be showing your face to the public right now?” Yu Jin asked.
Yun Qi hesitated.
His online rep was shaky. Sure, plenty backed him, but airing Lang Xian’s dirt carried the whiff of betraying his old team and throwing teammates under the bus. Netizens pitied him even as they called him out; Lang Xian’s fans were a whole other level, probably itching to dox his address and send hate mail.
Once Yu Jin saw understanding dawn, he continued measuredly. “You’ve got fans—streaming could work fine. But not yet. Wait until you’re competing officially, showing up as a KRO member with real results under your belt. That’s prime time. Right now, the internet’s a cesspool. Your face would just reignite the dying flames of drama. You can weigh the risks yourself.”
Yun Qi admitted he’d been too simplistic; Yu Jin had thought it through far better. “Then we’ll hold off.”
He was knee-deep in the muck now—future results would decide if he climbed out. Not everyone knew about the transfer, and rubbernecking netizens wouldn’t bother digging. Getting painted as an SK guy trash-talking his squad for clicks would be a disaster.
“You mentioned Lang Xian harassing you before?” Yu Jin asked.
Yun Qi tensed up. He hated revisiting this. “…Yeah.”
“So that night at Esports Night—wasn’t just flirting around?” Yu Jin knew interrupting had been rude, but he couldn’t stop himself. No regrets.
From the tone, Yun Qi grasped just how deep the misunderstanding ran. “You thought it was real this whole time?”
Yu Jin didn’t dodge. “Until you told me straight-up it was marketing.”
That long, huh.
Yun Qi gave a wry smile. “Guess our marketing nailed it. If you bought it, no wonder everyone else is hooked.”
Whether that was a win or a loss, who could say.
A moment later, Yun Qi spoke again. “So… when you found out, what did you think about it?”
What was he getting at with that question? He just genuinely wanted to know what attitude Yu Jin held toward his new romance. From that, he could gauge the chances of them getting back together someday—and decide whether he should keep holding on.
“Your taste in men sucks,” Yu Jin said, staring at Yun Qi’s hair. “Maybe dating me didn’t feel that great for you, but I took one look at Lang Xian and knew he was no good.”
He certainly didn’t mince words.
Hearing him bring up the past made Yun Qi correct him. “You’re wrong. Dating you… felt really good.”
He kept his eyes lowered, avoiding Yu Jin’s gaze, as if talking to himself. “At least I’ve never forgotten it.”
He’d never forgotten how dating Yu Jin felt. He’d never forgotten Yu Jin.
But he couldn’t bring himself to say any of it aloud. He lacked the nerve, the courage. No matter how nicely he might phrase it now, he was still the one who’d proposed the breakup.
And he’d done it decisively, without leaving any room for negotiation.
Now, it left him deflated, unable to even hold his head high.
Maybe that was the punishment for someone who’d acted so recklessly.
Yu Jin watched him, unsure why. There were plenty of things he wanted to ask, yet suddenly, he didn’t want to ask any of them.
It was as if Yun Qi’s mood held all the answers.
A few hours later, a staff member came out and asked if they wanted to take the cat home.
The implication was clear: their cat had finished mating.
Yu Jin had them bring the cat out.
Yun Qi asked, “Taking it home now?”
Yu Jin was firm. “Once is enough. We can’t let it run wild.”
Yun Qi had no choice but to accept it.
The staff member brought the cat out, and Yu Jin grabbed it by the scruff of the neck, hoisting it up like a chick. Yun Qi’s heart ached at the sight. He quickly snatched Tata from Yu Jin’s grasp and cradled it protectively in his arms, a hint of resentment in his voice. “Don’t handle it like that.”
Yu Jin tossed the cat to him. Seeing Yun Qi treat it with such tenderness inexplicably irritated him, but in the end, he turned away without a word.
Back in the car, Tata had stopped yowling. Yun Qi felt a bit awkward knowing what Tata had been up to—especially sharing the confined space with Yu Jin. Their breaths mingled in the air, charged with an odd tension like the smell of gunpowder. Yun Qi glanced at Yu Jin and said, “At least it’s happy now.”
Yu Jin let out a curse. “Fucking stamina on that thing.”
They’d had to wait hours for it.
Hearing the resentment in his tone, Yun Qi defended Tata. “Tata… takes a long time. It’s not like this every day.”
“Still, it had a damn good time.”
Yun Qi’s ears turned pink. “Next time… I’ll just bring it myself.”
“Why should you?”
Yun Qi eyed Yu Jin, who seemed to be picking a fight over nothing. “What do you want, then?”
Yu Jin gripped the steering wheel. They hit a red light up ahead, and he pulled to a stop. Casually, as if dooming Tata to oblivion, he said, “Neuter it.”
Yun Qi opened his mouth to argue but didn’t know what to say. In the end, he just lowered his head and bit his lip in frustration.
Seeing how displeased Yun Qi looked actually improved Yu Jin’s mood a little.
But then he glanced at the cat on Yun Qi’s lap, and his irritation flared up again.
Tata was hooked on Yun Qi’s pants, sprawled across his thighs, its paws rubbing against his leg.
Yu Jin tightened his grip on the wheel, his gaze darkening.
Why the hell not?
Why should a damn animal get to be freer than its owner?
