“So you wanted to bring me to see the snow.” Xiao Fen shook his head and sighed, puffs of white hot breath escaping his mouth. “You men have such hard-to-guess thoughts.”
He had nearly thought Fang Si Ting wanted to bring him here to count the lights.
The effect was comparable to counting sheep.
“Who can predict the weather? I was afraid you’d be disappointed,” Fang Si Ting said.
Xiao Fen stood on tiptoe and patted the top of his head. “Idiot.”
“Hitting people isn’t a good habit,” Fang Si Ting said sternly, educating him.
“Who said I was hitting you? I was just brushing the snow off your head.”
No sooner had the words left his mouth than a large hand roughly ruffled the top of his head, turning his smug face annoyed in an instant.
“My hair’s all messed up!”
“Where’s your hair?” Fang Si Ting reached over his shoulder with one hand, cupping the back of his head and half-forcing him to tilt his head up. He studied it with utmost seriousness.
“I only see a little brat with bedhead.”
“You’re the little brat, you defeated foe.”
Xiao Fen’s eyes widened, moist and warm inside. His red lips parted slightly as he huffed out white breath angrily.
Cold ice met warm water. The instant their gazes locked, they clung tightly together.
An invisible force drew their two heads closer.
When a snowflake landed on Xiao Fen’s upturned lips, Fang Si Ting’s lips pressed against them carefully, tentatively.
Xiao Fen did not refuse.
The cold snowflake melted instantly into cool water between their lips and tongues. Just as it was about to trickle from the corner of his mouth, the tip of a tongue swept it away.
Xiao Fen’s breathing grew rapid and uneasy. His fingers clutched the large pockets on both sides of his cotton jacket.
A tingling itch seeped between his fingers as ten thicker, rougher digits squeezed in, firmly clasping his hand.
His frozen, red, trembling knuckles immediately felt waves of warmth from the palm pressed against the back of his hand.
His fingers were pulled from his clothes and guided into the cotton jacket pocket, rubbed not too lightly, not too heavily.
This motion made it seem like Xiao Fen was hugging his waist. Their bodies drew even closer.
Fang Si Ting’s tongue moved with obvious clumsiness yet endless patience, soothing his tension bit by bit. Silently, it bared its fangs—the tip of a tooth nipping lightly at his lower lip.
The sudden pinch of pain and itch from those warm, wet lips made Xiao Fen instinctively open his mouth, his tongue darting out to lick the bitten spot.
In that moment, a foreign tongue invaded, prying open his teeth. It scraped flexibly over his gums, its rough surface licking across his upper palate.
“Mmph…”
Xiao Fen’s neck muscles tensed. He tilted his head back farther, as if to flee, but a warm, powerful palm appeared right then at the back of his head, holding him firmly in place without allowing the slightest retreat.
“Fang… mm Fang…”
“Mmm.”
Fang Si Ting wasn’t very skilled. He explored methodically, place by place, lingering whenever he sensed the other’s emotions flaring up.
Before long, he had it down.
He didn’t know how others kissed, but he understood Xiao Fen.
He knew which sensitive spots in his mouth would make him tremble all over when the tongue tip grazed them, leaving him helpless.
Xiao Fen’s body felt soft all over, feverish and hot. His head spun dizzily from severe oxygen deprivation. He couldn’t breathe properly, and his nostrils were filled with Fang Si Ting’s scent.
That aroma held some magical power, surging through his blood, making his bones ache and clamor.
A weightless sensation hit. His body lightened as he was swept up horizontally.
Fang Si Ting carefully placed him on the back seat and turned on the heater.
As he started to pull away, two legs wrapped around his knees, looping him in place and refusing to let go.
“Where are you going?” Xiao Fen sprawled limply on the deep purple seat, panting a little. His delicate nose tip was frozen bright red. He opened his hazy, misty eyes—the rims reddened by tears, bright yet aggrieved. His dissatisfied whine sounded on the verge of tears.
Fang Si Ting deflated instantly, averting his gaze. “Drive back.”
“To your place or mine?” He extended the invitation.
“To our own homes.” Fang Si Ting stated it like plain fact.
“Big idiot!”
Xiao Fen punched his shoulder in annoyance. How could anyone be so clueless?
“You already put me in the back seat. Don’t you have any ideas?”
“I nearly did—that’s exactly why I put you in the back seat.” Fang Si Ting’s expression was utterly righteous.
On the front passenger seat, he might not have been able to hold back while driving.
Snow-white fingertips tinged pink hooked firmly onto his tie beneath the cotton jacket, yanking him close with force.
Beneath the night sky, those sucked-swollen, glistening red lips curved provocatively. “If you don’t want to, get out. I’ll find someone else.”
Fang Si Ting’s eyes darkened. His jaw clenched tight, his entire presence turning sharp and ominous.
Xiao Fen kept taunting, courting death. “Other guys’ techniques are probably way better. They even say sweet things to coax me. Every time… mmph…”
He never got the rest out.
The seat flattened beneath him. The tall, burly body pinned him down. Fingers pinched his chin, forcing it up. His teeth parted against his will, his tongue tip going numb and rigid from suction. His entire mouth no longer felt like his own.
How had Fang Si Ting’s kissing gotten so good all of a sudden?
Just as heat built enough to make him sweat, a chill hit.
His black wool coat and inner sweater had vanished at some point. His wrists were seized, yanked overhead, and bound several times with the big red scarf, hooked onto the seat’s headrest.
Xiao Fen’s body sensed danger on instinct. He wanted to break free.
“Don’t loosen it.”
“…Okay.” His ears had always been weak to coaxing. A few kisses and a soft word from Fang Si Ting, and he yielded.
Even though he could have slipped the scarf easily.
He regretted agreeing so fast right away.
Scorching lips, carrying hot, moist breaths, layered kisses across his neck hollow and collarbones.
The wet, hot mouth latched onto the black mole at the end of his collarbone, over his shoulder, sucking with exquisite care—as if determined to swallow it whole.
Xiao Fen shuddered his shoulders. Then a mosquito-bite itch prickled his chest.
His leg muscles tensed instantly. He forced them to relax.
But it didn’t work.
Xiao Fen had no idea what to do. His throat bobbed as he let out an aggrieved whimper.
“Fang… Fang Fang…”
His swollen red lips received gentle soothing once more. His tension eased unknowingly, acceptance gradually settling in.
In his daze, he seemed to hear a “click.”
Another surge of danger loomed. His muddled mind hadn’t processed it before blanking out entirely.
Xiao Fen’s scalp prickled. His face paled, cold sweat beading on his forehead.
The hands on the headrest twisted, straining briefly. Remembering Fang Si Ting’s words, he let go of the effort, enduring it raw.
Next time, couldn’t he use something unbreakable? At least then he could struggle for real!
Bastard!
Fang Si Ting’s heart ached. He pecked the quivering lips, then rained fine kisses on the sweat-slick forehead. The hand at his waist lifted, clumsily stroking down the smooth, pale curve of his back to soothe.
Xiao Fen’s lashes were wet with reflexive tears, lids half-shut. A charming crimson slowly bloomed, fluttering lightly in the dim car interior.
He let out a soft hum, the upturned tone scratching at Fang Si Ting’s heart like tiny claws.
Rough, reckless kisses stormed in wildly.
Xiao Fen’s muffled moans shattered into fragments amid his ragged breaths, his voice turning soft and drawn-out.
A lamp’s shadow streaked past the front windshield.
Suddenly, his fingertips dug into the headrest leather. His entire back arched taut.
He bit his lower lip fiercely, sweat streaming from his forehead. He was tense beyond measure.
When awareness returned, it had been a false alarm.
The man on the seat jolted. Just as he moved to act, he was caught in the act.
The rough palm roamed chaotically, teasing his already quaking heart without mercy—hovering maddeningly, leaving his whole body aching unbearably.
Xiao Fen lifted his trembling lids, gazing at him with resentment.
Fang Si Ting smiled at him. His hand gripped an ankle, rubbing slowly as he bent to kiss the white, pink-tinged knee.
Love overflowed in his eyes, flooding into a disaster within.
“Wait a bit, okay?”
“No.”
Xiao Fen’s words came out sticky and mushy, impossibly soft—like pure coquetry.
“Okay.” Fang Si Ting nodded. The moment he relaxed, though, the motions turned fiercer, more devious. The other hand stayed clamped tight.
“Big bastard!” Xiao Fen’s free foot tried to kick, managing only chaotic rubs against the leather.
Couldn’t this man’s words hold even a shred of his usual reliability!
Time lost all meaning. Finally, the seat back adjusted upright somewhat.
Opening his eyes, Xiao Fen saw Fang Si Ting in his black vest and shirt, tie and cuffs still pristine on his upper body. Thighs spread wide, he knelt on the cushion—solid muscles straining the black shirt, sheened with thin sweat.
He gazed up at Xiao Fen.
He resembled the Holy Father, hands bound to the cross in suffering.
And he was the kneeling devotee, pious and fervent at his feet.
Xiao Fen’s arms, looped over the headrest, had long gone numb and senseless. As the seat rose, his limp legs offered no purchase. They slid down Fang Si Ting’s waist sides, landing him squarely astride.
“Mmph ahh…”
Xiao Fen cried out, heartbroken and raw. His eye corners burned red beyond saving, crystalline tears spilling one after another—licked away mid-trail by a tongue.
“Fang Si Ting…”
“Mmm?”
“Mr. Black Cat…”
“Mmm.”
“Ugh ahh… Fang Fang…”
“Mmm, almost done.”
