FQ chapter 65

It had been too long. The kiss dragged on endlessly. When they finally broke apart, Fan Qing still chased after him—kissing his forehead, his eyelids, the tip of his nose—before burying his face against Luan Ye’s neck and inhaling deeply.

Luan Ye’s lashes trembled. He let out a low laugh.

“Bet I reek. Haven’t showered since the flight.”

“You don’t.” Fan Qing said.

Luan Ye carried no scent at all—not even sweat. Only his warmth, comforting and grounding… yet making Fan Qing’s body stir uncontrollably.

Pressed so close, every physical reaction was impossible to hide. Luan Ye opened his eyes, gaze full of mischief.

“So? Need a hand?”

Fan Qing instantly thought of their time in Xuehu Village and, embarrassed, let go.

“…No. Go shower first.”

“Really no?” Luan Ye glanced down. Fan Qing jumped back.

“Go, wash up. Rest—you must be exhausted. Hungry? Want food?”

“Not really,” Luan Ye chuckled for a long while before answering. “Just order some takeout. We’ll eat properly later.”

While Luan Ye showered, Fan Qing sat on the sofa, forcing himself to calm down. He pulled up the delivery app, guessed at his tastes, and ordered dumplings.

Just as the food arrived downstairs, the bathroom door opened.

There was a bathrobe, but Luan Ye hadn’t bothered—only wearing the underwear Fan Qing had brought him, bare skin exposed. His hair was half-dried, falling over his shoulders.

Fan Qing blanked out, forgetting what he meant to say. After a few seconds, he remembered.

“I’ll go grab the food.”

“Okay.” Luan Ye gave him a look.

The dumplings couldn’t be brought upstairs, so Fan Qing fetched them from the front desk. By the time he returned, the room was quiet—Luan Ye fast asleep.

Fan Qing froze, set the food down, and walked over quietly.

Only a hallway lamp was on, its dim light fading before it reached the bed. Luan Ye’s eyes were closed, his breathing deep.

He was too tired. Between jet lag and restless nights, he hadn’t slept properly in ages.

Fan Qing didn’t wake him. He showered quickly, then slid into bed, pulling Luan Ye close.

Their skin pressed together, warm and soft. Luan Ye stirred briefly, opened his eyes to see Fan Qing, then shut them again after a few seconds. His hand found Fan Qing’s waist, pulling closer.

“Damn. Thought I was dreaming.”

The words were muffled with sleep, so soft Fan Qing almost didn’t catch them.

A few seconds later came another murmur: “Missed you to death.”

Fan Qing tightened his hold.

He hadn’t planned to sleep, but holding Luan Ye, he drifted off deeply. He only stirred awake when he felt movement in his arms.

The curtains kept the room dim, and for a moment he couldn’t tell day from night. Beside him, Luan Ye shifted. Fan Qing turned to him.

“Awake?” he whispered.

Eyes still closed, Luan Ye didn’t answer, but his hand on Fan Qing’s waist stroked lightly, tracing his skin.

A shiver of heat shot through Fan Qing. He kissed Luan Ye’s lips, once, twice, three times.

The third kiss made Luan Ye stifle a laugh. He opened his mouth, tongue brushing against Fan Qing’s lips.

That was all it took—Fan Qing flipped him onto his back, kissing deeply, his hand moving down, tugging clothes aside.

“Hey.” Luan Ye finally opened his eyes, laughing. “Go easy. That’s yours, you know.”

Fan Qing still found time to reply, “I brought two pairs.”

By the hotel bed there was lube and a box of condoms. He grabbed the lube, tearing it open, squeezing half the bottle onto his palm before reaching down again.

Luan Ye stopped laughing. His hand gripped tight around Fan Qing’s waist as the first low moan slipped out.

…

When they finally caught their breath, Luan Ye rasped, “What time is it?”

Fan Qing reached for his phone. “Seven.”

They’d only slept three hours, and spent the rest tangled up. Setting the phone aside, he pulled Luan Ye close again.

“Tired?”

“What do you think?” Luan Ye’s voice was still rough. “Wore me out.”

“…Couldn’t hold back.” Fan Qing laughed, kissing his nose. “Want to nap more?”

“Then I won’t sleep at night.” Luan Ye opened his eyes, looked at him.

“Shower, then food. Starving.”

“The dumplings must be cold.”

“Keep them for midnight snack. Let’s go out now.” Luan Ye didn’t move, though. “You shower first. I’ll rest a bit.”

Fan Qing kissed him before getting up. The lube, half-empty, lay on the bed. He picked it up and set it back on the nightstand.

“You only saw the lube? Didn’t see the condoms?” Luan Ye followed his movement with a glance, half amused, half annoyed. “You finished everything inside.”

Fan Qing said nothing, tidying his things and heading to the bathroom. Just before he shut the door, he turned his head, voice calm and unhurried.

“I saw them.”

Then he shut the door and locked it in one smooth motion.

Luan Ye blinked, stunned for a good few seconds—then burst out laughing in exasperation.