He stood with both legs straight, looking down at them in disbelief. Not only had he walked ten more steps than yesterday, but more importantly, he hadn’t felt the usual soreness and swelling in his legs or that itching deep in his bones after rehabilitation. Qin Kun came over, crouched down, and lifted his pant leg. He pressed his fingertips slowly up from his calf to his knee.
“Does it hurt?” Qin Kun asked.
Su Siwen shook his head, his eyes glistening with tears. He had almost forgotten how long it had been since he’d last walked like a healthy, normal person. No pain from his leg condition, and a normal gait.
“Kun Kun, am I almost better?” Su Siwen asked softly.
Qin Kun stood up and pulled him into a hug, his hand stroking Su Siwen’s thin back.
“Yeah. After the last surgery, you’ll definitely recover.”
The results of the pre-bed training were unexpectedly good, and both of them were in high spirits.
“Youyou is truly our lucky star,” Qin Kun said, leaning against the headboard with his arm draped over Su Siwen’s shoulder.
Both he and Siwen had lost their parents at an age when they could understand loss. They had emerged from their grief and continued living, carrying their parents’ hopes. In kindergarten, Su Siwen had been the child with the most little red flowers. He stood at the front leading the morning exercises. From childhood to adulthood, he was always first in his class.
He was stubborn to the core. Once, a relative had offered to adopt him, promising to treat him like a son, only asking that he change his name. Su Siwen, still wearing mourning clothes, had finished handling his parents’ affairs with the help of Grandma Yang’s family. During the damp, cold rainy season, the frail young man stood under the eaves, his hair soaked by the rain.
“Impossible. I will only ever be the son of Su Changcheng and Mo Qionglian.”
The young man’s voice was cold and absolute, cutting through the dense rain. His back was ramrod straight. The relative scoffed, saying he wanted to see how far a kid with no parents could go. Su Siwen studied even harder than before, desperately proving to everyone that even without his parents, he could do just fine.
When Qin Kun first met him, he said his bones were too hard, asking why he had to live so strenuously when being adopted and cared for wasn’t such a bad thing. Su Siwen looked at him deeply and thought he was an idiot. In his view, people were all selfish. Those who fought to adopt him were after his house and the money his parents had left behind.
During the time they’d been abroad for treatment, Qin Kun knew Su Siwen had cried many times when he thought no one was watching. After the surgery, when the anesthesia wore off, the doctor described it simply: Su Siwen would have to go through the process of his bones shattering and then slowly healing. No one could bear that pain for him.
Thankfully, Youyou had come. Whenever Su Siwen refused to eat properly, the little guy would pout, looking at him with tearful big eyes, and Su Siwen would give in, picking up his bowl and finishing every last bite. Su Siwen had grown used to sleeping with Youyou during this time. Every night, he had a soft, sweet-smelling little treasure curled up in his arms, and he couldn’t help but reach out to pat his little belly. Su Siwen yawned, slid into the covers, and lightly rested his long fingers on Qin Kun’s chest.
Hmm, hard.
But the feel was okay. He was getting a bit addicted to touching; his eyes closed, his fingers sliding down to the abs. Qin Kun’s workout results were clearly visible in this moment, his abdominal muscles defined but not overly exaggerated. His body was warm, making Su Siwen feel at ease. Su Siwen turned sideways, resting his right hand on Qin Kun as well, appearing to embrace him intimately. Qin Kun stiffened, then wrapped his arm around Su Siwen’s waist. They were very close. Su Siwen pressed against his warm body, sensing something, and a smile curved at his lips.
“You’ve really been working hard,” he said softly, his voice muffled against Qin Kun’s chest.
Qin Kun’s mind was full of things that made him blush, and he didn’t quite catch it: “What did you say?”
Su Siwen smiled: “Nothing. Time to sleep.”
Qin Kun’s Adam’s apple bobbed. He said, “Okay,” then slid under the covers as well. In the darkness, all he could feel were Su Siwen’s fingers moving around on him. He finally grabbed them. Su Siwen was in a good mood tonight. When his hand was caught, he swung his leg over Qin Kun’s body.
Qin Kun’s throat went dry. He said his name in a low voice, with a hint of warning: “Siwen.”
Then his larger frame loomed over Su Siwen. Qin Kun leaned in and touched his lips to Su Siwen’s. Qin Kun’s lips were dry and warm, his touch gentle. Su Siwen reached up to touch his face, parting his lips slightly to kiss him back. Qin Kun’s heart pounded wildly, feeling like it might burst.
A hint of smugness lingered at the corner of Su Siwen’s mouth. He poked Qin Kun’s finger and said, “I’m in a good mood today. I’ll let you kiss me. Okay?”
In the darkness, the man’s gaze deepened. He reached out and firmly pulled Su Siwen closer, holding him by the shoulders.
“No.”
Su Siwen chuckled: “Just kissing.”
Qin Kun’s face grew warm at the thought. His voice was hoarse: “Really not okay.”
Su Siwen leaned against his chest and laughed freely. Qin Kun felt underestimated. He pinched Su Siwen, letting one hand slide down his back and around his waist. Su Siwen let out a soft sound. That dry, calloused palm felt like it carried sparks, stirring him with each touch. The temperature under the covers rose suddenly. Qin Kun was sweating, yet he didn’t stop, his hand moving to Su Siwen’s softest spots.
Before tonight, the two had been consumed by various emotions, their daily intimacy limited to hugs and kisses. They hadn’t been close like this in a long time. Both were young, passionate men, and now they truly couldn’t stop. Su Siwen leaned up to kiss him, and Qin Kun responded with light, close kisses. Forehead, cheeks, chest, going from light to deep, from gentle to firm.
The small night light by the bed had turned on at some point, and clothes were scattered across the floor. Qin Kun’s arms tightened around Su Siwen’s waist, their skin touching, and there was no more satisfying moment than this. They had shed all their clothes during their previous tussling. Qin Kun braced his hands on either side of Su Siwen, leaning down, preparing to move. Then they heard footsteps outside, stopping at their door five seconds later.
Su Siwen’s breathing was uneven: “I think it’s Youyou.”
Qin Kun looked into Su Siwen’s eyes and said in a low voice, “It’s okay. I locked the door.”
Su Siwen blushed, grabbing his arms.
“Dad, open the door.” A clear, milky voice came through.
The little guy stood on his tiptoes, raising his hands high, and began shaking the doorknob with all his might. It wouldn’t open. Dad had locked it. Whatever he took after, Su Youli was not one to give up. The little guy worked fast, the doorknob rattling loudly as he shook it, calling for his dad. Through the little guy’s relentless efforts, the door actually opened. Su Youli stood there in his one-piece pajamas and little slippers, his fluffy curls sticking up, breathing hard. He was beaming, holding the doorknob.
“Dad, Youyou is here!”
Qin Kun and Su Siwen, who had just frantically thrown on their clothes a second ago, were speechless.
(Author’s note: Youyou has plenty of strength and means!)
Enjoying the story? There’s more where this came from. Patrons get to read the next chapters early, before they go live on the site, so you never have to wait on the cliffhanger. If a subscription isn’t your thing, a one-time tip on Ko-Fi or PayPal works just as well. Either way, every bit keeps the late nights and coffee going. Thank you for reading. 💙
