Yan Qing only felt Chen’s hand lightly brush his cheek before the world spun. When his vision finally refocused, he found himself lying on his back on the bed. Through his blurred sight, Chen’s expression wasn’t very clear, but Yan Qing could distinctly feel golden hair falling against his neck.

  It tickled a little.

  Just as Yan Qing reached up to brush away whatever was bothering him, he realized Chen had somehow restrained both of his wrists above his head.

  Confused, he opened his mouth to protest.

  “Chen— mm!”

  A tingling heat surged through his mouth, sharp and unexpected, stealing his breath and leaving him gasping. The air seemed to thicken, every inhale laced with a dizzying warmth that blurred the edges of his awareness, until all he could feel was the electric rush beneath his skin.

  His dark eyes glistened with moisture, like starlight at night—dim, yet impossible to look away from. Chen propped himself up, a faint smile curving his lips, but the usual gentleness was gone, replaced by something openly predatory. It lent his breathtaking features a dangerously alluring edge.

  Yan Qing stared blankly at the face inches from his own, his mind completely short-circuited. He didn’t even know what was happening anymore—only that when he managed to focus again, something felt very wrong somewhere below.

  “W-what are you doing…?”

  Yan Qing’s face flushed painfully red as the human scientist stared in alarm at the golden head buried against his chest. He tried to stop the hand intruding into an intimate place, only to realize his other wrist was still firmly pinned.

  Sensing that the person beneath him had finally snapped back to awareness, Chen lifted his head and met his gaze. His golden pupils glowed like a beast’s in the dark—dangerously seductive.

  “Doing what?” he murmured. “What do you think?”

  “I—I want to be on top!”

  Perhaps it was the toxin, but his thoughts were still muddled as Yan Qing suddenly struggled, trying to rise.

  “Let go—let go!”

  Though desire burned fiercely, Chen still didn’t want to hurt him. He sighed, released his grip, and carefully turned Yan Qing by the waist, adjusting their positions while soothing him gently.

  “Alright. Slowly. Be careful—you’ll fall.”

  Yan Qing shivered, feeling oddly cold. Then he noticed—his clothes were gone, while Chen was still wearing that strange robe. He glanced down, vaguely sensing something was off about the position, though his foggy mind couldn’t figure out why.

  “Why didn’t you take yours off?” he asked, tilting his head in annoyance. “Why only mine?”

  Chen curved his eyes slightly. His pupils, once narrow like a cat’s, dilated into round, almost human circles. Dishevelled hair framed his face, tinting his elegant features with desire. He lifted his chin, half-teasing, half-inviting.

  “You can take them off yourself.”

  The black-haired youth froze, staring as if mesmerized. Then he shook his head sharply, as if trying to focus, and immediately leaned forward, pressing against Chen’s chest as he clumsily tugged at the unfamiliar robe.

  Beneath him, Chen clenched his fists, suppressing the urge to flip him over and take complete control. He’d watched plenty of human erotica and thought this would be playful foreplay—but now he realized television truly exaggerated nonsense.

  Feeling Yan Qing’s movements grow rougher while his own clothes remained untouched, Chen raised a brow and sighed.

  “Yan Qing… get up for a moment. I’ll do it myself.”

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  Otherwise the mood would be completely ruined.

  For reasons unknown, Yan Qing obediently nodded and lifted himself, staring unblinkingly as Chen sat up.

  Chen undressed calmly under that intense gaze, and couldn’t help smiling at the scientist’s wide-eyed shock.

  “Well?” he asked.

  Yan Qing scanned him slowly, shock melting into unguarded desire.

  “…I like it,” he murmured, cheeks flushed, black hair spilling messily across his lean chest. His swollen lips parted and closed, still damp, paired with unfocused eyes—it was unbearably provocative.

  Chen’s golden gaze darkened instantly. He reached out, pulling Yan Qing into his arms, kissing him fiercely. Yan Qing responded just as passionately, as if he wanted to devour him whole.

  Their bodies tangled together, black hair interwoven with gold, the air thick with desire.

  “Mm—!”

  Half-dazed, Yan Qing suddenly grabbed the golden head between his legs, fingers threading tightly into shimmering hair. His slender chest heaved as he opened his eyes, meeting Chen’s gaze once more.

  “Chen… don’t… I—!”

  Under relentless stimulation, Yan Qing climaxed unexpectedly in Chen’s mouth.

  His heart felt as though it might burst from his chest. Overwhelmed with embarrassment, he tried to rise at once.

  “I’m sorry, I—”

  “It’s fine,” Chen said softly, voice thick with desire. “Wasn’t that good?”

  That was when Yan Qing realized—

  Realized what had just happened.

  “Y-you—how did you—”

  Now clearer-headed, Yan Qing stared at the approaching blond in stunned horror, face burning red.

  He was completely inexperienced.

  This is so embarrassing—oh god…

  He turned his head away, eyes squeezed shut, unable to bear looking.

  Unfortunately, shutting out sight only heightened everything else.

  His heartbeat thundered in his ears.

  Then—a sensation he had never felt before, cool and slick, spread over an unspeakably sensitive place. Startled, he opened his eyes to see what Chen was doing—

  And froze.

  “No—no, you can’t!”

  Yan Qing cried out in panic, shaking his head violently, hair flying wildly. He tried to pull away, but the lingering toxin left his limbs uncoordinated and weak.

  “OK.” Chen let go immediately.

  Yan Qing’s breath came fast, his cheeks burning with a mix of embarrassment and anticipation. He reached for Chen, voice trembling between bravado and uncertainty.

  “No, come here. I mean… will it hurt too much?” His words were rushed, almost blurted, as if he was afraid to give himself time to reconsider.

  Chen hesitated, a flicker of uncertainty breaking through his usual confidence. “I… I don’t know,” he admitted, his voice softer than before. “But I’ll be careful.” There was a vulnerability in his answer, as if he was just as unsure as Yan Qing, and trying to mask it with a gentle promise.

  The realization hit Yan Qing all at once—Chen was just as inexperienced, just as nervous. The tension between them thickened, a blend of longing and apprehension. Yan Qing let out a shaky laugh, half in disbelief. “Oh my god, you really don’t know this, do you?”

  “Yan Qing, what your erotica material claimed as ‘vibe’ is going very quickly.” Chen took a deep breath, he pushed himself up quickly, trying to get out of the bed, uncertainty warring with desire.

  But Yan Qing caught his arm, holding him close. “Don’t go,” he whispered, his grip tightening. “Keep going.” His voice was raw, honest, and the vulnerability in it matched the look in Chen’s eyes.

  For a moment, neither of them moved, caught between fear and uncertainty, the air charged with everything they couldn’t say. Then, slowly, Chen leaned in, his touch gentle, as if asking for permission with every movement.

  “OK… vot’z Frolandii,” Chen whispered, his voice impossibly gentle.

  “Please trust me. I won’t hurt you.”

  Perhaps it was sincerity—or perhaps Yan Qing simply trusted him too much. He stilled, dark eyes shimmering with tears as he stared at Chen’s face.

  “…What did you just call me?”

  “Le val’ das, vot’z Frolandii.”

  Chen’s golden eyes held nothing back—piercing, all-seeing, yet brimming with a tenderness that could drown someone.

  Yan Qing lifted his hands, cupping that impossibly smooth skin.

  “Chen… why are you looking at me like that…?”

  As if gazing at something precious beyond measure—something lost and found again.

  Did I forget something…?

  And in that moment of distraction, Chen could no longer hold back.

  He entered him.

  “Ah—!”

  Even though Chen had prepared him, the intrusion brought an unbearable fullness and pain that intensified with every movement. Yan Qing clung to Chen’s neck like someone drowning, gasping for air.

  At first, Chen moved carefully, eliciting trembling breaths. When he felt Yan Qing gradually adapt, he lifted one of Yan Qing’s legs, allowing deeper movement.

  “Chen—slow—slow—”

  But the rhythm only quickened. Yan Qing’s body rocked helplessly beneath him, long black hair spilling from his shoulders in elegant arcs.

  Gradually, the discomfort was replaced by overwhelming pleasure. The stimulation forced helpless moans from Yan Qing’s lips.

  The room filled with heavy breathing.

  Reason vanished entirely.

  Only raw, instinctive desire remained.

  Dawn crept in through the window, illuminating two entwined figures.

  Chen slowly rose, golden eyes glowing faintly.

  He brushed hair from Yan Qing’s sleeping face and murmured:

  “Yan Qing… who placed a quantum computer inside your mind?”