Chapter 110: Chest to Chest.

Chapter 110: Chest to Chest.

Separated by a wall.

Xie Wen was jolted awake from a nightmare, vaguely noticing a light from the bed across his.

Bian Qiao hadn't slept yet; he was on his phone with glasses on. Through the reflection from his glasses, glimpses of a video could be seen.

Xie Wen glanced at the clock, realizing it was nearly midnight. "Aren't you going to bed?"

"Did I disturb you?" Bian Qiao inquired.

"No."

Xie Wen shifted in bed, finding sleep elusive. A pang of sadness hit him — akin to the feeling of seeing one's secret crush in love with someone else.

Yet, he felt a tinge of relief that his affections weren't too deep. Shen Yao must be devastated right now.

Bian Qiao's gaze returned to his phone, putting his headphones back on and watching an edited video clip.

"Is he genuinely drunk or just pretending?"

Song Ji Mo patted Shen Yao's face, catching the strong scent of alcohol, and wrinkled his nose in distaste.

With a hint of irritation, Shen Yao swatted his hand away, his eyes bloodshot. "Pretending."

Song Ji Mo gave an 'I-knew-it' expression. "If you're not drunk, why pretend? Do you know how heavy you are?"

"Why do you care..."

Shen Yao stared silently at the ceiling. After a while, he abruptly rose and headed to the balcony.

Song Ji Mo looked over to see Shen Yao with a cigarette between his lips. Towering and forlorn, Song Ji Mo sauntered over, leaning on the railing beside him.

Shen Yao, clearly agitated, suddenly asked, "What do you think Ying Li and the others are up to right now?"

With a slight smirk, yet a cold expression, Song Ji Mo replied, "Kissing, making love – it's one of those two."

"Damn."

Shen Yao forcefully extinguished his cigarette.

The bathroom light fragmented, casting tiny luminescent specks into Ying Li's eyes. He tilted his head back, the nerves in his brain pulsating. His consciousness felt as if it were floating on the sea, rising and sinking with the waves.

Ying Li gripped Qi Xie's hair tightly, the muscles on his back taut like a beautifully drawn bow. Every so often, a choked whimper would escape his throat.

He felt a tinge of fear, yet he dared not look.

He was truly an oddity, strange in every sense.

He never realized he was so sensitive before; the slightest kiss would make him tremble like this.

The sensation of being controlled and bound was dangerous, yet he didn't despise it. It was novel, delightful, something he had never experienced before meeting Qi Xie.

Qi Xie seemed to be slowly exploring him, discovering his depths.

Perhaps sensing Ying Li's distraction, Qi Xie delved deeper.

The sudden sensation blanked Ying Li's mind, the butterfly bone pressed against the mirror quivering incessantly.

This void seemed to stretch on indefinitely.

Ying Li, as always, melted into a puddle. Weakly raising his eyes to meet Qi Xie's, his numb tongue fumbled for words, yet he managed an accusation, "You're teasing me again."

"Is this considered teasing?"

Qi Xie held Ying Li's limp form, adjusting his disheveled pajamas, licking the moisture from the corner of his lips, gazing down at him.

Ying Li furrowed his brows, "It is. I didn't even agree, and you went on like this..."

They hadn't formally defined their relationship, still in that ambiguous phase. Strictly speaking, even a mere kiss might be crossing a line.

"What should we do?" Qi Xie pressed his forehead to Ying Li's, his expression sincere.

Ying Li was shy and a bit temperamental. As Qi Xie gently massaged Ying Li's calf, he kissed his reddened eyes. His gaze was profound, seemingly tethered to Ying Li, and every so often he'd lean in for another tender kiss, as if he could never get enough.

"Can I kiss you?"

The kisses tickled Ying Li's cheeks, making him squirm. "There's a taste..."

Qi Xie paused. "What taste?"

Ying Li, feeling exceptionally embarrassed, averted his eyes. "Fishy..."

"Not at all. You're sweeter than honey." Qi Xie kept showering Ying Li's cheeks with kisses, his look one of utter infatuation. "I want to kiss you more."

It was as if he was addicted, drawing in all the sweet scents from Ying Li, the sated aroma utterly intoxicating.

He always said things like this, and even though Ying Li knew he'd learned to say them just to please him, his heart still fluttered. Clutching the hem of his clothes, he tilted his face slightly. "Can we sleep after the kiss? I'm really tired."

They'd been playful in the bathroom for quite a while. Ying Li's voice carried traces of exhaustion, and his gaze began to waver.

Qi Xie pecked at Ying Li's half-lidded eyes. "As you wish. We'll sleep after the kiss."

Ying Li still felt that floaty sensation, passively parting his lips for the kiss. Each time Qi Xie kissed him, he'd introduce a new variation, making Ying Li feel woozy and dazed.

He desperately wanted Qi Xie to continue, but he was so tired he could hardly keep his eyes open.

Qi Xie's gentle gaze rested on Ying Li's face, softly kissing the corner of his lips. "Goodnight."

Ying Li responded with a weary hum.

His mind was so weary that his prior trouble of adjusting to different beds seemed to have been cured – as soon as his head hit the pillow, he was out.

In the wee hours, Ying Li felt a bit warm, and in his half-asleep state, he suddenly heard a soft rustling sound behind him.

The blanket was lifted, and someone slid into his cocoon of warmth.

A heated body pressed against his back, emanating dampness. Ying Li wanted to push the intruder away, but his attempt was feeble. Instead, his hand was caught, and strong fingers intertwined with his, holding them gently.

His heart raced uncontrollably.

Amidst this tumultuous feeling, Ying Li drifted back to sleep.

The next morning, Ying Li woke exceptionally early.

A marathon relay was being held locally that day. The program team had signed them up and specifically instructed them to wear sportswear. It would be an hour's drive to the race venue, and fearing he wouldn't wake up on time, Ying Li had set an alarm. It had just gone off.

The first light of dawn was breaking, and there was no one beside him. Gazing at the neatly made bed next to his, Ying Li felt momentarily lost before collecting himself.

Rubbing his eyes, and about to head to the bathroom to freshen up, the door clicked open, letting in a chilly draft.

Qi Xie entered, exuding warmth, his damp hair either wet from dew or sweat. His short-sleeve shirt was so drenched it could be wrung out.

Ying Li retreated back under his blanket, still looking sleepy, "Went for a run?"

"Mhm." Qi Xie removed his soaked t-shirt, revealing his muscular torso.

Ying Li paused for a moment, then pulled his blanket up to hide his blushing cheeks, blinking up at Qi Xie.

Under Ying Li's gaze, Qi Xie undressed completely.

Yinglei seemed to catch a whiff of melted snow, warm and laced with the scent of pheromones.

Suddenly, he recalled their initial acquaintance. He had undressed in front of Qixie without a hint of modesty, and seeing Qixie’s bare skin never provoked a thought. He didn't feel embarrassed, let alone experience a racing heart.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing." He shook his head, his ears flushed in the cold air.

Qixie leaned in and kissed his forehead, "Good boy."

His heart skipped a few beats.

Qixie's gesture seemed so natural and intimate, as if they had been a couple for a long time. Yinglei felt somewhat awkward.

This unease persisted until they finished their morning routines and stepped out.

The door across the hallway opened just then. Xiewen, yawning, greeted them, "Morning, Captain, Brother Yinglei."

Qixie: "Morning."

Yinglei: "Good morning."

Xiewen's drowsiness vanished instantly, and he offered them a sheepish grin.

They went to the hotel's dining room for breakfast. Shenyao and his group arrived later.

"Wow, Dayao, your dark circles are so prominent. Did you not sleep well?" Xiewen asked.

"Mmm, not used to the bed," Shenyao said, donning his cap, eyes bloodshot.

He hadn't slept at all the previous night, spending it on the balcony, smoking.

Xiewen turned to Song Jimo: "Old Song, are you also having trouble adjusting to the bed?"

Faint shadows lurked beneath Song Jimo’s eyes. He nodded, "A bit."

Bianqiao silently ate his breakfast.

Yinglei pursed his lips slightly.

He got the sense that perhaps everyone had a restless night. Xiewen’s eyes bore dark circles, Bianqiao looked fatigued, Song Jimo seemed downcast but managed a smile when their gazes met. Qixie seemed to be the only one slightly better off.

He sighed, feeling, perhaps mistakenly, that their collective unrest was somehow because of him. As this thought crossed his mind, he met Shenyao’s eyes, filled with yearning and intensity.

Shenyao quickly averted his gaze after a brief moment of eye contact, looking rather flustered.

Yinglei: "…?"

He tried to adapt to the palpably tense and peculiar atmosphere.

The marathon relay race began at nine in local time. After breakfast, they left the hotel, reaching the venue precisely at eight.

There were many participants, six in a group, totaling over twenty groups. Most were unfamiliar faces to them. Seeing the production crew with their cameras, some even thought they were shooting a film. Countless phone cameras turned their way.

The event was hosted by the local TV station, and there had been prior negotiations with their production team for collaborative filming.

There was a sizable audience present, creating a vibrant atmosphere. The commentator began introducing the participating teams, the race details, and checkpoint locations. Suddenly, the camera feed shifted, focusing on them.

A group of strikingly handsome young men huddled together. The length of the marathon left Xiewen stunned, "Forty-three kilometers? So each person has to run almost seven kilometers? I didn't even have a full breakfast!"

[Xiewen: Director, you might as well kill me.]

[Hahaha, Xiewen, mind your facial expressions!]

[To those in the know, it looks like you're filming a travel show; to the uninformed, it seems like an extreme challenge.]

Yinglei had only heard of marathons and hadn't participated in such a race before, so he felt a bit nervous.

Shenyao asked, "How do we decide the order?"

"Draw lots?" Song Jimo suggested.

With no objections, they decided to draw lots, the old-fashioned way. The staff mixed up slips of paper with numbers and placed them into a cup for them to pick.

In relay races, the most crucial positions are typically the first and last runners. The first runner establishes a lead, while the last sprints to the finish. These two positions are particularly significant.

Xiewen's heart was pounding. After drawing his lot, he hesitated to open it, murmuring under his breath, hoping he wasn’t the first.

"Captain, which number did you get?" Xiewen sneaked a glance at Qixie, who had drawn first.

Qixie unfolded the slip and said emotionlessly, "First."

[The hexagonal warrior from the All-Star Sports Meet takes the lead!]

[This is a sure win, absolutely certain.]

[Go, Captain, go!]

"Yeah!" Xiewen, in his excitement, almost jumped on the spot. Patting his chest, he unveiled his number, "Second!"

Bianqiao also revealed his draw, "Fourth."

Shenyao's expression was grave, "Fifth."

"Third," Song Jimo said with a raised eyebrow.

Several gazes turned his way. Yinglei seemed a bit dazed, "I... guess I don't need to open mine."

He's the sixth, the final sprinter in the relay.

[Oh dear, Yinglei doesn't exactly look like the athletic type. (bitter smile)]

[Can you really tell someone's athletic prowess by their looks?]

[Well, he does have long legs. It’s just a question of how fast he can run.]

[In that episode in Nancheng, he was almost out of breath climbing a hill. It's clear his stamina isn’t the best.]

[All our hopes now rest on the first five runners.]

[Five "runners"? My mind went somewhere else for a moment.]

[Despicable Me minion, get out.]

Bianqiao asked him, "Think you can handle it?"

Marathons demand a high level of physical endurance. Not only is explosive strength required, but even more so, stamina. Though professional medical teams are stationed on-site, there are often unexpected incidents, with some being too late even for immediate rescue.

Yinglei exhaled and nodded, "I'll give it a try. I've never run such a long distance before."

Shenyao added, "If you feel unwell at any point, let the directors know immediately. Don't push yourself too hard."

They were participating in a less formal competition. The experience was more important than the medal, and health always comes first.

Yi Li smiled lightly, "I know. I want to challenge myself, to discover my own limits."

He was fairly confident in his physical strength. During fitness tests, he could be among the top finishers in the 1500-meter run. He just wasn't sure about his stamina.

With an hour left before the official race, they took the time to practice passing the baton.

Shen Yao made a quick trip to the medical station and returned, handing out two circular patches, resembling band-aids, to each of them.

Yi Li asked curiously, "What are these?"

"Nipple covers," Shen Yao replied, rubbing his nose tip, "They're for the chest. Your nipples can chafe while running. Put them on."

"Thank you," said Yi Li, having heard of these before. He looked at them and inquired, "How should I apply them?"

Thinking of Yi Li, who appeared so pure and pristine in shades of white and pink, Shen Yao felt a warmth surge within him, his ears nearly burning. "Ask the team captain to help you with it."

Author's Note:

Everyone assisted.