Chapter 133 Drowning Sorrows in Alcohol

Lu Lin waited until he finished showering, then made a special trip downstairs to heat up a glass of milk.

He pushed open the door, milk in hand, and froze at the scene before him.

The room was dimly lit.

Only the floor lamp by the sofa glowed, casting a warm yellow light.

Shen Qingci had already bathed and was now lounging on the sofa, sinking into the plush cushions.

He wore a silk robe that fell to his calves, the fabric light and soft, rippling like water under the warm lamplight.

The belt was loosely tied around his waist, outlining his slender frame.

A broad expanse of pale skin was bared on his chest, his collarbones clearly defined.

His long legs were crossed, fully exposed where the robe gaped open.

Those legs were long and straight, jade-white skin glowing softly under the light.

The curve of his calves was elegant, his ankles delicate, his toes rounded.

Jet-black strands of hair cascaded over his shoulders, water droplets slowly dripping from the tips, dampening the robe's shoulders.

A few strands clung to his cheeks, making his face appear even more ethereal and detached.

The usual coldness in his expression had faded, replaced by a trace of languor and drunkenness.

His lashes lowered, casting a faint shadow beneath his eyes, making it hard to read his expression.

He held a wine glass between his fingers, filled with amber liquid.

He gently swirled his wrist, making the liquid spin slowly in the glass, catching the light in tiny shimmers.

Lu Lin glanced at the liquor cabinet, then at the man who was clearly drunk on the sofa.

This was the third time he had seen his brother like this.

One time for him, one time for Shen Suili.

And the first time? Most likely for Shen Suili too.

Jealousy.

Jealous of everyone who’d been by his brother’s side since childhood, but fortunately… from now on, his brother only needed him.

Lu Lin’s grip on the milk glass tightened.

Shen Qingci noticed the movement at the door.

He shifted slightly, adjusting to a more comfortable position on the sofa.

The slight movement made his robe collar slide even wider, revealing more fair skin.

He saw Lu Lin, shut his eyes, and said in a lazy, cool tone, with a hint of drunken softness:

“Come here, dry my hair.”

His voice was soft, like a feather brushing lightly against Lu Lin’s heart.

He stood there, taking in the scene.

His eyes darkened entirely.

He remembered when Shen Qingci first took him in and had called him over for a talk. That time, he had pushed open the door warily and found Shen Qingci by the window, hair still damp, draped in a sheer silk robe.

At the time, he’d just thought the man was breathtakingly beautiful, almost unreal.

It wasn’t until he turned twelve that he dreamed of Shen Qingci. Waking up, he stared in bewilderment at his soiled underwear, then went online to research, learned that men could be together, and from then on, there was no going back.

Lu Lin recalled the wet dream from his childhood, in which Shen Qingci’s face, flushed with passion, was barely visible.

His Adam’s apple bobbed as a surge of heat shot straight to his groin.

He raised his eyes to the cool, jade-white figure on the sofa, a flash of barely suppressed, blood-red restlessness in his eyes.

He used almost all his willpower to push down the thoughts that threatened to shatter his sanity.

Lu Lin took a deep breath and walked over.

He first set the glass of milk down gently on the tea table, then reached out, took the wine glass from Shen Qingci’s fingers, and set it aside.

Shen Qingci opened his eyes a crack and looked at him.

That look was hazy from drink, shimmering with liquid light.

Lu Lin’s heart skipped a beat instantly.

He walked around behind the sofa, picked up the hair dryer, and began to dry Shen Qingci’s hair.

His fingers moved gently through the slightly damp strands.

But his eyes surged with uncontrollable excitement and madness.

His eyes fixed on the back of Shen Qingci’s neck.

On the exposed, pale, delicate skin.

On the faintly visible collarbones.

On the chest, barely hidden by the robe’s collar, rising and falling with each breath.

The faint scent of wine, mingled with the fresh fragrance of Shen Qingci’s bath, lingered in his nostrils.

That scent, like the most potent drug, slowly eroded what little reason he had left.

Until the hair in his hands turned soft and fluffy, and the jet-black strands regained their usual smoothness.

He set down the hair dryer.

The room fell quiet.

Lu Lin stood, his gaze dark and obsessive, his eyes brimming with barely suppressed desire and possessiveness.

He leaned down.

He brushed aside the long hair that had spilled over the shoulders.

He lowered his head and kissed that smooth, delicate neck.

The moment his warm lips met skin, he could feel the man beneath him tremble slightly.

His voice was low and hoarse, with irrepressible possessiveness and greed, and he murmured softly:

“Brother…”

“Hmm.”

Shen Qingci gave a lazy hum, slightly hoarse from the alcohol, the tone rising slightly at the end, like a feather tickling your heart.

He paused, then spoke again:

“Carry me to bed.”

“Okay.”

Lu Lin's reply was low and husky.

He bent down and carefully lifted him from the sofa.

Shen Qingci naturally leaned into his arms, his head tilted, resting on Lu Lin's shoulder.

His smooth hair brushed against Lu Lin's chin, carrying the faint scent of his bath and a hint of alcohol.

Lu Lin looked down at him.

He watched his eyelashes tremble, his flushed cheek from the alcohol, and his slightly parted lips.

He carried him to the bedside and gently set him down.

Shen Qingci touched the pillow, slightly turned his head, and his breathing gradually steadied.

Lu Lin stood by the bed, looking at his sleeping face.

His gaze roamed unabashedly over the nearly naked body.

The dark hair scattered on the pillow, the flushed cheeks, the slightly parted lips, the exposed pale neck, the hint of his chest, and his long, straight legs peeking out from under the robe.

His breathing instantly turned ragged.

He closed his eyes, trying to suppress the desire rising in him.

But…

he couldn't.

He opened his eyes.

In those eyes, desire surged and obsession twisted, and an endless, bone-deep possessiveness.

He reached down and pulled open his own sleepwear.

Then he climbed onto the bed.

He gently settled over Shen Qingci's body, pulled the blanket over them, and then lowered his head to kiss those slightly parted lips.

Their lips met.

The faint scent of alcohol spread between them.

Shen Qingci's eyelashes fluttered.

He slowly blinked his eyes open.

His eyes were hazy and glistening.

He stared at the handsome face inches from his own, at the man who was kissing him.

He reached up and pushed him away.

“You're jabbing me.”

His voice, roughened by alcohol, his brows slightly furrowed, his tone edged with displeasure.

Seeing him like this, desire flared in his eyes even brighter.

He leaned in and brushed those lips again.

His voice turned low and coaxing:

“Where's it jabbing you, brother?”

Shen Qingci's hand slowly slid down.

It came to rest on Lu Lin's groin.

Then he tapped it with his finger.

Lu Lin's breath hitched.

His eyes swirled with desire, nearly brimming over.

He looked down to meet Shen Qingci's eyes, still hazy with drink but clear and cold.

His voice dropped low, rough and seductive:

“Is it keeping you up, brother?”

Shen Qingci nodded.

Lu Lin gave a humming 'Mm-hmm'.

He leaned in close to Shen Qingci's ear, his warm breath ghosting over his sensitive ear:

“Then, brother, help me teach it a lesson.”

His voice dropped even lower, dripping with unspoken suggestion:

“Make it… go down, okay?”

Shen Qingci watched him.

He looked at those eyes—so close—at the desire and obsession surging within them, at the anticipation and plea he tried so hard to hide.

His voice was calm when he answered:

“Okay.”