Chapter 11 Little Fag

Chapter 11: Little Fag [little fag]

After his shower, Yuan Che burrowed under the covers with wet hair.

He hadn't dried his hair, and his pajamas were a mess, but he couldn't be bothered with that.

He needed to calm down.

To quietly savor this perfect day.

His husband, whom he had missed for days, had finally returned from a business trip, and the first thing he did after getting off the plane was to pick him up.

Under the table, he had held his hand! And again when they walked to the parking lot! Those tiny moments that others wouldn't even notice played over and over in his mind, each time revealing new sweetness.

But the most important, the most thrilling thing was—

His husband had called him "baby" in the car!

"Baby—"

He buried his face in the quilt and chuckled. Just recalling that deep voice sent a dizzying wave of happiness enveloping him, making his limbs go weak. Baby. What a soft, intimate word. Why had he never realized how intoxicating those two syllables could be?

He turned over in the bed, staring at the ceiling, unable to wipe the smile off his face. His mind began to replay images: Lin Zaishan’s profile while driving, the slender fingers that had caressed his cheek, and those eyes that looked at him with such deep affection they seemed to drip with honey.

"Once, twice, no Shan..." he whispered the name, laughing each time he said it.

He could hardly believe he was actually legally married to such a perfect man!

He was too happy.

So happy that he was willing to fold his sister's clothes for a lifetime—no, two lifetimes.

So happy that he could—

"What are you doing here?!"

The blanket was suddenly thrown back.

Lin Zaishan stood by the bed, staring down at him with a horrified expression, as if he had found a family of giant rats in his bed.

Still basking in the lingering effect of the word "baby," Yuan Che hadn't really heard what he said. He just sat there blankly, with a head of messy wet hair, staring dumbly at the man by the bed.

"This is... my bed, right?" Lin Zaishan stressed again, his tone taking on a dangerous edge, his expression turning more severe.

This time Yuan Che heard clearly.

But his brain failed to process the information.

Because all his attention was riveted by the scene before him—Lin Zaishan was only wearing a towel around his lower body.

Freshly showered, his hair still dripping, water droplets rolled down his neck, along the deep, sharp lines of his abs. Yuan Che's eyes tracked those droplets from his collarbone down to his lower stomach, as if frozen by a spell.

Compared to the sunny teenager in the photo from when he was seventeen, Lin Zaishan now was much paler, but his shoulders were twice as wide. Every line on his arms was exquisitely defined, clearly from working out regularly.

After just a few seconds of staring, Yuan Che's heart began to race.

A different kind of racing heart. Not the shy, bashful, heart-fluttering-like-a-startled-deer kind from before. This time, he could clearly feel a surge of heat rising from deep within his body, making his throat dry and his fingertips tingle—an odd, unfamiliar thrill—

"What are you daydreaming about?" Lin Zaishan suddenly leaned in, hands planted on the edge of the bed. "I asked you a question—why are you in my bed?"

The distance suddenly closed.

Yuan Che could smell the scent of his body wash, mixed with the warm, steamy scent of a man just out of the shower. His breath caught, and he flinched back by instinct, his back hitting the headboard.

"You—don't come over!"

The volume startled even himself.

Lin Zaishan was also taken aback by his shout, his brows furrowing.

Realizing he had lost his cool, Yuan Che scrambled forward in a fluster to the edge of the bed, softening his voice with a pleading, eager tone: "Baby, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to yell at you—"

Lin Zaishan's face completely darkened.

"What did you call me?"

He had a naturally fierce look; when he didn't smile, it gave off a "stay away from me" vibe. Usually at the company, no one dared to crack jokes in front of him. He had been pretty polite to Yuan Che on the phone for the past two weeks, but now this guy not only inexplicably lay in his bed, but dared to call him—

Baby?

What the hell?

Wasn't "husband" disgusting enough? Had he already come up with a new term?

He stared at the man on the bed who was pretending to be innocent, his anger flaring up inside him. His rational side told him not to lose his temper—after all, he was being paid for this arrangement—but at this moment, he really couldn't fucking control it.

"Speak!" he shouted again.

Yuan Che shuddered and instinctively grabbed the blanket tighter. He stared blankly at Lin Zaishan's frowning face and carefully repeated: "I... I called you baby... is that not allowed?"

"No, you can't."

Lin Zaishan answered firmly. He looked Yuan Che up and down, held back again and again, and finally just pointed a finger in the air: "From now on, don't call me that."

"But..." Yuan Che was a bit aggrieved. "You called me that in the car just now..."

Lin Zaishan was at a loss for words.

He paused, then remembered that he had indeed casually called him that. But that was because—

What was the reason again?

Right, because he couldn't remember this fool's name!

Irritated, he raised his hand and ran it back through his wet hair, wondering how to explain to this fool. He couldn't just say, "I forgot your name so I called you that casually," could he?

This originally casual action made the man on the bed stare wide-eyed.

"You..." Yuan Che's eyes went wide as he pointed at him.

"What about me?"

"That gesture—so hot!"

Lin Zaishan looked at his sparkling eyes and felt a wave of nausea.

He looked down and belatedly realized—he hadn't been wearing a shirt this whole time!

Fuck. Dirty pervert.

He turned around without a word and headed straight for the walk-in closet, his steps quick and urgent, not wasting a single second.

While pulling on his T-shirt, he kept muttering curses—at the little fag on the bed, and at himself. How could he be so careless? But thinking about it, it wasn't entirely his fault. None of his friends were gay men. Who would have guessed that one day a little fag would be sitting on his bed?

Wait—

That little fag was still sitting on his bed!

He strode back into the bedroom in three quick steps.

The sight before him made his blood boil—

The little fag had already made himself comfortable in bed. Eyes closed, blanket neatly tucked up to his chin, looking utterly peaceful, as if ready to sleep.

Lin Zaishan had initially planned to politely persuade him to leave, after all, he'd been paid and needed to handle things with finesse.

Now?

Fuck finesse.

"Get up!" he shouted from beside the bed, his voice barely contained.

That shout yanked Yuan Che back from the edge of sleep.

He was dead tired, his mind foggy. To make a good impression on Lin Yajun, he'd voluntarily sent Sun Qi away. He didn't have a cent on him, couldn't afford a bed like the one at home. For the past half month at Lin Yajun's place, he hadn't gotten a full night's sleep—the mattress was on the floor, the room too empty, no one beside him. He'd been awake all night, every night, waiting for Lin Zaishan to come back so at least someone would be there.

Now this guy was messing with him before bed.

He didn't want to deal with Lin Zaishan, really. His eyelids were too heavy to lift, his brain felt like paste.

But ignoring him didn't seem like an option. After all, this was his treasure. His treasure was angry, so he needed to soothe him. Though he wasn't entirely sure why the treasure was angry again...

"What's wrong now, baby?" he forced his eyes open, his voice soft, without a hint of anger.

Lin Zaishan was already pissed, and that "baby" pushed him over the edge.

"Open your eyes!"

He stepped forward and pinched Yuan Che's chin.

It was a pinch, but he held back. Lin Zaishan wasn't stupid enough to actually hurt him—he just wanted to scare the little fag. His gut told him this guy was more receptive to force than gentleness, and he needed to teach him a lesson, or else his clinginess would never end.

Yuan Che opened his eyes.

He didn't struggle, didn't pull away. He just tilted his face up, blinking quietly, looking at him like a cat being scruffed by the neck.

Lin Zaishan didn't let go. He set the rule directly: "Listen up. From now on, don't call me 'baby,' got it?"

"Why?"

"No reason. I don't like it."

"Okay." Yuan Che agreed without hesitation, his eyes still sleepy and dazed. "If you don't like it, I won't do it."

Lin Zaishan paused.

Fine, he's well-behaved.

He let go, turned around to grab a towel to dry his hair, and tossed over his shoulder, "Alright, now get out of bed."

"No."

A soft voice came from behind, yet with an unexpectedly unyielding tone.

Lin Zaishan stopped in his tracks, turned back, and looked at him in disbelief: "What did you say?"

"I said no." Yuan Che repeated patiently, eyelids heavy, but still forcing himself to look at him. "Why won't you sleep with me? Are you still angry?"

Lin Zaishan laughed at his self-righteous tone: "Why would I sleep with you?"

"Because we're married."

Good! Lin Zaishan was waiting for that.

He leisurely strolled back to the bedside, sat on the edge, and put on a face of understanding: "Just because we're married doesn't mean we have to sleep together. I've never shared a bed with anyone. It's a personal habit of mine, got it?"

Yuan Che blinked, silent.

Lin Zaishan moved in a bit and switched to a gentle, big-brother demeanor, speaking seriously: "On the mainland, many couples sleep in separate beds. It's about respecting each other's habits. If someone's next to me, I can't sleep a wink all night."

He spoke with genuine feeling, every word dripping with consideration, but Yuan Che's brows knit tighter and tighter, until he wilted like a cabbage left out in the sun all day.

Seeing this, Lin Zaishan inwardly gloated. He'd been tough enough tonight; now it was time for softness. Mixing tough love with kindness, he'd surely persuade him to leave.

Just as he was thinking this, Yuan Che drooped his head and spoke: "But I haven't slept in days, you know."

"What?" Lin Zaishan froze. "My mom didn't let you sleep?"

Yuan Che shook his head, let out a long sigh, and then poured out his sleeping quirks one by one—he needed someone with him, and the bed had to be on the floor, or he'd be awake all night.

Lin Zaishan listened with patience at first, but the more he heard, the more absurd it got, and finally he cut him off: "You need a servant to sleep next to you? Then why did you chase her away?"

"Because..." Yuan Che stammered, "Well... it's just..."

"Alright," Lin Zaishan waved a dismissive hand, "Contact her tomorrow, tell her to come back. Tell her I said so."

Yuan Che didn't follow. What difference did who said it make? The problem was he had no idea how to contact Sun Qi. When she left, she told him to "write a letter," but once the door closed, he realized he'd never asked for the address.

"What about tonight?" He decided to handle what was right in front of him.

Lin Zaishan leaned in, put a hand on his shoulder, his fingers lightly kneading his bone, his voice low and coaxing: "Just tough it out one more night, okay? Baby?"

Yuan Che's brain went fuzzy the moment he heard "baby."

That "baby" sank into his bones, shattering all his principles and boundaries. He had to nod, he absolutely had to! His husband had been working so hard away from home for days, how could he let him sleep badly at home?

As for Sun Qi...

"Could I call my sister?" he asked.

The second those words left his mouth, Lin Zaishan's face darkened.

"Who do you want to call?" he asked, frowning.