Living Sacrifices (1)
Shi An’s words were like a lightning bolt and Mu Heng was shaken into blankness.
The innocent and naive Shi An in front of him did not seem to feel that there was anything wrong with what he had just said.
With almost no warning, the image deliberately forgotten earlier came to mind vividly.
Touch, warmth.
Sound, color, light, image.
It all came to mind most vividly.
The soft and delicate touch of the other person’s waistline still lingered on his fingertips like a blazing fire that burned straight from the end of his nerves to his bones, burning him to the core.
Mu Heng was momentarily agitated.
He subconsciously took a step back, his voice low and slightly trembling, with a hint of hoarseness. “You…”
“You don’t believe?”
Shi An blinked and jumped out of his seat.
He frowned, seemingly offended by Mu Heng’s distrust, and reached out to take Mu Heng’s hand with no further ado, then naturally snuggled his body over, saying earnestly, “You can touch–”
Before finishing his sentence, the man before him jerked his hand out as if he had been scalded.
Mu Heng retreated several steps.
“…No need.” He gritted his teeth and his voice was hoarse.
For as long as he could remember, Mu Heng had never been in such a state of distress.
Shi An was a little confused as to why the bright shiny human in front of him was acting so strangely.
He thought for a moment and asked, “Are we sleeping together tonight?”
The man in front of him stood a few paces away as if deliberately distancing himself. His brow was high and furrowed, his eyes hidden in the shadows, his expression not entirely clear, his lips tightly pursed, all his emotions hidden under a deep sea of ice, impossible to see the slightest hint of them.
After a long silence, he gave a calm “hm.”
The night was uneventful.
The next day, Mu Heng opened his eyes at 6 a.m.
His eyes were clear, not half asleep.
–Although he had kept his promise, he could not let what had happened last time happen again.
He had often worked for days on end on assignments and it was easy for him to stay awake all night long.
Mu Heng sat up silently.
He paused, taking in the faint morning light from the window, and turned his head to look at the young man beside him.
Shi An was curled under the blanket, covering himself tightly, half his face buried in the fluffy pillow, his dense black eyelashes hanging down, casting a slight shadow.
He was enveloped in the hazy, uncertain light, looking still and serene.
The young man slept freely, guileless of the person beside him.
The faint morning light filled the room with a specific, instantly recognizable silence.
Mu Heng leaned over almost uncontrollably.
His fingertips dangled in front of the boy’s cheek, stopping short of contact.
The man pursed his lips tightly, the line of his lips forming an impersonal, cold, hard line, his eyes slightly deep, the dark color of the sea rolling under them.
After a long time, he slowly took a deep breath and closed his eyes.
But at that moment, the sleeping young man stirred restlessly, mumbling as his cheek brushed against the man’s fingertips which were about to pull away.
The little patches of skin touched and parted briefly in a flash of lightning.
Like a spark falling into a wildfire, it exploded into a searing flame that could consume everything, crackling and destroying rationality.
By the time Mu Heng realized it, his fingertips had already dropped.
This time, it was not an unintended accident but contact was made in a fully conscious state.
There was no barrier between the fingertip and the skin.
The young man’s cheek was slightly cool and soft.
The touch he had explored and fantasized about in his mind was now real and vividly burned into the end of his fingers.
An inexplicable, ambiguous impulse began to fester in his heart.
Mu Heng’s eyes were incomprehensible, his pale blue pupils indistinctly cloudy and as deep as an abyss.
His fingertips slid silently, the belly of his thumb pressed against the boy’s lower lip, applying slight pressure as a crimson color emerged from beneath the twisted lips, his fingertips resting against the white, hard rows of teeth.
Like a clam shell.
If you pry it open gently, you can touch the soft flesh.
Warm, soft, and moist.
Shi An frowned slightly in discomfort, his eyelashes fluttered slightly, and a muffled mumble escaped his throat.
Only then did Mu Heng flinch and he withdrew his hand as if waking up from a dream, jerking back to pull away.
His brow was furrowed, his expression cold and hard with resistance, and he forced himself to look away.
Only the drumming of his heart gave off some unpleasant signal.
***
When Shi An opened his eyes, Mu Heng had left and a new phone had been placed on the pillow.
He examined the remnants of the dragon molt in his body and was surprised and delighted to find that he had one final bit to go before he could fully absorb all the magic in it. Although it was still far from his strength before he fell asleep, it was far better than when he had just woken up.
Immediately afterward, Shi An received a call from Zhao She.
“Hello? Shi An, are you there?” Zhao She sounded a little anxious on the other end of the phone.
Shi An was stunned. “What’s wrong?”
Zhao She’s voice sounded a bit indistinct in the wind and snow. “We have just been notified that the academic exchange conference will be held earlier this year.”
Shi An said, “Earlier?”
Zhao She replied, “Yes. If you want to participate, you have to hurry up here! The vehicles will leave soon!”
After hanging up, Shi An squeezed his phone and fell into deep thought.
