Hot flashes

The meal was eerily quiet. Xiao Jue occasionally served him food, his movements natural, but Zhou Heng ate with trepidation, feeling as if this was "the last supper."

Sure enough, as soon as he put down his chopsticks and rinsed his mouth, Xiao Jue closed the book.

"Did you enjoy your chat with General Zhao and Mr. Du today?" he asked, his tone flat, revealing neither joy nor anger.

Zhou Heng felt a chill run down his spine and forced a dry laugh: "Ha, haha, it was just a casual chat, not... not enough fun, they were all busy..."

Xiao Jue stood up, walked to him, and his tall figure loomed over him.

He reached out and brushed his fingertips across Zhou Heng's slightly sweaty forehead: "Since you know they're busy, don't bother them next time."

His fingers, calloused and slightly rough, slowly slid down to Zhou Heng's chin, gently lifting it to force him to look into his eyes. "If there's anything you want to talk about, anything you want to drink, come back here. I'll keep you company."

His voice was not loud, even gentle, but Zhou Heng could hear the unquestionable tone, as well as the familiar danger signal hidden beneath that gentleness.

"I...I'm a little tired today, I want to go to bed early..." Zhou Heng tried to make one last effort, his eyes darting around.

"Mm." Xiao Jue readily agreed, his fingers already deftly untying the sash of his outer robe. "Then let's get settled as soon as possible."

……

Zhou Heng was unable to recall the details of what happened next.

All he remembered was how the candlelight flickered and went out, how the darkness amplified all his senses, and how Xiao Jue's body temperature and breath enveloped him completely.

Finally, the storm subsided.

Zhou Heng collapsed onto the sweat-soaked bedding, too weak to even lift a finger. He could only breathe in small gasps with his mouth slightly open, his eyes unfocused as he stared at the blurry shadows above the tent. He felt like a salted fish that had been repeatedly dried and beaten, just one step away from his soul being scattered.

A weight suddenly pressed down on him; it was Xiao Jue lying on top of him, his solid chest pressing against his back, making it hard for him to breathe. Instinctively, he used his last bit of strength to push against the heavy chest, letting out a muffled protest.

The weight on his body paused for a moment, and then the world spun around him.

Before Zhou Heng could react, he was flipped over by a gentle yet irresistible force.

Xiao Jue adjusted his position, placing himself underneath, while he... lay on top of Xiao Jue.

This position made Zhou Heng very uncomfortable. He struggled to get down, but a strong arm held him firmly around the waist, keeping him in place.

"Don't move." Xiao Jue's voice came from above his head, hoarse with a strange sense of languid satisfaction.

His hand slowly moved across Zhou Hengguang's bare back, the warmth of his palm soothing his slightly sweaty skin with just the right amount of pressure, as if comforting him, or as if surveying his own territory.

Immediately, Zhou Heng felt a soft, warm touch on the top of his head.

one more time.

It was Xiao Jue kissing his hair. The movements were very gentle, with an almost tender feeling, the delicate kisses like feathers, lightly brushing against his scalp, occasionally grazing his earlobe.

At the same time, the hand that was moving across his back gradually changed its meaning, from simple comfort to a lingering caress, the fingertips tracing the hollows of his spine, massaging his sore lower back muscles, and even quietly sliding further down...

Zhou Heng's body stiffened.

"Xiao Jue..." he began, his voice hoarse and strained, "You...you've gone too far..."

"Hmm?" Xiao Jue's response was nasal as he kissed his temple. "Where did I go too far?"

"You..." Zhou Heng stammered, then after a long pause, managed to squeeze out, "...lacking self-control!"

A very low, pleasant chuckle came from above. Xiao Jue tightened his arms around them, pressing their bodies together without any gap.

"Restraint?" He repeated the word, a hint of amusement in his voice, his lips brushing against Zhou Heng's earlobe, his warm breath filling the air. "How can I be restrained with you?"

Zhou Heng's ears burned, and she buried her face deeper into the crook of his neck, not wanting him to see her flushed face, but she still refused to back down: "But you can't... do this every day! I have to work tomorrow!"

"You're allowed to sleep in an hour later." Xiao Jue readily complied.

His hand continued to stroke Zhou Heng's back intermittently, like soothing a cat's fur. "Besides," he paused, his voice lower and more coaxing, "you weren't entirely unaffected just now, were you?"

Zhou Heng trembled, feeling ashamed and indignant at being exposed.

He stopped talking and lay on top of Xiao Jue in despair.

Exhaustion washed over me like a tide, and my consciousness began to blur.

The candle wax dripped silently.

Inside the tent, only two intertwined breaths, gradually becoming steady, remained.