Chapter 10
It felt as though a layer of fire were burning beneath his skin. Xie Ning’s emotions sank into a kind of turbulence that should not have been there—he was hot, and unbearably irritable.
A sharp pain came from his palm. Xie Ning lowered his head blankly. When he had snapped the pencil just now, some of the wood splinters had pierced his palm. That faint stinging sensation was like a sudden shower of rain, bringing back a little of his clarity.
In order to stay in working mode at all times and never slack off, Xie Ning had deliberately set up a break room that was not especially comfortable. The bed had an iron frame, and even the slightest movement made it creak and rattle. He stretched out with effort, opened the small refrigerator beside him, took out an ice pack from the freezer compartment, and turned the air conditioner down to the lowest temperature.
His burning skin pressed tightly against the ice pack. Under the low temperature, some of Xie Ning’s heat subsided, but there was still a kind of desire growing ceaselessly, like bacteria multiplying in some damp corner.
A desire to be held.
A desire to be touched.
The wound in his palm was pressed by the ice pack. The pain made Xie Ning let out a soft grunt. He bit down on his lower lip in restraint as tears rose to his eyes. Through that hazy, blurred vision, he reached for the ice water.
He had overestimated his current state. His arm was trembling, and just as his fingers touched the glass, it wobbled and fell, shattering crisply on the floor.
Glass shards flew everywhere. Some of the ice water splashed onto his body. The sudden coolness felt intensely soothing, and he could not help letting out another soft sound.
What followed right after was an even more restless craving.
Just as Xie Ning’s doctor had predicted, Xie Ning’s skin hunger syndrome was slipping more and more out of his control. His consciousness grew increasingly muddled. He pressed hard on the wound in his palm, and the pain disrupted his breathing until it became as ragged as if he had just finished a long-distance run.
His awareness spread into smoke. At that moment, the desire to be held was especially strong. Xie Ning panted softly, one breath after another, and in his haze, he seemed to hear someone calling his name.
Was it this bad already? Was he even hallucinating now?
Xie Ning knew better than anyone that no one but himself should be here at a time like this. It was not the first time he had had a sudden flare-up, but before, it had never been quite this severe. His models all knew he was cold by nature and had a serious obsession with cleanliness, so none of them ever lingered.
He had always gotten through it alone.
Xie Ning wanted to get off the bed, but he really had no strength left. His ankle accidentally struck the rolling clothes rack by the bedside, and the rack toppled over with a loud bang. Immediately after that came another sound—the door being flung open.
Through his hazy consciousness and blurred vision, one tall figure became the only clear thing in existence, tearing through all the indistinct imagery before him.
Xie Ning stared blankly as Pei Zhi crossed the distance in a few huge strides, arriving at his side in an instant and stopping him from getting out of bed.
The break room was forbidden territory inside the studio. Xie Ning never allowed anyone but himself to enter.
At this moment, he forgot to question him and instead said in surprise, “You…”
Hadn’t you already left?
Before he could finish, pain shot through Xie Ning’s ankle, and he let out another soft sound. His ankle seemed to have swollen from the knock. He stretched out his arm, and Pei Zhi mistook it for him trying to get off the bed again.
Looking at the scattered shards and melted ice water all over the floor, and then at Xie Ning’s obviously abnormal state, Pei Zhi’s gaze darkened. “I’m taking you to the hospital.”
“No…”
Panting slowly, Xie Ning lifted his chin little by little. A flush had spread across his cool, pale face, standing out vividly against his jade-white skin. His eyes, always composed and distant, were now full of mist. His lips parted and closed as he struggled to breathe.
His shirt was damp with sweat and clung to his skin, outlining beautiful lines. He caught one of Pei Zhi’s fingers and said weakly, “Don’t go to the hospital.”
Xie Ning did not like hospitals.
Besides, in his condition, going to the hospital would not do much. He had seen many doctors and tried many treatment plans. There was also the fact that he himself had never cooperated well. In any case, his illness had never truly been brought under control.
The touch of skin satisfied some of Xie Ning’s need. He blinked slowly, and the roots of his lashes were wet with tears. When he came back to himself, he quickly let go, his usually indifferent face showing confusion and a trace of panic.
It had only been the slightest touch of a finger, such a tiny area of contact, and yet it had felt so good.
“It’s an old problem. I know what I’m doing,” Xie Ning repeated stubbornly. “Don’t go to the hospital.”
At first, when Pei Zhi had heard Xie Ning’s voice, he really had misunderstood a little. He had even thought he might be interrupting something. But very quickly, he realized that Xie Ning’s voice clearly sounded like he was enduring something—pain, perhaps?
His speech was weak and breathless. He looked miserable, but he was still forcing himself to act strong, as if his body did not matter at all.
For no clear reason, a burst of anger rose in Pei Zhi. He reached out and pinched Xie Ning’s chin. Above his thumb were those full, vivid red lips, tender and soft, while his own hand was so rough it felt like sandpaper. He had not even used much force, yet a small red mark was already left behind on the skin.
Xie Ning looked unbearably fragile right then. His eyes held a thin layer of mist, and the light falling across his face painted it with a faint glow, as though a halo had settled over him.
He was beautiful to an almost excessive degree.
Cold air kept blowing. The air conditioner hummed noisily. A drop of sweat slid down from Pei Zhi’s forehead and gathered at his chin. He stared fixedly at Xie Ning’s face, and his Adam’s apple bobbed sharply.
The hand gripping Xie Ning’s chin kept getting hotter. In the cold room, Pei Zhi suddenly broke out in sweat, and even his own head began to swim. The sick one was clearly Xie Ning, yet somehow the one losing clarity now seemed to be him instead.
The skin contact made Xie Ning feel incredibly comfortable. He could not help narrowing his eyes slightly and tilting his head, trying to rub against Pei Zhi’s hand.
Pei Zhi mistook it for Xie Ning trying to avoid him, as if Xie Ning thought he was dirty.
After all, Xie Ning had such severe cleanliness issues.
There was a puddle of water and broken glass beside the bed. Afraid that Xie Ning would step on it if he got down, or that the mess on the floor might bother him, Pei Zhi decided to clean it up first.
But after glancing around, he could not find any tissues or cleaning tools.
So he simply took off his coat, spread the black coat over the water to soak it up, and covered the shards at the same time so Xie Ning would not step on them.
Underneath, he wore only a sleeveless undershirt. Seeing this, Xie Ning froze for a moment. “You…”
Pei Zhi said, “My clothes are clean.”
Xie Ning: “…”
That was not what he had meant.
[Good thing I happened to be wearing a coat today. Wife loves cleanliness the most. Can’t let wife get dirty.]
[Spoiled little wife. Fuck him.]
What… what?
Ever since becoming an adult, this was the first time Xie Ning had ever been called spoiled.
There was a trace of intimacy in Pei Zhi’s tone, and it sounded strange. Xie Ning lowered his eyes to look at him. One broad hand was supporting the sole of his foot, while the other rolled up his pant leg. At his ankle was a swollen red patch, made even uglier by contrast with the white, soft skin around it.
Xie Ning’s breathing suddenly tightened. Part of it was the sense of strangeness, and part of it was the craving for physical contact.
He tried to pull his foot back.
But Pei Zhi hooked a finger against the sole of his foot. Xie Ning was ticklish, and he nearly let out a sound. He looked at Pei Zhi in surprise.
Pei Zhi said, “I washed my hands.”
“Don’t move. Let me take a look.”
That was not the issue at all.
Embarrassment and a hard-to-name feeling finally brought a rare trace of anger into Xie Ning’s eyes. He looked almost as if he had been deeply humiliated. And yet once his skin was touched, his pores relaxed and sent out signals of pleasure.
No matter how unwilling Xie Ning was to admit it, he had to admit that he felt very good right now.
And he wanted more.
Xie Ning shut his eyes tightly. Both hands gripped the bedsheet hard, wrinkling the snow-white bedding into a crumpled mess. His chest rose and fell with every breath, and his panting came one wave after another.
His face, turned aside, was drawn into a fragile line. The corners of his eyes were a little red, as though he were enduring some emotion too difficult to put into words.
Pei Zhi had told Xie Ning not to move, and Xie Ning had obeyed. But now, the one who did not dare move recklessly had become Pei Zhi instead.
He had only brushed Xie Ning’s ankle bone by accident, and already a sheen of tears had risen in Xie Ning’s eyes.
Pei Zhi, someone who had never known fear, suddenly fell into uncontrollable panic at the sight of the dampness at the corner of Xie Ning’s eyes.
Flustered, Pei Zhi wanted to wipe away Xie Ning’s tears, but he did not dare touch him. After hesitating for half the day, all he managed was a quiet coaxing, “Don’t cry.”
“Does it hurt a lot? It looks swollen. I’ll be gentler. I won’t hurt you.” Pei Zhi said, “Okay?”
Xie Ning had no strength to explain. All he could do was answer weakly with a faint, “Okay.”
A darker-skinned hand supporting a delicate, pale foot—it looked almost too perfectly matched. Pei Zhi had trained in sports since he was young, and his palms were callused, scraping slightly against Xie Ning’s skin in a way that hurt just a little.
Xie Ning tried to pull away, only to have his foot held more firmly.
One look was enough for Pei Zhi to tell the issue. “Your ankle’s a bit swollen. No strenuous movement for a while. No running, and walk as little as possible.”
“You’ll need to apply medicine for the next few days.”
Xie Ning did not hear a word of it.
Just this much simple contact had already improved his condition a great deal. The scorching heat and restlessness from before slowly began to fade. He tried to draw his foot back, but Pei Zhi thought he was fidgeting again.
Pei Zhi frowned, then simply wrapped Xie Ning up in the blanket, avoiding the injured ankle and bundling him up like a cocoon. Then, through the blanket, he pulled Xie Ning into his arms. “There’s broken glass all over the floor, and my clothes aren’t thick.”
Pei Zhi easily lifted Xie Ning up. Xie Ning was slim, and the effort seemed negligible to him.
Resting against Pei Zhi, Xie Ning’s complexion was flushed. The plain, restrained shirt he wore now somehow carried a trace of seductive softness. The top two buttons had come undone, revealing a faint glimpse of his beautiful collarbones.
Pei Zhi’s gaze dropped from his collarbones to his small palm. He took Xie Ning’s hand into his own. “Your hand is hurt too.”
How had he managed to make himself look this pitiful?
Fortunately, the splinter was not too tiny. Pei Zhi lowered his head and focused on picking it out for him.
The sustained contact of skin against skin left Xie Ning’s eyes unfocused. His body had already sunk into the pleasure of being satisfied, and his lips parted slightly as he panted.
A tiny part of Xie Ning still struggled to resist, but every time that protesting voice began to rise, another voice tempted him back—being satisfied felt far too wonderful. Why not indulge just this once?
He had already endured for long enough, had he not?
The satisfaction brought by being held and having his hand held flooded over Xie Ning like an unstoppable tide. Strictly speaking, this was not really a proper hug or hand-holding. But even this simple level of contact was enough to drive away the agitation and anxiety brought on by his skin hunger syndrome.
The effect of real flesh, real skin, and real body heat was far more effective than any other method Xie Ning had ever tried.
Xie Ning’s whole face was damp with sweat, his dark hair sticking to his temples, his eyes dazed yet restrained. He was afraid of becoming addicted, so he tried to push Pei Zhi away. But he had little strength, and instead Pei Zhi caught his wrist and pulled him against his chest.
“You’re sick.” Pei Zhi thought Xie Ning had a fever, though it did not seem quite like one. He asked, “Does this happen to you often?”
The difference in their size and strength was too great. In front of Pei Zhi, Xie Ning was like some small, helpless herbivore.
So he gave up struggling completely and leaned against Pei Zhi, answering weakly, “Mm.”
Xie Ning’s expression gradually settled back into calm, although his face was still flushed.
He closed his eyes. His fine, elegant brows drew together slightly, the thin lids tinted red, and his long lashes, dampened by tears, curled in disarray, making him indescribably moving.
Pei Zhi asked, “If you don’t want to go to the hospital, can you tell me where the medicine is?”
Judging from Xie Ning’s attitude, he was clearly familiar with his own condition. Since he had had attacks before, surely there had to be medicine.
“…There isn’t any medicine,” Xie Ning said softly. “Just pour me some cold water. That’s enough, thank you.”
Pei Zhi said, “Okay.”
Yet as he spoke, he directly picked Xie Ning up. Xie Ning froze, and Pei Zhi explained, “I’m not comfortable letting you out of my sight.”
[Not even for ten seconds.]
There was still a layer of blanket between them, but even so, Xie Ning could clearly feel the strength in Pei Zhi’s arms. Pei Zhi said, “Be good. Lean on me and rest for a bit.”
Out of selfishness, Pei Zhi did not pour ice water. He chose room-temperature water instead.
He held Xie Ning with one arm, took the glass with the other, and sat down on the edge of the bed, making the old iron frame creak again.
Xie Ning had just started to reach for the cup when Pei Zhi already brought it to his lips to feed him.
He went momentarily speechless. He had not lost the ability to take care of himself…
But in Pei Zhi’s eyes right now, he looked terribly fragile, like a patient who needed careful tending. He could not win against him, so he could only let Pei Zhi do as he pleased.
Pei Zhi fed Xie Ning water one sip at a time. After half the glass, he asked, “Feeling a little better?”
Xie Ning did not want any more. He turned his head away and closed his eyes. Only after a long pause did a faint breath of a reply come.
[Is it really that magical? I didn’t do anything. I just fed you water and held you for a while.]
[Even when wife cries, he’s still this beautiful.]
[So pitiful, so cute. Want to lick wife’s tears.]
[Fuck him.]
Pei Zhi asked, “Do you want a little more?”
Xie Ning said, “No need. Just let me lean on you for a while.”
He asked politely, “Is that okay?”
Just leaning on him for a little while—of course that was okay. The fingers at Pei Zhi’s side tightened involuntarily, but he answered calmly, “Okay.”
His expression remained composed. “It’s normal for friends to lean on each other or hug.”
That was true.
Among friends, slinging an arm over someone’s shoulders or hugging was completely normal. But those perfectly ordinary things had once been the very things Xie Ning found most impossible to accept.
Leaning against Pei Zhi, Xie Ning gave up resisting a little. Since they had already been holding each other for so long, a little longer would not make any difference. He might as well enjoy enough all at once.
Pei Zhi had taken off his coat and wore only a sleeveless undershirt. The muscles exposed beneath it were tight and clearly defined, full of strength.
Quietly, Xie Ning rubbed his cheek against Pei Zhi’s chest, nudging the collar of the undershirt lower.
That brief contact gave him an intensely strong sense of satisfaction. His lashes trembled, and a lazy, well-fed softness appeared at the corners of his brows.
How strange—it did not disgust him at all.
Xie Ning rubbed the other side of his face against Pei Zhi’s chest too.
Pei Zhi’s whole body stiffened.
Looking down at Xie Ning, he suddenly thought of a ragdoll cat his family kept. Many people said ragdolls were fairy cats—usually noble and aloof in appearance, but in truth very clingy.
And now, Xie Ning was slowly rubbing against his chest again and again, his long lashes casting obedient shadows beneath his eyes. It was clearly a clingy sort of behavior.
It was easy to tell that Xie Ning was being restrained about it, moving with a caution that seemed to think it would not be noticed. Sometimes he would even give a soft little sniff, as if checking whether there was any unpleasant smell on him.
Like a kitten that had gotten too much catnip, except there was a softness in Xie Ning’s brows and eyes that made him look utterly relaxed. His lashes kept trembling.
Pei Zhi only looked down at him, not daring even to breathe too loudly, as though he were afraid of startling him.
Xie Ning’s nose traveled from Pei Zhi’s chest to his collarbone, then up toward his neck. Suddenly, he paused. His face drew closer, and the tip of his small nose brushed Pei Zhi’s Adam’s apple.
All the muscles in Pei Zhi’s body tightened. His sensitive throat bobbed uncontrollably.
His nostrils flaring slightly, Xie Ning asked softly, “Did you shower?”
He was speaking from very close range. Every bit of breath that left his lips landed against Pei Zhi’s neck, raising goosebumps all over him.
Pei Zhi’s voice turned low and hoarse. He gave a quiet “Mm,” then asked, “Do I smell bad?”
“No,” Xie Ning said. “You smell very nice.”
The body wash Pei Zhi used seemed to be some long-standing domestic brand. By coincidence, it was the exact one Xie Ning had used as a child, back when his family had not been as well-off and there had not been many options.
Now that the family’s circumstances had improved, his parents always wanted to make it up to him, giving him the best and most expensive things in everything he ate, wore, and used.
Xie Ning’s mind drifted, his limbs growing soft from relaxation.
He had suppressed his skin hunger syndrome too harshly in the past, and now that he had suddenly received this much contact all at once, the overwhelming satisfaction made him feel almost floaty. His consciousness became hazy and diffuse, as though even his soul were starting to drift upward.
Closing his eyes again, Xie Ning pressed his face back into Pei Zhi’s chest.
The even rhythm of breath spilled onto his neck. His lips were glossy with moisture, and his cool, elegant features were tinted with a trace of color, stunning from any angle.
[Wife is so beautiful and so good, like a little cat.]
[But wife isn’t a little cat. Wife is wife. The one and only Ning Ning wife in the whole world.]
[Sneak in a little fuck.]
[…]
Inside the quiet break room, the only noise was the clamorous flood of thoughts.
Compared with the shock he had felt the first time he heard them, Xie Ning was already used to those thoughts now.
He even found them a little hypnotic.
Xie Ning did not like socializing, and he did not like making friends. He preferred being alone to regain his energy. Pei Zhi’s inner thoughts were such a stark contrast to his outward appearance that Xie Ning had gradually begun to pay attention to him, and in doing so, he had discovered that Pei Zhi was actually a very… interesting person.
And he really did not reject Pei Zhi’s touch either.
“What if one day your self-control stops working?”
Xie Ning suddenly thought of Shi Qingyu’s words.
Shi Qingyu was his doctor and also his friend. More than once, Shi Qingyu had suggested that he use social contact as a way to increase normal physical interaction, to experience and accept the safety and comfort brought by skin contact, to face physical touch directly until his symptoms gradually eased.
Xie Ning had arrogantly believed there would never be such a day.
But now, it seemed that day had already come.
Xie Ning had believed he could keep enduring forever. But today, when his skin hunger syndrome flared up, it came with a level of burning agitation he had never felt before.
He vaguely realized that he might no longer be able to suppress it the old way.
After the extreme discomfort came extreme comfort.
Pei Zhi’s body heat relaxed him completely. It was as if he were wrapped in a soft blanket, with music drifting beside his ear, his mind rising and falling along with the melody, free and unbound, until drowsiness began to creep in.
Unconsciously, Xie Ning rubbed his cheek against Pei Zhi’s chest again.
Real skin. Scalding body heat. A forceful, living heartbeat. The hormone-rich body of a young man.
It really was… perfect.
