Monster Cub Live Stream – CH53

Chapter 53

Feng Wu’s pupils contracted sharply.

Like? Like what?

Did he mean he liked that Feng Wu was handsome, or… or did he mean he liked him?

The boy’s palm rested against the side of his face. Perhaps because of the alcohol, that soft palm felt slightly warm.

Feng Wu could feel that warmth spreading from the skin where they touched, slowly staining his face as well.

“How can there be… be someone this good-looking…” Lin An’an murmured drunkenly. His eyes seemed filled with spring water, and the flush on his fair cheeks looked as though it had been dyed there by the evening glow—beautiful beyond words.

Feng Wu pressed his lips together. Reason told him he should step back and widen the distance between them, but he found he couldn’t do it.

Maybe it was the alcohol, but his emotions were surging more violently than usual.

Want to get closer to him. Want to be even closer. Want to hold him, kiss him…

That voice kept looping in his mind, making him hold his breath so his uneven breathing would not betray what he was feeling.

Lin An’an’s hand brushed past Feng Wu’s earlobe, and as if he had discovered something amusing, he poked the ear that was already red enough to drip blood, then pinched it lightly between two fingers.

“So soft…” he mumbled. After playing with it for a while in great interest, his fingers slowly slid to Feng Wu’s brow bone and landed on the somewhat vicious-looking scar there.

“Did it hurt?” he asked.

Feng Wu tilted his head up to look at him and saw the concern and heartache in the boy’s eyes. Moonlight from outside the window fell softly across his face. That expression…

Feng Wu swallowed. All he could hear was the pounding of his own heartbeat in his chest; the rest of the world had almost gone silent.

Lin An’an pouted. “Did it… bleed a lot?”

His warm, soft fingertips traced gently along the scar. The touch was as light as thin silk brushing against him, and the faint ticklishness made Feng Wu feel as if even his heart had begun to itch.

“Yes,” Feng Wu said, his Adam’s apple moving slightly. When he heard his own voice, it was hoarse. “It hurt badly, but now it doesn’t—careful!”

Before he could finish, the boy in front of him suddenly bent forward, but because of the alcohol he couldn’t steady himself and nearly pitched straight off the bed.

Feng Wu caught him just in time and helped him sit upright again.

Lin An’an shook his head dizzily and muttered in confusion, “My head feels so heavy… Wolf Bro, am I running a fever?”

“You’re not running a fever. You’re just drunk,” Feng Wu explained patiently.

“I’m not—drunk!” Lin An’an suddenly raised his voice. Puffing up with indignation, he grabbed Feng Wu’s wrist and pulled that much larger hand toward himself. “Touch me—check if I’m burning up!”

Lin An’an dragged Feng Wu’s hand to his cheek. Feng Wu’s fingers instinctively curled, and the next second, a softness that didn’t belong to him pressed against his skin.

Very soft. And indeed a little hot.

Lin An’an pressed him again, “Is it hot? Am I running a fever?”

Feng Wu said, “…It is a little hot.”

Hearing that answer, Lin An’an looked smug, as though he had just won an argument. “See? I told you I have a fever!”

“Mm,” Feng Wu humored him. “You have a fever, so you should properly—” rest.

But before he could finish, Lin An’an interrupted him again. “Wolf Bro, come closer. I can’t see you clearly.”

“An’an, you need rest.” Even as he said that, Feng Wu still obediently leaned in a little.

“Later,” Lin An’an mumbled. “Not close enough. Closer.”

Helplessly, Feng Wu leaned in again.

Lin An’an frowned, dissatisfied. “Still not enough…”

As he spoke, he suddenly lifted both hands, cupped Feng Wu’s head, and pulled him directly in front of him.

Feng Wu lost his balance for a moment. He hurriedly braced both arms on either side of Lin An’an’s body, steadying himself before he could collapse onto the boy.

“An’an—”

His voice cut off abruptly. Feng Wu’s breath caught as he stared at the face magnified before him, his heartbeat skipping wildly out of rhythm.

Too close, he thought.

At this distance… it was dangerous.

Lin An’an’s fingers were still tracing the scar at his brow bone. After a moment, he leaned forward and blew gently on it a few times.

Feng Wu parted his lips. “…What are you doing?”

“Blowing on it for you.” Lin An’an looked very serious. “When you’re hurt, it hurts. If I blow on it, it won’t hurt anymore.”

Feng Wu said, “It doesn’t hurt anymore now—”

He was interrupted yet again, but this time, what stopped him was the soft, warm touch landing on his scar.

Lin An’an seemed unusually attached to that scar. He kissed from the top of it to the tail end, one kiss after another, gentle and lingering, his breath still carrying the rich grape scent of the fruit wine.

Feng Wu didn’t dare move. His heart was beating so violently that it almost hurt, as though his chest might burst open at any second.

He wanted to pull away, yet he didn’t want to. He wanted to move closer still, yet he didn’t dare do anything at all.

All he could do was remain rigid in that posture, while the hands braced on the mattress clenched so hard that the bedsheets bunched into deep wrinkles and the knuckles turned pale.

Feng Wu closed his eyes, letting himself feel the boy’s kisses lingering over his brow.

He didn’t know how much time passed before that warm, tender softness finally withdrew.

Feng Wu couldn’t even describe what he felt at that moment—part relief that Lin An’an had moved away, part regret that he had stopped.

Then, all at once, something warm and damp landed on his lips.

Feng Wu’s eyes flew open. He met the boy’s dark, misty gaze. Those blurred drunken eyes reflected his face, but the shock in Feng Wu’s golden eyes was unmistakably clear.

Lin An’an kissed him, then leaned back slightly.

He licked his lips, apparently feeling that once wasn’t enough, and leaned forward again.

This time the kiss was firmer than before, and it even came with a bright, ringing little sound: “Mwah~”

Only after Lin An’an leaned back against the pillows again did Feng Wu finally recover his voice.

Swallowing hard, and using more self-control than he had ever exerted in his life to keep from chasing after that kiss, Feng Wu said, “An’an—”

His breathing was heavier now, his voice rough beyond recognition. “Do you know what you’re doing?”

“Of course I do.” Lin An’an curved his eyes, touched his own lips, and smiled like a little cat that had successfully stolen cream. “I’m kissing you!”

Feng Wu’s grip on the sheets tightened further. “Do you know who I am? Do you know… do you know who it is you’re kissing?”

As though the question amused him, Lin An’an suddenly burst into laughter.

He reached up again, cupped Feng Wu’s cheek, leaned in, and kissed him once more. This time, before pulling away, he even opened his mouth and gave him a childish little bite.

“You’re Wolf Bro. You’re Feng Wu.” Lin An’an enunciated every word with utmost seriousness. “I’m kissing Wolf Bro. Lin An’an is kissing Feng Wu!”

Before Feng Wu could react, Lin An’an leaned in again on his own.

But this time he did not kiss him. Instead, he rested his head on Feng Wu’s shoulder, his voice turning soft and unfocused. “Wolf Bro, my head feels so dizzy…”

The boy rubbed aimlessly against the hollow of his shoulder. With that slight nasal tone, he sounded almost like he was acting spoiled.

“It feels awful,” Lin An’an grumbled. “Wolf Bro, help me. I don’t want to be dizzy. I don’t want to feel this bad.”

Feng Wu closed his eyes and drew in a deep breath. When he opened them again, he had pushed all that overwhelming emotion deep into the bottom of his pupils.

“Drink some hangover soup first.” Feng Wu pressed down the restless boy with one hand and guided him back against the headboard, then brought over the bowl of hangover soup from the bedside.

Perhaps because he truly felt miserable now, Lin An’an did not refuse this time. He obediently drank it down one mouthful after another.

Feng Wu took the empty bowl back out to the kitchen.

The meal outside had not yet ended. Seeing Feng Wu come out of the room, Xiong Yingjun—who was still eating with great enthusiasm—asked, “How’s An’an?”

“He’s already asleep,” Feng Wu replied.

“He really can’t hold his liquor at all, hahahaha!” Xiong Yingjun laughed loudly, then seemed to notice something and asked, “Boss, why is your voice hoarse? And your face is so red too. Did you get drunk as well?”

Feng Wu turned his face away and ignored him, heading straight back to the room.

Xiong Yingjun scratched his head in confusion. “What’s gotten into him?”

Si Youlin tugged at his sleeve and said, “Don’t ask what you shouldn’t. Just eat your food.”

When Lin An’an woke the next morning, he rubbed his still-muddled head and the first thing he did after getting up was go to the bathroom and wash up.

The other bed in the room was as neat as ever, looking as though no one had slept in it at all.

But Lin An’an knew Feng Wu always had the habit of making the bed the moment he got up.

After his wash, Lin An’an finally felt much fresher, and the heaviness in his head seemed to have eased a little.

Just as he pushed open the bathroom door and stepped out, the bedroom door was opened from the outside at the same moment.

Lin An’an looked up and, unsurprisingly, met a familiar pair of golden eyes.

Feng Wu held a kettle in one hand and a tray in the other. On the tray sat a bowl of millet porridge and a plate of fruit cut into small pieces.

Lin An’an clearly saw that the moment their gazes met, Feng Wu’s ears reddened at a speed visible to the naked eye.

Lin An’an wanted to laugh, but he managed to hold it in.

Feng Wu set the kettle and tray on the table. His eyes flicked over Lin An’an’s body once, then quickly shifted away again.

“How are you feeling?” he asked. “Does your head still hurt?”

“It doesn’t hurt anymore.” Lin An’an shook his head. “I’m just hungry.”

He dried his hair haphazardly with a towel, then sat down on the edge of the bed and accepted the cup Feng Wu handed him.

“The millet porridge is still a little hot,” Feng Wu said. “Drink some warm water first to soothe your throat.”

Lin An’an nodded obediently, watching Feng Wu stir the porridge gently as if trying to help it cool faster.

Perhaps noticing that Lin An’an was looking at him, Feng Wu lifted his eyes and looked back.

“You…” He opened his mouth as if he wanted to say something, but after hesitating for a moment, he still said nothing.

Lin An’an blinked. “What is it?”

Feng Wu lowered his eyes again, then after a while raised them once more. “You… do you still remember last night…”

“Last night?” Lin An’an smiled a little sheepishly. “I got drunk last night. I must have caused Wolf Bro a lot of trouble, right?”

Feng Wu’s voice caught. “You don’t remember?”

Lin An’an looked blank. “Remember what?”

Feng Wu closed his eyes briefly. A flash of disappointment crossed his usually calm face.

That expression made him look exactly like a big dog that had been neglected. Lin An’an could practically imagine the tail behind him drooping straight to the floor.

He burst out laughing. “What do you want me to remember?”

Feng Wu pressed his lips together.

“Remember that I said you were handsome? Remember that I asked whether it hurt? Or…”

Lin An’an suddenly leaned forward and planted a loud kiss right on Feng Wu’s lips.

“Or remember that I kissed you like this?”

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