Chapter 45: It's So Cold, A-Yan

The hands were clasped for too long, exchanging warmth until it gradually became impossible to tell whose fingers were trembling slightly.

Someone had to break this atmosphere. Cheng Ran abruptly stood up, unceremoniously shoving aside Yan Zhuo, and pulled Qu Yan’s wheelchair back a step. "What were you spacing out for, Captain Yan? Time is life. Follow me, everyone, our boss is waiting."

He retracted his canine teeth and put on a stern face, as though holding an inexplicable hostility toward Yan Zhuo.

"Brother Qu, leave these matters to me. Go back and rest first, alright?" Cheng Ran then lowered his head to say to Qu Yan. Clearly possessed of the appearance of a pampered young master, the gaze he cast upon Qu Yan was nevertheless ingratiating.

Anyone could tell that his relationship with Qu Yan was extraordinary.

Chen Yuning subconsciously looked at Yan Zhuo, only to catch sight of half his profile exposed beneath his cap, utterly cold and indifferent, as if entirely unconcerned with everything unfolding before them.

Since Cheng Ran claimed he would handle it, he handled it. Upon entering the Yueshan Base, Qu Yan turned down a path leading in the opposite direction from theirs.

The bespectacled young man possessed a gossipy nature. Intentionally slowing his pace to fall to the rear of the group, he sidled up to Chen Yuning and whispered, "Was that person just now the captain's taboo? I can't believe he's actually not dead. I always thought that rumor was just the captain comforting himself."

"Shut your mouth!" Chen Yuning looked ahead nervously. "If the captain hears you, you're finished."

The bespectacled youth whistled twice and said carelessly, "What's there to be afraid of? Just an old flame. Besides, I didn't see the captain react all that much just now."

Chen Yuning offered two dry laughs and said no more, thinking to himself, *What do you know? Not reacting much is the biggest reaction of all.*

Qu Yan had originally been in charge of logistics when he first arrived at the Yueshan Base. With his recent shift in duties, these tasks needed to be handed over to others, but logistics work was far from simple; it was tedious and trivial. Merely organizing the documents and files took two full days. By the time he delivered the materials to the archive room and headed back, the sky had already darkened.

This year's winter was longer than usual, the biting wind and driving snow nearly incessant. Qu Yan refused the kind offers of others, wheeling himself back on his own. Before he had gone far, his exposed hands were chilled stiff. He clenched his fists to alleviate the numbness, only to recall the warmth of Yan Zhuo's palm that afternoon.

It had been just as cold.

It was hard to say which was colder.

His residence was located in a secluded area—a modest apartment where few people ever came to disturb him. A cold draft slipped through the gaps in the door. Qu Yan closed the door behind him and took off his coat.

His entire body was chilled; what he needed most right now was a hot shower.

The bedroom door, which should have been tightly shut, stood ajar by a sliver, the interior pitch black. Qu Yan paused at the threshold, his brow furrowing almost imperceptibly.

He shoved the door open, the darkness of the bedroom and the light of the corridor forming a sharply defined boundary line.

"Who's in there?"

No one answered. A faint, subtle movement came from within. Qu Yan saw a figure step out of the shadows toward him, and before he could utter a sound, he was scooped up by the waist.

The world spun violently as he was heavily tossed onto the large bed, the cry of alarm on his lips blocked right back inside.

A fierce and passionate kiss seemed intent on robbing him of every breath of air in his vicinity. The glasses on the bridge of his nose were on the verge of falling off before being impatiently swatted away. Qu Yan’s wrists were crossed and pinned high above his head, his weak calves utterly powerless to resist.

His lips and tongue were captured, a much-too-familiar scent saturating his senses. His body grew hotter and hotter, the sensation of oxygen deprivation plunging his mind into chaos.

*Thud.*

Something was knocked over, landing softly on the carpet with a dull sound.

Qu Yan snapped back to sobriety. The sharp edge of his teeth bit down fiercely on the marauding tongue inside his mouth, the taste of blood instantly flooding his oral cavity, finally bringing an end to this un-kiss-like kiss.

Struggling, he propped up his upper body, used one hand to turn on the bedside lamp, and demanded, "How did you get in?"

Yan Zhuo loomed over him, casting a small shadow from the bridge of his nose; under the lamplight, his facial features appeared deep and striking. "Is that all Ah-Yan wants to ask me?"

The Yan Zhuo before him had changed immensely compared to two years ago. Not only had his appearance matured significantly, but his aura had also become far more oppressive. Qu Yan met his gaze, for a fleeting second feeling the urge to turn and flee in panic.

His fingers brushed against the button that had popped off his clothes during the struggle. Staring into Yan Zhuo's eyes, he retorted, "What else should I ask?"

"Ask if I've missed you... or ask how I got through these past two years without you..." Yan Zhuo obligingly provided answers for Qu Yan, though his hands were far from well-behaved, sliding under the hem of Qu Yan's shirt to press flat against his waist.

The night wind howled, as though some monster lurked outside the window.

Qu Yan felt something wrap around his leg—tight and powerful.

With a delayed reaction, he realized it was Yan Zhuo's wolf tail.

Yan Zhuo leaned down, his tone pitiful as he said, "It's so cold, Ah-Yan."

Anyone unaware of the truth might mistake those words for coquettish whining.

Only Qu Yan knew better. Yan Zhuo's pupils were dark and deep, suppressing a resentment potent enough to make anyone shudder.

His chin was brushed by a very light kiss, and Qu Yan heard Yan Zhuo ask, "Why did you throw me away?"

The hand slipped further beneath Qu Yan's shirt, moving slowly. Yan Zhuo did not expect an answer from Qu Yan; to a certain degree, that answer was already completely unimportant.

His fingers paused over Qu Yan's protruding ribs as he murmured softly, "So thin."

The wolf tail grew agitated with its master's mood, lashing against Qu Yan's thigh rhythmically.

Abruptly lowering his head, Yan Zhuo bit down on Qu Yan's earlobe, the tongue that had just shared a kiss still damp and scorching.

An ambiguous sound echoed in the bedroom.

Qu Yan's ear quickly grew hot and damp, the sound of licking right against his ear canal making him shiver uncontrollably. His voice softened, losing its previous composure. "Yan Zhuo, let's talk."

"Ah-Yan, don't speak, alright?" Yan Zhuo's tone could be described as gentle, yet he unbuttoned Qu Yan's shirt with undeniable insistence.

Garments were tossed onto the floor one by one, the carpet gradually growing cluttered.

"Yan Zhuo!"

Everything was spiraling toward a loss of control. Qu Yan raised his volume in an attempt to stop him, but two years had passed, and Yan Zhuo was long past being that obedient little wolf.

Instead of halting, he forced Qu Yan's chin upward, his dangerous, sharp teeth grinding against Qu Yan's Adam's apple. His voice was low and hoarse, tinged with a trace of a smile. "Is that Cheng Ran your new plaything? Have you kissed him the way you toyed with me?"

Qu Yan's pupils dilated. He shook his head, the stray locks of hair across his forehead swaying with the motion. "No..."

Turning a blind eye to his denial, Yan Zhuo stroked Qu Yan's occasionally trembling abdomen. A fierce look was tainted with jealousy, bordering on madness. "How is he worthy of being your dog? Ah-Yan, having me as your only dog is enough."

Qu Yan was flipped over, his chin slamming against the soft mattress. With his vision blurred, he was forced to arch his waist without any leeway to move, able only to feel Yan Zhuo's arm encircling his hips. A palm slid downward in an erotic motion, tracing slowly along his spine.

Qu Yan breathed heavily, twisting his body in an attempt to escape, but it was merely a futile struggle. An angry sound slipped past his throat. "Let me go..."

Having already been thoroughly worn out, the anger in his voice emerged thin and reedy. Yan Zhuo gripped his powerless ankle tightly, biting down on that stretch of pale skin before running the tip of his tongue around the mark.

There should have been no sensation left, yet as Qu Yan lay face down on the bed and caught sight of Yan Zhuo's movements out of the corner of his eye, he felt his entire lower leg burn as if set ablaze.

Watching his reaction, Yan Zhuo pressed a hand against the back of his neck, breathing out excitedly, "Ah-Yan, I'm ready."

Qu Yan could no longer hear what he was saying. He felt as though he had plunged into a pool of warm water, his brain momentarily losing the capacity for thought.

Something clattered loudly, bouncing a few times on the bed, and a box even struck him right in the face.

A slight sting grazed his cheek. His breathing stalled as he forced his eyes open to look.

The warm-toned lighting cast a dim glow, illuminating the objects resting not far from him: a bottle of lubricant inside... and what was inside the box...

Qu Yan's mind went blank, his expression a mix of bewilderment and shock. "Why... why do you carry these things around with you?"

His eyelashes fluttered like landing butterflies. Yan Zhuo let out a soft sigh. "Every word I've said counts. Rest assured, Ah-Yan, I won't let you hurt."