After The Beautiful Woman Moves Into The Jock's Dorm Room - Chapter 6

Chapter 6: Taking a Shower – “…Could you help me with something?…”

As soon as Song Yu finished speaking, he grabbed his books and left. It didn’t look like he was heading to the library.

Shen Qingyu suddenly remembered that every dorm building had a study room, and figured Song Yu might have gone there to study.

Cheng Che hadn’t clearly heard what Song Yu said. He frowned and asked, “What did he say?”

After sharing a dorm with Song Yu for more than half a year, they rarely exchanged words.

Before Shen Qingyu moved in, Cheng Che’s relationship with Lu Xiao was actually better. As for Song Yu, he was always a solitary figure, and Cheng Che only knew his basic information.

For some reason, Cheng Che felt a strong sense of crisis, as if a huge threat was lurking in the room.

Shen Qingyu’s expression was dull. He was a little unsure if he had heard wrong. After all, he had barely talked to Song Yu, so Song Yu surely wouldn’t have called him a “liar,” right?

Before lights-out, Shen Qingyu deliberately took a painkiller, which allowed him to fall into a stable, deep sleep.

He slept sweetly. In his dream, it seemed someone was grasping his uninjured foot with an ice-cold hand. The feeling of restraint made him uncomfortable. He lifted his leg to kick but lifted his injured foot along with it. The faint pain, despite the painkillers, was very present, so he obediently put his leg back down.

Then came the unrestrained touching.

His relaxed calf was soft, easily gripped by one hand, which then slowly slid down. It paused for just a few seconds upon reaching the hard bone of his ankle, as if something more appealing lay below.

A cool, slightly damp sensation adhered to the top of his foot, like a snake coiling around it, impossible to shake off.

Shen Qingyu let out a muffled groan of distress in his sleep. It was a terrifying dream. He struggled to wake up but could only let the cold hand toy with his every toe.

“So itchy…” Shen Qingyu whimpered.

The movement stopped. Seeing no sign of Shen Qingyu waking up, the hand became more audacious.

“Stop…”

The next second, the uncomfortable feeling scattered and retreated like a receding tide. He let out a long sigh in his sleep and drifted off to slumber once more.

…

Lu Xiao, who usually slept soundly, was strangely awakened that night by Shen Qingyu’s “sleep talk.” He folded his hands behind his neck, his sharp gaze slicing toward Bunk 4 across the room.

He wondered how Shen Qingyu managed to sleep. The curtain was rolled up at one corner. The person in bed was lying on his side facing outward, his face pressed into the pillowcase, his hair messy, and his lips slightly pouted.

Can’t even sleep peacefully. Who is he trying to seduce now?

Lu Xiao scoffed at his clumsy seduction, pushed back his quilt, and went to the bathroom to relieve himself.

The moment the bathroom light came on, Shen Qingyu seemed to sense the light, letting out a low grunt of dissatisfaction. Lu Xiao cursed inwardly: “Can’t even be quiet when he’s asleep.”

He turned the light off with his backhand and entered the bathroom in the dark. After washing his hands and shaking them dry, he realized something was wrong.

—Wait, why the hell should I accommodate him?

The bathroom was near Bunk 4. On his way out, he walked past Shen Qingyu without glancing, but after hearing his steady breathing, he couldn’t resist turning his head.

Lu Xiao was 188 cm tall, much taller than the bed frame even when standing by it. He rested one hand on the bed ladder. The surface felt soft. He remembered Shen Qingyu bouncing around putting anti-slip strips on the ladder a few days ago. That image was laughable.

Spoiled, demanding fuss-pot.

Lu Xiao cursed silently.

Thinking this, Lu Xiao couldn’t resist reaching out and pinching his cheek.

Shen Qingyu’s skin could only be described as “smooth and tender.” Lu Xiao had never thought he would use that word to describe a man.

Looks like his pile of skincare products isn’t going to waste.

Lu Xiao lifted his leg to leave, accidentally brushing off Shen Qingyu’s shirt hanging nearby.

The shirt floated lightly to the floor. Lu Xiao gave a tsk sound and bent down to pick it up. Before he could throw the shirt at Shen Qingyu’s face, he suddenly caught a tempting fragrance.

His brows furrowed. Lu Xiao rigidly lowered his head, realizing the fragrance was coming from the shirt in his hand.

A look of disgust flashed in his eyes, yet he uncontrollably brought the shirt to his face and… buried his nose in it.

The delicate scent of rose, blended with cool cedar, wafted into his nostrils.

His pupils dilated. Lu Xiao, who never trembled while lifting weights in the gym, found his arm shaking upon smelling this fragrance.

He fled in a panic.

…

The next day, Shen Qingyu woke up early. He touched his reddened cheek, confused as to why he had such a dream.

Dreaming about someone playing with my feet… that’s too perverted, isn’t it?

Since it was the weekend, Shen Qingyu didn’t have to worry about the bothersome issue of getting to class.

Apart from eating, Shen Qingyu spent the entire day in bed.

Even fetching takeout was done by Cheng Che. Shen Qingyu thanked him and shared his favorite Stir-fried Beef with Yellow Peppers with him.

Cheng Che couldn’t handle spicy food well, but since Shen Qingyu personally shared it with a spoon, he bravely ate it, frantically drinking ice water and eating rice just to finish the small dish.

This level of spice was nothing to Shen Qingyu, so he hadn’t realized that someone could actually sweat from eating this dish.

Shen Qingyu felt a little guilty. He propped his arm on the desk, reaching out to wipe Cheng Che’s sweat.

“I didn’t know you couldn’t eat spicy food. Why did you force yourself?”

Cheng Che uncontrollably gasped and hissed twice, perhaps from the spice, or perhaps from the shock of Shen Qingyu’s proactive “dedication.”

“I’ll get used to it if I eat it a few more times.”

Shen Qingyu chuckled, his slender, dense eyelashes fluttering. “It really is delicious, though, right?”

Cheng Che didn’t taste anything delicious, only the chili. “Yes, it’s delicious.”

“I’m curious, do you ask for sugar in your Mala Tang (Sichuan Spicy Hot Pot) or something?”

“Of course! Mala Tang loses its soul without sugar.”

Shen Qingyu was horrified.

Cheng Che quickly corrected himself: “Next time I’ll try it without sugar. Maybe my taste will change.”

After dinner, Cheng Che went out. Shen Qingyu knew he had a habit of jogging in the evening.

After sharing a room for a while, Shen Qingyu had figured out his three roommates’ routines. Lu Xiao liked to exercise, but getting him up early was impossible. His sleep quality was so good that he’d sleep soundly even if someone beat a gong next to his ear. Song Yu had the routine of an old cadre—early to bed, early to rise. He would go for a morning run, eat breakfast, and then go to the library. As for Cheng Che, his schedule was similar to his own; he’d sleep in when there were no early classes, and they often chatted on their phones until they fell asleep in the evenings.

Looking at it this way, Cheng Che was clearly more compatible with him, in every aspect.

It was almost lights-out, and Cheng Che still hadn’t returned. Shen Qingyu paced anxiously, limping slightly because his ankle was still swollen.

Lu Xiao was playing a game, lounging on his gaming chair like a king with his legs up. When he looked up, he saw Shen Qingyu flickering back and forth. Since Shen Qingyu was already thin, in Lu Xiao’s eyes, he looked like a paper person floating past.

He was startled.

Lu Xiao said in a coarse voice: “Can you stop moving around so much?”

Lu Xiao hadn’t been friendly to him since morning. Shen Qingyu didn’t know what he had done to provoke him and even suspected that Lu Xiao might have overheard his sleep talk last night. But then he thought, given Lu Xiao’s sleep quality, he probably couldn’t wake him up even if he screamed his lungs out.

Shen Qingyu stubbornly turned away from him.

If Cheng Che didn’t come back soon, he would have to shower alone…

Shen Qingyu lowered his head to look at his ankle. If I’m careful, maybe it’ll be fine? But what if I slip and fall? Will the injury get worse?

Clutching a soft bath towel and a change of pajamas, Shen Qingyu hopped to the bathroom. Just in case, before locking the door, he deliberately called out: “I’m going to take a shower. Does anyone need to use the bathroom?”

No one responded.

The dorm door was pushed open. Shen Qingyu looked over in surprise, thinking it was Cheng Che returning, but the person who walked in was Song Yu.

Song Yu calmly took in Shen Qingyu’s “face-changing” expression.

“Is something wrong?” Song Yu spoke lightly.

Shen Qingyu plucked up his courage: “…Could you help me with something?”

“?”

“I want to shower, but my ankle can’t touch water…” Shen Qingyu mumbled hesitantly. “Could you help me?”

The expression behind Song Yu’s glasses changed, becoming unusually uncontrolled: “What?”

Shen Qingyu realized he might have been presumptuous. He gave a dry laugh, trying to gloss over it: “Nothing.”

“Okay.” But Song Yu agreed.

Now it was Shen Qingyu’s turn to be shocked. He almost choked on his own saliva, clearing his throat a few times, and opened the door wide, his movements somewhat constrained.

In Song Yu’s eyes, this was tantamount to walking right into a trap.

How naive. Song Yu thought darkly. Such a simple Yu-baby can only belong to me.

“How do you need me to help?”

Shen Qingyu looked at him with gratitude, feeling that his previous impression of Song Yu might have been wrong. He was actually very warm-hearted.

“Could you hold me steady? But you might get wet,” Shen Qingyu said awkwardly.

“Mm.” Song Yu calmly nodded.

The shower curtain was drawn. Shen Qingyu’s nude body was vaguely visible to Song Yu.

Although Shen Qingyu was gay, he didn’t assume everyone was like him. When he was in high school, the school had communal showers, and everyone was exposed. He was uncomfortable at first, but over time he got used to it. After all, everyone was built the same way; at most, there was a slight difference in size.

With his back to Song Yu, Shen Qingyu slowly removed his clothes.

In his blind spot, Song Yu firmly braced one hand against the bathroom tiles. The smooth muscle lines on his arm instantly flexed, the bulging veins shocking to see. His abdomen tightened. He used a greedy gaze to trace the contours of Shen Qingyu’s body from top to bottom.

Too perfect.

His throat was dry. Song Yu’s Adam’s apple bobbed up and down. The rising temperature in the bathroom made him feel hot, desperate for something to extinguish this raging fire.

Such pale, tender skin. If only I could leave my own marks on it.

Shen Qingyu’s skin was so fair and tender, it was no exaggeration to say it was like a peeled egg. It was like a pure white canvas, waiting for an artist to sketch his shape onto it.

He truly didn’t know how tempting he was, daring to let him stand behind him… watching him shower.

Song Yu curled his lips, a naked flame flashing in his eyes. He wouldn’t need to pull hard to tear down that shower curtain, then pin Shen Qingyu against the wall… letting the warm water flow into his mouth, into his body. He wouldn’t be able to escape, only stare at the ceiling with unfocused eyes.

How pathetic. Song Yu thought, licking his lips.

…

“I’m done. Thank you.” Perhaps the temperature in the bathroom was too high. Song Yu’s breathing became heavy. Shen Qingyu wrapped himself in the towel with shame.

“Mm.”

Song Yu’s sleeves were soaked and clung to his arm. His trouser cuffs were also splashed with water, something that couldn’t be avoided no matter how careful Shen Qingyu was.

Song Yu supported Shen Qingyu to the mirror, watching him calmly blow-dry his hair. Not a single trace of water was allowed. If he hadn’t fully dried it, Song Yu would have stood there like a wall, unmoving. Shen Qingyu couldn’t guess his thoughts, so he meticulously dried his hair completely. Only then did Song Yu take half a step back.

Still slightly damp, Shen Qingyu lay back down on his bed with Song Yu’s help. He felt so ashamed thinking that he had just let a roommate with whom he barely spoke or interacted help him shower… That’s too embarrassing!

Though I had the shower curtain. Shen Qingyu reasoned with himself.

And given Song Yu’s “indifferent” personality towards other people and things, supporting him while he showered was probably no different from supporting a piece of pork belly while it was being washed, right?

Well, maybe there is a slight difference. Shen Qingyu thought secretly. His figure is still better than pork belly, even though pork belly is smellier and more tempting.