After Transmigrating, I Raised Cubs in the Insectoid Clan - Chapter 24

When Suter removed the chip from the chest cavity of the robot Xiao Su, the metal surface still retained the residual warmth of its operation. With a slight application of force from his fingertips, the chip let out a faint, crackling wail in his palm before turning into a handful of cold, glimmering blue powder.

He casually scattered these electronic remains, letting them fall into the small, newly added flower pots by the windowsill.

Samuel had brought them back two days ago; the cheap plastic edges still bore price tags from the supermarket. Inside grew some unknown flowers Samuel had introduced to him, but he hadn’t taken them to heart. Beside them were several transparent plastic basins where the water reflected the dark, heavy sky outside. Suye fruit pits had been stripped clean and soaked in the water, waiting to sprout. In a further corner, a few strawberry seeds huddled within damp paper towels.

Suter stared down at them silently for a moment. After deleting Xiao Su’s records of tonight, he returned to his bedroom.

The bedroom was pitch black, the open crack of the door like a breached dam through which cold air and silence poured steadily. The abandoned pink octopus plushie lay limp under the bed, one tentacle still twisted in the position it landed in when thrown, resembling a pile of discarded, soft viscera. On the bed, the teddy bear sat quietly, its black button eyes glinting in the dark.

Suter collapsed onto the bed and tried to sleep, the mattress letting out a faint groan. Eventually, he reached down to retrieve the discarded octopus, wrapping its cold tentacles around himself like a wordless embrace, cocooning himself tightly.

Even so, sleep remained as elusive as escaping warmth, vanishing without a trace. The ceiling stretched out in the darkness; an endless night.

He stared for a while, then suddenly flung back the covers. Clutching his quilt and pillow, he stepped barefoot across the freezing floor toward the bedroom at the other end of the hallway.

There, there was Samuel’s breathing. There was warmth. There was light.

Samuel was sleeping deeply, his breathing long and steady, as if dragged into a fathomless dream by the medication. Everything in the room remained as Suter familiarly remembered it, except for a small night light on the bedside table identical to the one in his own room. The warm yellow halo floated slightly in the darkness, its hanging gold tassels swaying gently in the draft from the air conditioner.

Suter climbed onto the bed on tiptoe, his movements as light as a feather landing. He remembered to maintain a distance of a few centimeters from Samuel, because Samuel had told him they were still in the “dating” stage and could not lie in the same bed.

In the darkness, he turned onto his side, the fabric making a slight rustle. Samuel lay within arm’s reach. His sleeping posture was so orderly it was almost rigid: hands folded over his chest, motionless, like a body carefully arranged in a casket.

Suter curled up slightly, burying himself in the quilt and inhaling the faint lingering scent of laundry detergent. The shadows from the night light fell in fine patterns over his eyelashes as he used the dim light to unscrupulously study Samuel’s sleeping face.

His fingertips, like a beast patrolling its territory, traced over Samuel’s fingers and the bridge of his nose again and again, finally stopping on the trembling eyelashes as if to confirm that every inch of this body belonged to him.

Mine.

Suter’s fingertips roamed without restraint. He greedily traced Samuel’s silhouette, from the cool fingertips to the warm side of the neck, intent on branding his own mark upon every inch of skin.

Without realizing it, he had wound himself around Samuel like a vine. His knee forced its way between Samuel’s legs, and his arms clamped around the other’s waist like iron chains, the force so great it nearly threatened to leave bruises. His knuckles turned white from the exertion, leaving several reddened finger marks on Samuel’s waist.

This was not enough; it was far from enough.

He suddenly dragged the sleeping Samuel entirely into his arms, his movements crude and nearly tyrannical. Regardless of whether the other needed it, he stubbornly imitated the posture from his memories, his palm rhythmically patting Samuel’s back with inconsistent force.

Suter buried his head deep into the crook of Samuel’s neck, obsessively sniffing the light fragrance on him. It wasn’t the scent of pheromones, yet it was unexpectedly pleasant. His canines lightly brushed against that delicate skin, and the moment he felt the pulse throb, he suddenly increased the pressure and bit down.

“Mm…” Samuel let out a blurred whimper in his sleep, his eyelashes fluttering uneasily.

This reaction made Suter even more excited. Like tasting a delicacy, he repeatedly licked the reddening bite mark with the tip of his tongue. Moonlight leaked through the gap in the curtains, casting their overlapping shadows onto the wall. In the play of light and shadow, Suter looked like a dragon guarding its treasure.

“You are mine,” he murmured into Samuel’s ear, his voice carrying a distorted pleasure. As his fingertips brushed over the freshly made mark, a near-morbid sense of satisfaction exploded in his chest. He watched Samuel’s eyes, slightly reddened from discomfort, with fascination; he suddenly craved to see more expressions on that usually calm face caused by him.

Whether it was pain or pleasure, as long as it belonged exclusively to him, it was fine.

His gaze moved downward with physical weight, finally fixing on those pale lips. His Adam’s apple bobbed involuntarily, the strings of his reason snapping one by one amidst his scorching breath. Hesitating for only a heartbeat, he leaned down slowly like an ant lured by honey. At first, he only tentatively took that warm softness into his mouth, but then he abruptly increased the force, his canines grinding against the flesh of the lips.

A pained expression gradually appeared on Samuel’s face; his brows furrowed slightly, and a tiny tremor traveled from their pressed lips. Suter captured this trace of resistance amidst his chaotic possessiveness, and a spark of irritation suddenly flared in his heart. He did not like seeing such an expression of resistance.

This should not be Samuel’s expression at least, not the Samuel currently in his arms.

Backing away slightly, he placed his thumb over the furrowed brow. The skin beneath his thumb was warm and delicate. He lightened his touch, slowly rubbing the skin until the wrinkle was smoothed away. His cool fingertips lingered on the lingering redness at the corner of the eye, and he suddenly lowered his head to press a kiss as light as a feather onto that reddened skin.

“Don’t hide.”

He murmured as he held the man tighter, his nose brushing against the other’s burning earlobe. At this moment, every flutter of an eyelash and every irregularity in breath became fuel for his possessiveness. He pressed his lips once more to the pair he had ravaged into redness, his tongue gently tracing the shape of the lips with a tenderness that was almost devout.

—But his eyes betrayed him.

Moonlight leaked through the curtain gap, casting a deep shadow under Suter’s lowered lashes. He stared fixedly at Samuel’s trembling eyelids, his gaze like thick honey, slowly licking over the reddened corners of the eyes and the moist lips.

If he wakes up now…

The thought coiled around his heart like a venomous snake.

Would he push me away in terror?

What would he do?

If Samuel knew Suter had drugged him, then snuck into his bed in the middle of the night to force him into such a posture for a kiss.

What would he do?

Would he push me away in terror?

His breathing grew heavy. Suter backed off slightly, loosening his grip, only to clamp his hand even more forcefully around Samuel’s waist the next second. Amidst the rustle of sliding sheets, he leaned down to retrieve the down quilt.

He calmed down, readjusting their positions like a puppeteer arranging a pair of inseparable marionettes. When their shadows finally projected onto the wall in a lingering embrace once more, Suter stared at the distorted black silhouette and suddenly let out a low laugh.

How ridiculous. Even the moonlight cooperated with the performance, stretching this illusory shadow so long it could almost deceive even himself.

Body heat flowed between their pressed skin. Samuel’s breathing brushed against Suter’s collarbone—steady, yet unsettling. Suter closed his eyes, tightening his arms and gripping the other’s clothes.

Like a drowning man grasping at driftwood.

Outside the window, the last sliver of moonlight was swallowed by dark clouds. In the darkness, only the sound of two breaths remained intertwined.

When the morning sun spilled through the curtain gap, Samuel woke up on time, though he felt an unusual heaviness. Rubbing his temples, he forced himself to go to the bathroom to wash up.

Samuel stood before the bathroom mirror, his fingertips lightly touching his lower lip. The person in the mirror had slightly swollen eyelids, and a suspicious faint bite mark remained at the corner of his mouth; everything seemed almost normal. That is, if one ignored the faint throbbing pain in his lips and the red mark on his neck—not broken, yet as vivid as a brand.

Samuel stood silently before the mirror for a while.

After washing and changing into a new outfit, Samuel went to the living room and ran into Xiao Su, who had hurried over to show off its new clothes.

“Samuel, look at my new clothes!”

Xiao Su’s rounded body slid nimbly to his feet, its transparent casing projecting an exaggerated peony pattern. Those gaudy, bright red flowers bloomed on the metal surface, swaying as Xiao Su spun around, looking exactly like an antique vase scavenged from a flea market.

Samuel crouched down, tapping lightly on the control panel.

“Let me guess,” his mouth quirked upward. “Another skin library Suter downloaded for you?”

The screen displayed a staggering number—exactly 370,000 images. At a frequency of one change per day, it was enough to last until the little robot retired.

The kitchen door was pushed open, and the aroma of porridge drifted out along with the steam. When Suter walked out carrying a porcelain bowl, he saw Samuel focused on selecting images according to Xiao Su’s requests. Suter’s steps paused slightly; his gaze lingered for a split second on the exposed patch of fair skin on the back of Samuel’s neck before quickly moving away.

By the time Suter reappeared, Xiao Su had turned into a charmingly naive electronic shark. Its rounded body, paired with sharp electronic teeth, was using its mechanical arm to curiously poke its cyber “fin,” letting out “gig-gig-gig” electronic laughter.

“You downloaded this for him?” Samuel pulled out a dining chair, asking in a seemingly casual tone.

“Yes,” Suter replied, setting down the bowl of porridge.

Xiao Su suddenly bumped into Samuel’s slipper with a soft “thud.” Samuel good-naturedly stopped Suter’s foot from kicking the robot away, pushing Xiao Su in another direction to see if there was anything that needed cleaning.

He then followed Suter into the kitchen to help bring out the bowls, chopsticks, and spoons.

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