Help, My Buff Roommate is Begging to Touch my Abs - Chapter 16

Chapter 16: Getting Sick

“Boss, that mid-range jumper just now was way too cool! You made that grandson on the other side eat dirt for several rounds!”

“Old Third, your rebounding wasn’t bad either. The boss missed a couple of shots occasionally, but you were there to grab them and put them back in.”

The eldest, the second, and Zhao Yuheng, the three of them carrying basketballs came up from the stairwell, drenched in sweat.

Their voices were loud and resonant as they continued to replay the highlights of the game they had just finished with lingering excitement.

“Old Second, next time that dog-son-of-a-bitch dares to intentionally bump into you, just move aside and let me hit him. See if I don’t crush him to death!”

Zhao Yuheng spoke fiercely while wiping sweat from his neck, completely failing to notice the abnormality in the dormitory.

The dormitory door was pushed open, and the clamor instantly filled the room.

Jin Bao’er was curled up in the corner of his bed against the wall, his hand still clutching a burning-hot phone.

The screen displayed a document interface, but his eyelids were as heavy as lead weights.

Zhao Yuheng walked straight to the side of his own bed.

He tossed his jersey onto the bed with a casual flick, sending a wave of sweat-scented heat into the air.

As he bent over to take off his shoes, his gaze inadvertently swept over Jin Bao’er, and his movements came to an abrupt halt.

“Jin Bao’er?”

Zhao Yuheng frowned. Why was this kid curled into a ball?

His face was as red as a cooked shrimp, and his breathing was as heavy as a bellows.

“Jin Bao’er, what’s wrong with you?”

Zhao Yuheng set down the washbasin he had just picked up and strode over.

His rough, large hand covered Jin Bao’er’s forehead without warning.

“Holy shit!”

A low curse sounded exceptionally clear in the quiet dormitory.

Hot.

Startlingly hot.

It felt like touching a piece of red-hot coal.

Jin Bao’er recoiled slightly, stimulated by this sudden coolness.

Struggling to open his eyes, he saw Zhao Yuheng’s handsome face filled with anxiety. His voice was as raspy as if it had been rubbed by sandpaper.

“Brother Heng… dizzy…”

Before he could finish, his head tilted to the side, his phone fell onto the quilt with a “clack,” and he had completely fallen into a deep, unconscious sleep.

…

An unknown amount of time passed before Jin Bao’er felt a hint of coolness amidst the chaotic heat.

It was a very comfortable sensation, like a person dying of thirst in a desert finally getting a sip of spring water.

“Jin Bao’er… wake up… Jin Bao’er…”

A familiar voice reached his ears, carrying an undetectable hint of trembling and anxiety.

Jin Bao’er struggled to open his eyes, but his eyelids were stuck together.

He felt himself being carefully propped up, his back resting against a broad, warm chest.

A large hand gently supported the back of his burning head.

The finger pads were a bit rough, yet they stroked his cheek with gentle movements, trying to help him cool down.

“Be good, open your mouth, take the medicine.”

Zhao Yuheng’s voice was very low, carrying a kind of patience used for coaxing a child.

Jin Bao’er opened his mouth dazedly, and a mouthful of extremely bitter medicinal liquid was poured down his throat.

“Ugh…”

He let out a distressed moan and instinctively tried to close his mouth, his brows furrowing tightly into the shape of the character “川” (Chuan).

“Don’t spit it out, don’t spit it out!”

Seeing that he wanted to spit, Zhao Yuheng got anxious. His other hand quickly pinched his chin, yet his palm didn’t dare use too much force, only holding him clumsily in place.

“Bao’er, be obedient. Only by taking this medicine will the fever go down.”

“You’re really worrying me to death…”

That “Bao’er,” delivered with a hint of nasal tone and anxiety…

It was like a feather, lightly brushing against the tip of Jin Bao’er’s heart.

In this strange city, in the middle of this quiet night, there was actually someone so nervous about him.

Jin Bao’er’s previously resistant body softened instantly.

He obediently opened his mouth, letting that large hand feed the rest of the medicine into his mouth.

The bitter liquid slid into his stomach, but strangely, it dissolved into a hint of sweetness in his heart.

After finishing the medicine, Zhao Yuheng didn’t let him go immediately. Instead, he used his fingertips to gently wipe the remaining medicinal stains from the corners of his mouth, his movements impossibly gentle.

Afterward, he carefully laid Jin Bao’er flat and pulled the quilt over to cover him.

Jin Bao’er felt a chill on his forehead as a towel soaked in cold water was gently placed there, frantically sucking away the parching heat in his head.

It was just like when he was a child every time he was sick and didn’t want to take medicine, his mother was like this too.

She couldn’t bear to hit or scold him; she would only coax him, saying, “Be good, it won’t hurt after you take the medicine.”

While gently wiping his sweat and feeding him candy.

“Mom… is it you?”

Because only Mom would coax him like this.

In the middle of the night in this foreign land, he craved this kind of warmth too much.

In his daze, Jin Bao’er mumbled a sentence, turned over, and fell into a deep sleep within that reassuring scent.

Only Zhao Yuheng remained sitting by the bedside, using the faint light of his phone.

From time to time, he would reach out to check his temperature, staying awake all night.

…

The next morning, the first ray of sunlight spilled onto the foot of the bed through a gap in the curtains.

The alarm had barely sounded once before it was hurriedly pressed off by a hand.

Jin Bao’er propped up his aching body and sat up, feeling his head groggy, as if he had been struck by a blunt club.

He subconsciously touched his forehead; there was a cool fever-reducing patch stuck to it.

At this time, the eldest was woken up by the urge to pee and climbed down dizzily from the upper bunk. Seeing Jin Bao’er sitting there blankly, he said in surprise:

“Jin Bao’er, you’re awake? How do you feel?”

“My head is still a bit dizzy…” Jin Bao’er’s voice was still a bit raspy.

“You have no idea, you almost scared us to death last night, especially your Brother Heng.”

The eldest clicked his tongue while looking for his shoes. “You were burning like a furnace. That guy Zhao Yuheng, who is usually so careless, was anxious as anything last night.”

“He was knocking on doors all over the dorm building to borrow fever medicine, and then giving you physical cooling.”

“I don’t know how many times that basin of cold water was changed. I got up in the middle of the night to go to the bathroom and saw him still guarding your bedside, setting an alarm to get up and measure your temperature every half hour.”

Jin Bao’er was stunned, his fingers tightening slightly on the fever patch.

“He… took care of me all night?”

“You bet,” the eldest smiled and patted his shoulder. “Zhao Yuheng is really something else when it comes to you. If my own mother came, she’d probably only give me this level of treatment.”

After saying that, the eldest rushed toward the toilet.

The dormitory door was pushed open, and Zhao Yuheng walked in carrying a large bag of breakfast.

Soy milk, tea eggs, millet porridge, meat buns… all steaming hot.

“Awake?”

Seeing Jin Bao’er sitting on the bed, Zhao Yuheng’s eyes lit up instantly.

Then they dimmed again as he walked over quickly. “Why didn’t you sleep longer? Are you feeling unwell again?”

He set the breakfast on the table and, without even taking off his jacket, that large hand with distinct joints covered Jin Bao’er’s forehead directly.

Jin Bao’er instinctively recoiled a bit, but he was held steady by that hand.

“Doesn’t seem hot anymore.”

Zhao Yuheng muttered, seemingly still worried.

In the next second, Jin Bao’er felt the light go dim.

Zhao Yuheng actually leaned down slightly and used his own forehead to gently touch Jin Bao’er’s forehead.

Thump—thump—thump—

Jin Bao’er’s heart skipped a beat instantly and then began to accelerate frantically.

Their gazes were within inches of each other; he could clearly see the blue stubble emerging on Zhao Yuheng’s chin.

And those eyes filled with bloodshot streaks.

This tough, muscular man who is usually so boisterous and smells of sweat…

At this moment, he was carefully using the most primitive method to test his temperature.

Time seemed to stand still at this moment.

For no more than three seconds.

Zhao Yuheng straightened his back and let out a long sigh of relief.

With hands on his hips, his tone carried a hint of undetectable relief and pride: “Mm, the fever is down. Scared the life out of me.”

Jin Bao’er looked at him.

Looked at this man who appeared a bit haggard from staying up all night, yet remained tall and reliable.

Looked at that streak of uncontrollable concern on his resolute face.

Zhao Yuheng felt a bit uneasy being stared at like that. He reached out and messily rubbed Jin Bao’er’s hair.

His tone was gruff yet held a bit of coaxing: “What are you looking at? Hurry up and eat breakfast.”

“I blew the porridge cool for you, drink up.”

Jin Bao’er lowered his head, hiding the emotions surging in his eyes.

In this meager and dry time of studying in a foreign land…

It seemed a seed, because of those hands last night and this forehead-to-forehead touch this morning, had frantically sprouted tender green shoots.

He gave a soft “Mm,” his voice soft and waxy: “Thank you, Brother Heng.”