Hormones That Can't Be Hidden - Chapter 17

“We both drank a bit too much today. Just stay here tonight; the guest room is already set up.”

Fang Mingxuan was half-persuading and half-supporting him. His tone carried a note of authority that brooked no argument, and his breath held the faint, mellow scent of red wine.

Dong Junhao was already so drunk he was lost in the clouds. His eyelids drooped heavily, and his mouth could only mutter a repetitive “Must go back… have to go back…” while his body felt like a mountain without bones soft and incredibly heavy. The vast majority of his weight was leaning unreservedly against Fang Mingxuan, who, though tall, did not possess a physique built for raw strength.

Fang Mingxuan used every ounce of his power. Half-hugging and half-carrying, dragging and pulling, he finally moved this semiconscious “Drunken Vajra” from the farmhouse back to the main villa and shoved him into the elevator.

Once they reached the second floor, acting on some inexplicable impulse, he didn’t lead the man to the nearer guest room. Instead, he took him straight into his own spacious and comfortable master bedroom.

With great difficulty, he managed to get the man half-propped against the edge of the massive, soft bed. He tried to support Dong’s back to lower him gently into a lying position, but he underestimated the dead weight of a drunken man in total relaxation and overestimated his own balance while under the influence.

His arm dipped, and he lost his center of gravity!

“Ngh!” Fang Mingxuan let out a low grunt. Dragged down by that heavy frame, he pitched forward and landed squarely against Dong Junhao’s chest a chest as hot as a furnace and as solid as a rock.

In an instant, the world seemed to hit the pause button. Even the faint chirping of insects outside vanished, leaving only the sound of their intertwined, scorching, and erratic breathing, magnified infinitely in the absolute silence of the room.

Fang Mingxuan hurriedly used his elbows to prop up his upper body, trying to create some distance, but the posture only brought their faces closer together. With their noses nearly touching, he could see with harrowing clarity Dong Junhao’s alcohol-softened face, flushed deep red.

Up close, the skin still held the slightly rough texture left by the sun and manual labor, yet it radiated a healthy, vigorous vitality. His pores were slightly dilated, emitting a palpable heat. His thick, raven-feather lashes had lost their usual alertness and were swept down meekly, casting heavy shadows on his eyelids. They trembled slightly with every heavy, hot breath, and each flutter felt like a feather scratching against the most restless parts of Fang Mingxuan’s heart.

That jawline as sharp and hard-edged as if carved by an axe still exuded a sense of masculine power even in this defenseless state. His Adam’s apple bobbed unconsciously with every swallow, carrying a lethal attraction.

The most devastating part was his lips. Usually pressed firmly together, appearing dull or even stubborn, they were now slightly parted from his drunken gasps. The lips were full and lush, shimmering with a moist luster. At this extreme proximity, they presented a purely primal temptation one that was entirely unaware of its own power.

A surge of long-suppressed, deep-seated heat like a volcano with a lit fuse erupted without warning from the pit of Fang Mingxuan’s stomach. The scorching lava instantly raced through his limbs and bones! Blood crashed through his veins with the roar of a war drum, battering his eardrums and his logic.

His Adam’s apple bobbed violently. His mouth was parched, and his gaze was held by an irresistible electromagnetic field; he couldn’t pull his eyes away from this face for a single second a face filled with pure, potent, and drunkenly defenseless masculine charm.

This guy… He probably had no idea of the dense, wild, soul-piercing attraction he broadcasted unconsciously. He was quite literally a walking hormone; it was no wonder he could so easily stir up the waters at the bathhouse.

Fang Mingxuan didn’t consider himself a saint, and his romantic history was varied enough that he had seen plenty of temptation, both overt and subtle. Right now, with such an intense visual and sensory impact right before him, every instinct in his body screamed at him to get closer, closer…

His lips moved almost uncontrollably, slowly drifting toward those two moist, invitingly thick lips. The heavy scent of wine mixed with the distinct masculine aroma of Dong Junhao tinged with the scent of sweat acted as the most potent aphrodisiac. His hands seemed to have a mind of their own, naturally sliding under Dong’s loose T-shirt, his fingertips already brushing against that solid chest.

No!

Just as he reached the edge of losing control, the final shred of clarity in his mind pierced through the boiling sea of desire like an icicle.

Isn’t this taking advantage of someone?

Fang Mingxuan’s movements froze. He had seen too many scenes of people faking drunkenness to play along with “reluctant” consent; usually, he would just go with the flow to satisfy mutual needs. But he was one hundred percent certain that the honest man beneath him was not faking this state. He was truly dead to the world, completely devoid of the power to resist.

He liked him this heartbeat was clear and powerful. And because of that, he wanted to pursue him openly, to win his heart, rather than possess him through such despicable means while he was unconscious.

This kind of stubborn man grown from the soil, with a spine of iron and a rustic moral code, had a heart that was pure but also incredibly headstrong. If he used force or played mind games, it would likely backfire, scaring the man back into his shell instantly. He might even turn and flee, disappearing forever into the vast sea of people in this city.

That was not the result Fang Mingxuan wanted.

It’s fine… Fang Mingxuan took a deep breath, forcing himself to calm down as he pressed his churning desires back into the depths of his heart. There was plenty of time and many opportunities ahead. He didn’t believe that sincere treatment couldn’t eventually wear down this stubborn stone.

While the “strong-arm” approach was absolutely off the table, surely it wasn’t too much to enjoy a little “fringe benefit” for his eyes? Fang Mingxuan found the perfect excuse for himself. Besides, looking at those clothes soaked in sweat and the smoke of the stove, clinging to him in a crumpled mess… they really did need to come off for a wash. Otherwise, he wouldn’t sleep comfortably.

Having convinced himself, Fang Mingxuan composed himself and began to work carefully.

He first rolled Dong Junhao onto his side and quickly peeled off the wrinkled T-shirt. A bronze chest, with blocky, well-defined muscles that rose and fell with his breath, was gradually exposed. This body, forged by years of high-intensity labor, lacked the exaggerated lines of a gym-carved physique, yet every inch of muscle contained a solid sense of power. The broad scapulae, the thick pectorals, and the tight waist formed a primitive canvas of wild vitality. The tracks of sweat shimmered faintly under the lights; the skin was hot, as if the rushing blood and vigorous life force beneath could be felt through the surface.

Fang Mingxuan’s breathing became ragged again. The visual impact was stronger than he had imagined. With great effort, he pulled his gaze away and moved his hands to slide off the trousers. The resulting view was an even greater torment.

When the covering of the trousers was gone and that masculine, powerful body was presented almost entirely without reservation, Fang Mingxuan felt a rush of blood go straight to his head. His ears buzzed, and his self-control teetered on the brink. He snapped his head away, gasping for air, using every ounce of his willpower to restrain the beast-like impulse that threatened to break out of its cage.

No. If I keep looking, I really can’t guarantee I’ll be able to hold back.

He quickly grabbed the fluffy, soft down duvet on the bed and somewhat frantically covered the body that, for him, was a fatal temptation. Only when that high-impact image was completely hidden by the soft fabric did Fang Mingxuan let out a long, heavy sigh of relief, tinged with infinite regret.

He stood by the bed, looking at the humanoid silhouette beneath the covers and that face that remained handsome and rugged even in sleep. His heart was still thundering like a drum. He reached out and, with his cool fingertips, extremely gently brushed away a lock of black hair dampened by sweat from Dong Junhao’s forehead. The movement was incredibly tender.

“I’ll let you off tonight…”

He whispered to himself, his voice husky with lingering desire and a trace of helpless doting. “We have a long time ahead of us, Dong Junhao.”