How Can Two People From Different Sides Ever Fall in Love? - Chapter 2

Chapter 2: Are You a Beast?

After straightening Hollis’s tie, Raven didn’t immediately withdraw his hand. Instead, he smoothed out the collar of Hollis’s shirt and patted away non-existent dust from the peak lapels.

“No need to thank me, Councilor. Consider these two gestures a complimentary service from me.”

Hollis’s eyes followed the movement of Raven’s hands.

They were fair and slender, with distinct knuckles and neatly trimmed nails that gave off a healthy, pale pink luster. Beautiful hands naturally complemented a beautiful face; Hollis let his gaze travel up Raven’s arm, all the way to his eyes.

Behind frameless lenses with no prescription, Raven’s gray-green “peach blossom” eyes tilted slightly upward. On a face that carried a hint of a smile for everyone, his lower eyelids were currently lifted, revealing a faint, ink-colored mole usually hidden by the frames.

The tiny mole sat right at the outer corner of his right eye. His long lashes fluttered up and down, occasionally obscuring its presence.

“You still haven’t answered my question.”

“Hmm?” Raven looked genuinely bewildered. What kind of question could be so haunting that Hollis remained this fixated? Surely it wasn’t the one about not being able to find him during the break.

He’d found him in the restroom—what else was there to know?

Hollis was forced to ask again: “You seem… very repelled by marriage.”

Raven grew even more perplexed. He didn’t understand what this had to do with anything. He knit his brows and tilted his head: “What makes you say that?”

Hollis realized he might have overthought it and shrugged. “If you aren’t, all the better.”

Raven’s hand remained on Hollis’s lapel. At these words, his lips thinned into a line. His refined upbringing made him forget that he should be rolling his eyes; instead, he returned good for evil, smoothing a slight wrinkle on Hollis’s shoulder.

Before Raven could drop his hand, Hollis took the opportunity to brush against the sapphire cufflink on Raven’s sleeve. In the bright light, the cufflink refracted a brilliant blue glow. “You wore them after all. I told you then—they suit you perfectly.”

“I wore them and you’re still being this rude. What if I hadn’t?” Raven raised his hand slightly, moving past Hollis’s arm hanging at his side. “Would you be giving me a ‘lesson’ right now?”

The cufflinks were a Feast of the God gift Hollis had given Raven on March 3rd. The translucent sky-blue color was remarkably similar to Hollis’s own eyes. Today was the first time Raven had worn them.

Last night, Raven had received a text from Hollis: “Don’t like the cufflinks? I haven’t seen you wear them.”

Hollis had gone on his business trip shortly after giving the gift, so he hadn’t had the chance to see Raven wear them. Furthermore, work had its priorities; no one in their right mind would wear a pair of sapphire cufflinks for mundane daily tasks.

However, the inter-party consultative meeting was another matter. Before heading out this morning, Raven had pulled open his drawer, considered it for a moment, and finally decided to put them on. It would be rude and ungentlemanly to show no acknowledgement when the gift-giver’s intent was so earnest.

Moreover, Raven felt a bit guilty. Since Hollis gave the gift, Raven hadn’t returned the favor. It was only after seeing the text last night that he realized he’d been so busy with meetings he’d forgotten the matter entirely. Wearing the cufflinks was partly to satisfy Hollis and partly to remind himself to pick a good day to buy a return gift.

“I wouldn’t dare,” Hollis said, though his actions were far from humble. With a thud, he braced his hand against the wall, trapping Raven between the sink, the wall, and his embrace, before leaning his body forward.

Raven was surprised for a moment. He wasn’t worried that Hollis actually wanted to give him a lesson, but everything had happened so suddenly that he hadn’t reacted in time.

“What is the meaning of this, Councilor?” Raven turned his head, glancing at the arm beside his cheek with a subtle smile.

As soon as he spoke, Hollis’s Adam’s apple bobbed several times. His deep blue eyes shot a dark gleam, and his voice sounded as if his throat were filled with cotton, hoarse and low: “Don’t look at me like that.”

“What?” Raven asked, puzzled.

He only had these eyes to see with. If he didn’t look at him “like that,” how else was he supposed to look at him?

Raven was only slightly shorter than Hollis, but his frame was a size smaller. Whenever Hollis leaned in, Raven’s pupils naturally tilted upward, making his peach blossom eyes look rounder, carrying a rare sense of innocence and confusion.

This was something Raven didn’t know about himself. Hollis cherished this version of him immensely; simultaneously, his physical reaction grew incredibly intense.

Faced with the collision of extreme innocence and extreme desire, Hollis used his height advantage to bury his face into the crook of Raven’s neck, using the contact to alleviate the burning heat within him.

“Did you change your perfume? I don’t think I’ve smelled this scent before.”

Raven had indeed purchased a new fragrance recently. It had a cold, herbal scent with weak sillage; one could only faintly smell it when close. It was very suitable for a formal occasion like an inter-party consultative meeting.

And a formal occasion required formal behavior.

Accompanied by the cool herbal scent, Raven’s voice gradually went cold. “Get off.”

He hadn’t taken action because he was worried Hollis would do something reckless. If he lost his temper and struggled, the commotion would not only wrinkle his clothes but also easily attract the attention of others.

“Wait a moment.” To his surprise, his tactical patience only earned him more boldness from Hollis, whose steps continued to press closer.

After a series of rustling sounds, their four legs became entangled. Hollis shifted his leg. Beneath the stiff, smooth suit fabric, he lightly brushed against a hard object that wasn’t part of the suit’s material. That was Raven’s shirt stays—the secret to why his clothes remained so perfectly flat during meetings.

Realizing this, Hollis’s scalp tingled.

Unlike Hollis, what Raven felt was an extraordinary temperature. A vein at his temple throbbed. From between the two tightly pressed male bodies, he struggled to find a gap to look down and investigate.

The answer was clear at a glance. Raven couldn’t help but raise his voice: “Are you a beast?!”

Hollis answered solemnly: “No.”

He was as rigorous as if they were discussing a scientific topic.

Raven’s scolding wasn’t entirely due to their current personal friction. As early as two weeks ago, before Hollis went on his business trip, Raven had deeply experienced Hollis’s beast-like behavior.

In the early morning of the day Hollis was set to depart, Hollis had woken him up early. The sky wasn’t even light yet, and Raven was still groggy, thinking Hollis was leaving. Out of respect for his political rival, colleague, and bed partner, he swallowed his “getting-out-of-bed” temper and intended to give him a proper goodbye.

Instead, the “beast” pinned him down and did it again.

By the time Raven woke up again, only a lingering trace of a sleeping body remained beside him. Through the gap in the curtains that hadn’t been fully closed, shards of sunlight scattered, reminding Raven that he was about to be late for work. Even the fact that he could eat the breakfast Hollis had prepared didn’t negate the absurdity of being woken up in the middle of the night just for that.

With that much endless “ox-like” energy, the man could still manage to prepare breakfast on time. Raven had taken a vicious bite of his sandwich, secretly deciding that in the future, regardless of who was going on a business trip, he would kick Hollis out of the house.

However, not seeing him for two weeks had been enough to quell his anger. Yet now, with old and new grudges overlapping, Raven—usually known for his emotional stability—lost his temper. He rareley spoke so bluntly instead of his usual roundabout ways of insulting someone.

Unfortunately, his “flirtatious” glares were wasted on the blind. Hollis remained as calm as if “beast” were a compliment.

“Am I discussing your biological classification with you, Councilor Hollis?”

Raven turned his head to glare at that fuzzy head. It was truly rare; the irony was that only in a scene like this could he catch a glimpse of the top of Hollis’s head. He couldn’t help but sneer, “Open your eyes and look where we are.”

“The restroom.”

“You know that and you still won’t get off?”

Hollis didn’t speak, nor did he move. He gently sniffed Raven’s neck—not just the bitter herbal scent, but Raven’s own natural smell. The bitterness carried a hint of sweetness, a bit like life: the “sweetness after the bitter” that most people dream of.

Hollis couldn’t help but let his mind wander. His fingers twitched, wanting to wrap around Raven’s waist, but he quickly stopped himself. He practiced rock climbing long-term; his palms were broad and his knuckles large. It was only because his fingers were long that the proportions didn’t look off. Raven was fastidious and hated moving; he was just a bag of bones. If Hollis didn’t control his strength and wrinkled this suit, there would be hell to pay when they got home.

“Respect the clothes before the man” Raven always had certain strange insistence on etiquette.

Hollis was indeed being led by his hormones, which indirectly dictated his behavior, but he wasn’t a real beast; he knew where the line was.

“I’ve been away for nearly two weeks. Not only did you never contact me, you’re now accusing me to my face of being disheveled.” As he spoke, Hollis sounded a bit aggrieved. He couldn’t do what he wanted to do, and the person he wanted was being so rude—from the meeting hall to the restroom, Raven was either picking apart the loopholes in his proposal or scolding him for being horny regardless of the setting, all while calling him a “beast” in every breath.

Raven’s attitude remained unchanged. He curled his lip and argued, “Didn’t you also…”

But just as he started, he suddenly remembered the missed call on his phone and immediately fell silent.

It was already the middle of the night when he discovered it. Fearing the other man was asleep, Raven had first sent a text asking “What’s up?” only to receive a “Nothing,” so he stopped caring and went to sleep. Since then, his phone had been very quiet. Just like forgetting the return gift, Raven had forgotten that missed call again.

After the Feast of the God, the Republic of Olo grew busy. Not only did Hollis need to go on business trips, but Raven, working behind the scenes, had an endless pile of documents to process. Belonging to different parties, they were like two parallel lines that only intersected at this moment within the same space.

The result of this intersection, however, was bizarre and hilarious. Feeling he was in the wrong, Raven said in a conciliatory tone, “Why don’t you find a stall?”

Having finally caught an opportunity, how could Hollis easily let it go? He immediately issued an invitation: “Together.”

Raven tried to persuade him: “Do it yourself, and you’ll have plenty of food and clothing.”

Hollis countered: “Let someone else do it, and sit back to enjoy the fruits.”

Seeing that persuasion was useless, Raven’s smile vanished. He muttered a “troublesome” under his breath. Fearing Hollis might act up again, he quickly grabbed his wrist, dragged him to the last stall, opened the door, and threw him inside.

“Councilor Hollis, I’ve personally delivered you here. Satisfied now?”

Without waiting for a review, Raven tossed out a sentence in Chinese: “Flush it down the toilet yourself!” He clapped his hands and prepared to leave.

Just as he turned, he revealed Hollis inside the stall. Currently, Hollis was leaning against the partition, his eyelids half-drooping, looking listless.

But just as Raven was about to depart, the broken end of Hollis’s left eyebrow twitched—like a patiently lurking predator waiting for the right moment to seize its prey and drag it into its territory.

In a flash, their positions were reversed.

Using only one hand, Hollis pinned both of Raven’s hands behind his back. He leaned down slightly, pressing the prey—whose back was to him, against the partition. With his free hand, he didn’t forget to lock the stall door.

With a click, he said slowly, “Does the People’s Reason Party teach you to just pat your butt and walk away when you run into trouble?”

Hollis knew Raven was particular and hated wrinkles on his clothes, so he didn’t press directly against his back. Instead, he kept a small distance and brought his face close to whisper in his ear.

Raven shrugged nonchalantly. “Well, they certainly never taught me to bite the hand that feeds me.”

Despite the clear shift in offensive and defensive positions, Raven remained as composed as ever, showing no panic. He gently twisted his wrists, signaling Hollis to let go, while also indicating he wouldn’t struggle.

Sensing the grip on his wrists loosen, Raven pulled his hands back, turned around, and faced Hollis directly.

However, space in the stall was limited. No matter how careful Raven was, the movements of two long-limbed men crowding into such a small area couldn’t be subtle.

The two most prominent parts of the men accidentally “brushed past” each other.

Hollis let out another muffled groan, and Raven could no longer remain calm.

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