That night, Min Zhi remembered something he had left in his study.
When he stepped out, he glanced toward the guest room, then quickly looked away.
After retrieving it, he intended to return straight to his bedroom.
Yet his hand remained on the handle without opening the door.
All evening, Fang Fengzhi’s expression at dinner had kept returning to him.
Perhaps he was still young enough for every emotion to show. One glance had revealed his weariness, his listless eyes.
Even if they were not particularly close, simple courtesy should have prompted Min Zhi to ask what was wrong.
Instead, he had merely looked at him and withdrawn after dinner.
Their relationship was precarious.
One step forward would be too much. One step back would be just enough.
Unfortunately, they could no longer truly go back.
They could only stop moving closer.
They were strangers sharing a house.
There was no telling which word or gesture might cross the safe boundary and stir something in the other person.
Saying nothing and doing nothing was the right choice.
Min Zhi lowered his eyes and drew a deep breath.
He was about to enter when a door opened behind him.
He turned.
Fang Fengzhi had just stepped out.
Seeing Min Zhi across the hallway, he visibly paused. A smile began to form, then faded as though something had occurred to him.
“You’re still awake?” he asked politely.
It was easy to understand.
Fang Fengzhi was thinking the same way.
“I came to get something. I’m going to bed.”
“Oh…”
Neither said anything more.
The silence grew awkward.
Min Zhi’s hand remained on the handle, but he did not go inside.
“What about you?” he asked. “Why aren’t you asleep?”
Fang Fengzhi glanced at him, then away, awkwardly touching the side of his neck.
“I’m having a little trouble sleeping.”
For some reason, he reminded Min Zhi of a small dog just pulled from the water, its ears drooping.
Min Zhi released the handle.
“Feeling upset?”
Watching him suddenly approach, Fang Fengzhi felt his heart stumble.
“N-no…”
The closer Min Zhi came, the stronger the Enigma’s scent became.
Fang Fengzhi held his breath and instinctively stepped back.
Min Zhi frowned.
By the time he stopped before him, Fang Fengzhi’s face was flushed.
“Are you feeling unwell?”
They were not standing particularly close, yet Fang Fengzhi felt surrounded by his pheromones.
He could scarcely breathe.
He did not dare look at Min Zhi’s face.
“No. I’m just… a little hot…”
Min Zhi watched him silently.
“Hot?”
His gaze passed over the open button at Fang Fengzhi’s collar, where a little of his collarbone showed.
He really was warm.
Heat seemed to rise from the opening, carrying the scent of chamomile.
Fang Fengzhi grew light-headed.
Being surrounded by Min Zhi’s pheromones felt so comforting that he feared he might lose himself in them.
His body weakened. His breathing quickened.
With nowhere left to retreat, he leaned against the door.
Why had Min Zhi not left?
If this continued, he could not be certain of his own restraint.
“Mr. Min…”
He looked up, intending to find an excuse to return to his room.
Instead, he met Min Zhi’s eyes.
The words caught in his throat.
Min Zhi was watching him intently.
His gaze passed over the tiny mark on Fang Fengzhi’s eyelid, then settled on his damp eyes.
An impulse rose within him, difficult to suppress.
Fang Fengzhi stared up, scarcely breathing.
That familiar apprehension returned.
He wanted to leave.
Yet his feet did not move. He hardly wanted to blink.
They looked at each other in silence as the air seemed to grow dense and hot.
Fang Fengzhi already knew that two people who felt nothing would not look at each other like this.
So when Min Zhi bent toward him, he was not surprised.
But when their lips touched, uncertainty surged through him.
He remained rigid, his mind empty, unsure what to do next.
They were both lucid now.
Neither needed pheromones.
This kiss was entirely unnecessary.
Yet Min Zhi kissed him.
More than that, he put his arms around him and drew him close.
But he went no further.
He simply held his lips against Fang Fengzhi’s.
Fang Fengzhi did not understand why Min Zhi was doing this.
Nor did he understand why he was not pushing him away.
He could only stare.
Then Min Zhi drew back slightly.
Bending toward him, he rested their foreheads together.
Under that gaze, Fang Fengzhi felt as though his heart might leap out of his chest.
Min Zhi wanted to say something.
He could sense it.
He even heard the faint movement in his throat before he might have spoken.
But no words came.
Min Zhi simply looked at him.
Something complicated filled his eyes, something Fang Fengzhi could neither understand nor dare to name.
His chest ached with an unfamiliar fullness.
He blinked.
As his eyes closed, Min Zhi kissed him again.
This time was different.
He held Fang Fengzhi tighter, as though determined to close every remaining distance.
The kiss became urgent.
Their chests touched. Fang Fengzhi thought he could feel Min Zhi’s heartbeat.
Or perhaps it was his own.
He could no longer tell.
He knew only that it was fast.
Insistent.
Thump.
Thump.
The vibration seemed to pass through his clothes. His knees weakened, leaving him almost entirely supported by Min Zhi’s arms.
This time, he did not hold himself apart.
He kissed him back.
His arms rose around Min Zhi’s neck, drawing him closer.
Min Zhi stepped forward, and the door sounded softly behind them.
Then he lifted Fang Fengzhi into his arms.
Startled, Fang Fengzhi clutched his shoulders.
No one had ever held him like this. Being suspended above the floor made him anxious.
But Min Zhi held him securely.
Now he no longer had to strain upward. He could lower his head and continue the kiss.
They grew closer still.
Warm breaths mingled, chamomile intertwining with gunsmoke.
Neither stopped.
At some point, Min Zhi opened the door.
He carried Fang Fengzhi inside.
When they fell onto the bed, the kiss broke only briefly before beginning again.
The boundaries they had tried to preserve were left outside.
As their intimacy deepened, Fang Fengzhi suddenly caught his wrist.
“Don’t…”
Min Zhi stopped and looked at his flushed face.
Fang Fengzhi’s voice was hoarse.
“There aren’t any condoms…”
Min Zhi’s heart pounded.
He kissed him again and promised they would not go that far.
Yet neither pulled away.
Amid their closeness, the Enigma’s pheromones gradually filled the air and surrounded Fang Fengzhi.
All those days of restraint suddenly seemed so fragile.
He closed his eyes, letting relief and overwhelming sensation carry away his tangled thoughts.
For that moment, there seemed to be only light.
And gunsmoke.
He sank into it, unwilling to wake.
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