After An Alpha Discovered I Have Pheromone Deficiency Syndrome - Chapter 28

Chapter 28: Tail Touching and a Classroom Roleplay

After spending several cozy, inseparable days at home, it was finally time for Professor Pei to return to campus for lectures.

Graduate-level coursework was a significant leap from undergraduate classes. Hua Che knew he wouldn’t understand most of it—but that didn’t stop him from tagging along. He found a spot in the front row and curled up quietly in a corner.

He concealed his fox ears and tail just like he had the last time he snuck into class to watch Pei Yu. Dressed in a thick cotton coat, he sat small and still, resembling a fluffy little ball.

Most of the lecture content flew right over his head. Instead, he spent the time watching the man on the stage in quiet awe.

Professor Pei stood in a well-fitted winter coat, laser pointer in hand, confidently explaining advanced psychiatric concepts. His tone was calm and precise, radiating an authority that came from true mastery—but he never sounded condescending.

“The final exam will be conducted online and closed-book,” he announced.

Groans of despair echoed from the students.

Pei Yu didn’t flinch. He set the pointer down with unshaken composure and added, “It’ll be based on fundamental concepts, all of which are important for your thesis. It’s not difficult—you’ll remember it when the time comes.”

“Class dismissed.”

Afterward, several students crowded around the podium, clutching papers and laptops, asking questions about research projects. Pei Yu responded with the same calm professionalism, occasionally jotting notes on the whiteboard. His demeanor was approachable, but he remained composed and reserved.

From his corner, Hua Che rested his chin on the desk, quietly watching.

This Pei Yu—poised, authoritative, and focused—was entirely different from the warm, teasing man he spent his days with at home. Even though he was just as kind, there was a subtle distance in his professional persona, a cool gentleness that made him seem untouchable.

It reminded Hua Che of the first time he secretly attended one of Pei Yu’s lectures at Kyoto University, back when there were no strict entry controls.

At that time, Hua Che had struggled with the technical vocabulary in Sakurazuru, his foreign accent betraying him. Pei Yu, ever polite and composed, had paused and switched seamlessly to Mandarin.

“You’re an international student from China? Feel free to ask in Mandarin,” he had said gently.

Hua Che still didn’t know how he’d mustered the courage to walk up to the podium that day, asking simple, even silly, questions under the professor’s patient guidance.

Maybe it had been desperation. Maybe curiosity. More likely—it was an attempt to reach out to someone outside of Lingguan. Someone who didn’t only speak to him through transactions.

Not once did he feel dismissed or judged. Even though he was just a clueless freshman, Pei Yu had spoken to him kindly:

“In the beginning, things always feel overwhelming. But everyone starts somewhere.”

Back then, Pei Yu had even pulled out the class roster and asked,

“You can always reach out after class. What’s your name?”

And Hua Che—panicked—had replied, “Me? I’m just sitting in. Thank you, Professor Pei!”

Then he’d bolted from the room before anyone could stop him.

So when he escaped Lingguan again and snuck back into Pei Yu’s class later, he’d been shocked to hear Pei Yu say: “I remember you. You came to sit in on my class once, didn’t you?”

It was hard to believe that something so fleeting had left an impression on Pei Yu.

Only after the last student left did Hua Che finally rise and slowly approach the podium.

With his coat loosened, his fox tail slipped free and gently brushed against his ankles.

“Professor Pei, I have a question too,” he said playfully.

Pei Yu paused in packing up his lecture notes and glanced up to see Hua Che looking at him with a glint of mischief in his fox-like eyes.

He smiled—eyes curving just slightly—and responded in kind, picking up on the playful mood instantly.

“This student, what’s your question?”

Their little roleplay was transparent, but Pei Yu went along with it without missing a beat.

“It’s about that material you said would be on the final exam. I really can’t seem to remember it,” Hua Che said, fully embracing his role. “Could you explain it again?”

Pei Yu lowered his gaze and chuckled. “So… trying to get private tutoring from the professor before the test? Are you trying to bribe me?”

Even as he joked, he turned to the back of his handout and picked up a pen, ready to explain.

Hua Che stepped closer, lifting his bushy fox tail and resting it on the desk in front of Pei Yu.

The thick, silky fur was immaculately groomed and impossibly soft—better than any plush toy.

With a sly grin, Hua Che tilted his chin. “How about this kind of bribe, Professor Pei?”

Pei Yu’s fingers closed around the tail, gathering the soft fur in his hand.

“Of course,” he replied smoothly.

He gently buried his fingers in the fluff, twisting through the warm layers.

A shiver ran down Hua Che’s spine, and he gasped softly.

His tail twitched instinctively, trying to pull away—but Pei Yu held firm.

The strange, tingling sensation in a quiet, empty classroom made Hua Che feel almost scandalously exhilarated.

A blush crept up his cheeks, and his eyes sparkled with an anxious mist.

He clamped his lips shut, trying not to make another sound.

“Shall I go over the exam topics again?” Pei Yu asked calmly, as if nothing unusual was happening.

“Y-Yes… thank you, Professor Pei,” Hua Che stammered, trying to focus on the notes in front of him.

His tail was extremely sensitive—like all Omegas with non-human traits. Especially near the base of the spine, even the slightest touch could trigger intense reactions.

He shifted awkwardly, squeezing his knees together, trying to suppress the overwhelming sensation. But the hand on his tail kept moving—slowly, deliberately, creeping closer.

Pei Yu continued speaking in a steady, professional tone, utterly unfazed.

But his hand…

It didn’t stop.

It roamed up the tail, fingers rubbing in slow, coaxing circles.

Was it really necessary to keep lecturing while toying with someone’s tail?

Hua Che’s breathing hitched, his forehead breaking into a sweat. He bit his lip harder.

He felt like he was dissolving from the inside out, the teasing touch sending waves of sensation spiraling through him.

Then Pei Yu asked gently, “Are you listening? Where was I again?”

Pulled back to the present, Hua Che looked down at the handout, voice trembling as he answered:

“Y-Yes… I’m listening… I think I understand now…”

“No need to rush,” Pei Yu replied, voice still calm. “We’re not finished yet.”

“…ah…”

Hua Che ducked his head, clutching the edge of the podium as his knees buckled slightly.

The grip on his tail tightened, moving even higher—until the hand disappeared under the podium entirely.

The tip of his tail lifted in response, twitching shamelessly.

Was it always this sensitive?

He couldn’t even pretend to follow the lesson anymore. His entire focus was consumed by the sensations flooding through him.

Trying to stay silent, he bit down on his finger to muffle a sound.

Their connection was almost tangible—the tail like a live wire between them.

Pei Yu found the most sensitive spot and gave it a gentle pinch. Hua Che gasped, his legs giving out as he collapsed forward.

Strong arms caught him around the waist.

Through watery eyes, Hua Che looked up—and saw Pei Yu’s composed expression. There was a faint smile on his lips, and just a flicker of heat behind his calm gaze.

“Does falling into my arms count as part of the bribe?” he asked, voice low and amused.

Compared to Pei Yu’s unshaken calm, Hua Che looked completely undone—eyes misty, cheeks flushed, his whole body painted in emotion.

Still catching his breath, he nodded slightly and murmured, “Yes… Does it work?”

Pei Yu stroked his back gently, helping the panting fox steady himself.

He’d teased him to the point of collapse—and now he was the one offering comfort.

“I’m satisfied,” Pei Yu said. “Still want to hear the rest of the lecture?”

Hua Che’s tail perked up at the question, betraying his interest, but the fox himself replied bashfully:

“Can you… maybe not touch my tail while you’re lecturing?”

Pei Yu paused, then held him closer.

“Don’t like me touching it? But your tail is warm. Your whole body is warm.”

“I…” Hua Che squeezed his eyes shut and whispered, “…I like it.”

“Good.”

Pei Yu chuckled, reaching up to pinch Hua Che’s flushed cheek.

“Honest answer. So—shall I continue?”

“No! No need!”

Hua Che waved his hands and pushed at Pei Yu weakly. “I got it. I can memorize it now. Thank you, Professor!”

“Just praised you for being honest,” Pei Yu teased.

Flustered, Hua Che grabbed the marked notes and quickly fibbed, “I really can remember it! I’ll go review it right now—I won’t fail!”

“Alright then. I’ll quiz you another day,” Pei Yu replied, gaze falling to the twitching fox tail. “If you get it wrong, I’ll have to punish you.”

“I won’t! I’ll definitely remember it all!”

The little fox was so caught up in preserving his tail’s dignity, he didn’t notice the danger lurking in those words.

Still lost in the fun of roleplaying and the warm, shameful pleasure, he didn’t register the warning behind Pei Yu’s calm voice.

Pei Yu didn’t press the matter. He simply reached for Hua Che’s hand.

“Come on. Let’s go to the research building—you’ve been dying to see the lab, haven’t you?”

The psychiatric research institute was housed in its own building on campus, long-established and world-renowned. It was a hub of cutting-edge equipment and groundbreaking studies.

Pei Yu had studied there from undergraduate to doctoral level, then worked his way up through research until he became the youngest director of the entire institute.

“Afternoon, Boss Pei,” a voice greeted them.

Harris, Pei Yu’s doctoral student, was a bleary-eyed Alpha with the haggard look of someone who hadn’t slept in two days.

He noticed the Omega walking beside Pei Yu, who wasn’t wearing a hat—his soft pink ears fully visible. Hua Che’s curious eyes wandered openly, full of playful charm.

“…Wait,” Harris said, squinting. “Aren’t you… that ‘fox oiran’? You look really familiar.”

The words froze Hua Che in place.

He hadn’t thought about that nickname in days, ever since leaving that place and immersing himself in quiet days with Pei Yu.

But now it had resurfaced—so casually, like a harmless joke.

He knew that name had likely etched itself into people’s memories, just as deeply as it had scarred his own.

His expression faltered, and he wobbled slightly.

Pei Yu calmly stepped forward and placed a steadying hand on Hua Che’s shoulder, pulling him back gently.

“His name is Hua Che,” he said smoothly. “An Omega I brought.”

The words were simple—but clear in their message: mine.

Even someone as sleep-deprived as Harris understood instantly.

He stiffened, realizing belatedly how inappropriate his comment had been.

“S-Sorry! Hello, Hua Che—I’m Harris, one of Boss Pei’s PhD students.”

He tried to recover, his smile stiff.

“Apologies again. I haven’t slept for two nights writing reports—I’m not really thinking straight.”

“It’s okay. ‘Fox oiran’… yeah, that’s me too.”

Hua Che replied quietly.

“Haha… well, you’re even prettier in person. I’d only seen your posters before, but wow, the real thing’s…”

“Thank you.”

The air grew more awkward with every passing second.

Harris hastily excused himself and practically ran off, muttering curses at himself under his breath.

Hua Che watched him go and laughed softly.

With just one sentence—“the Omega I brought”—Pei Yu had cleared the air completely.

From now on, everyone in the institute would know: Hua Che was not someone to be taken lightly.

And Pei Yu had made it unmistakably clear—Hua Che was his.