Entertainment Industry Limited Time Open - Chapter 9:
Ren Yuheng’s kiss carried both urgency and deep affection.
His lips traced the edges of Tong Liyue’s mouth with delicate precision,
each movement stealing away reason,
until the world itself seemed to blur around them.
Liyue’s breath grew uneven, his body trembling beneath the heat.
His mind screamed to resist, but Yuheng’s hands caught his wrists,
firm yet gentle, leaving him nowhere to run.
When Yuheng finally broke the kiss, their foreheads remained close.
A knowing smile played at his lips as he looked down at Liyue’s flushed face.
You say you can’t, he murmured softly. But then…
His gaze swept downward, lingering just long enough for Liyue to stiffen in shock.
The realization hit him like lightning his body had betrayed him.
No… impossible, he whispered, mortified.
Panic, confusion, and shame tangled inside him.
Ever since he’d stepped into this room,
Yuheng’s unpredictable intensity had thrown him off balance.
He hadn’t even noticed how his own reactions had shifted.
How is it impossible? Yuheng’s low chuckle brushed against the silence.
He leaned closer, brushing a feather-light kiss against Liyue’s cheek,
his fingers threading through the younger man’s hair in quiet comfort.
Let me help you, alright?
Liyue’s mind blanked. What are you talking about?
But Yuheng only looked at him with a gaze that deepened with every heartbeat.
The playful man Liyue thought he knew had vanished,
replaced by someone steady, dangerous, and tender all at once.
Liyue’s blush deepened. His hands trembled. I… I can do it myself…
He tried to pull away, but before he could escape,
Yuheng’s arm circled his waist, pulling him back.
My little Yue… His voice dropped to a whisper,
warm and dangerously close to his ear. Let me help you. Please.
That voice, that nearness it melted every trace of resistance.
Liyue’s knees weakened; the air between them grew heavy with something he couldn’t name.
Without another word, Yuheng lifted him effortlessly.
Liyue gasped, clinging to his shoulders as he was set down upon the bed.
The light fell softly on Yuheng’s face his gaze deep and full of restrained longing.
Brother… Liyue whispered, fingers clutching the sheets.
Yuheng only smiled. His hand found Liyue’s, loosening the tight grip.
Don’t be afraid, he said gently. Trust me.
The world shrank to the sound of their breathing, the dim glow of the lamp,
and the wild, unsteady rhythm of their hearts.
Liyue closed his eyes. He didn’t know when fear had turned into something else
warmth, perhaps, or surrender.
Yuheng murmured his name, voice rough and low.
Liyue opened his eyes just long enough to see that look again one of absolute devotion.
He nodded, barely, almost imperceptibly.
Thank you, Yuheng whispered, pressing a soft kiss against his forehead,
a gesture both grateful and reverent.
What followed was a quiet storm not of force, but of feeling.
Yuheng’s touch was careful, reverent, tracing over
Liyue’s trembling frame as though each breath might shatter him.
The air thickened with tenderness, each heartbeat echoing between them like a confession.
Liyue’s thoughts scattered; all he could sense was the warmth,
the closeness, the unspoken emotions pressing between them.
His resistance melted into quiet, breathless surrender.
Then a sudden sound broke through it all.
A knock.
Little Yue! It’s the finale scene aren’t you coming to watch?
Jiang Linzhao’s voice.
Liyue froze, every nerve on fire. The rush of embarrassment
hit him harder than anything else; his voice shook as he tried to answer,
but Yuheng’s low chuckle stopped him.
Still flustered, he tried again. I… I’ll be out soon
But Yuheng wasn’t done teasing him. His hand slipped against Liyue’s waist,
and a tremor ran through him. He clapped a hand over his mouth,
glaring up at Yuheng with tears of frustration in his eyes.
Jiang’s voice came again, puzzled. Are you crying? Did you and Heng-ge fight?
Liyue wanted to disappear. He shook his head desperately,
forcing out, No, I’m fine… just… I’ll be out soon…
When Jiang finally walked away, the sound of his fading footsteps was the only mercy.
Liyue sagged with relief only for Yuheng to laugh softly and
brush a thumb over the corner of his tear-streaked eye.
Don’t cry, he murmured. You’re beautiful like this.
You’re impossible, Liyue muttered weakly, cheeks burning.
Maybe. Yuheng’s tone was warm and teasing, yet full of something deeper affection,
perhaps, or guilt. Let me make it up to you, alright?
He bent down again, kissing him with a tenderness that dissolved the last of Liyue’s resistance.
The night that followed was a blur of warmth, of trembling breath,
of the strange ache that comes with something new and overwhelming.
When it was finally over, Yuheng brushed his fingers through Liyue’s hair,
his voice barely above a whisper. You did so well, my Yue.
He helped him dress, straightened the sheets, and
pressed a final kiss against his lips. Next time,
he said with a faint smile, we can take it slower.
Liyue’s face went crimson. You’re insane, Ren Yuheng!
Yuheng only laughed and retreated to the bathroom,
the sound of running water filling the silence.
Left alone, Liyue buried his face in a pillow, his heart pounding so hard it hurt.
How could he be so calm?
And worse how could Liyue’s own heart ache this much,
not from fear, but from wanting?
He pressed a hand against his chest, flustered and breathless.
It was strange, he thought.
Because this feeling… didn’t seem unpleasant at all.