Straight Man Gets Reincarnated into an ABO Novel and Ends Up with His Rival - Chapter 15

Just as Fu Jing was about to go pay, Wang Bupo suddenly remembered something and tugged on his sleeve, whispering:

“Hey,… I still need to buy a few pairs of underwear. The ones we hung out to dry aren’t they all gone?”

Now that he mentioned it, Fu Jing remembered too. That old building had all its wiring outside the walls. When the explosion set the place on fire, the flames spread from the outside in, so everything on the balcony was the first to go. Their clothes and several pairs of underwear had all burned.

The two headed together to the men’s underwear section.

Wang Bupo grabbed a few pairs of decent-looking white cotton boxers. When he turned around, Fu Jing was still standing there, motionless.

“What are you doing? Aren’t you buying any?”

“None of these fit.”

Wang Bupo raised a brow. “You’re still being picky? If you want brand names, at least check how much money’s left in your wallet first.”

He thought Young Master Fu was just being snobby about the cheap brands.

Fu Jing glanced at him, his nicely shaped lips pressing into a straight line before he said, “They’re too small.”

“Huh?” Wang Bupo froze. “What’s too small?”

“The size,” Fu Jing added calmly, giving him a look of mild disdain.

Wang Bupo’s eyes darted to Fu Jing’s lower half, then subconsciously to his own.

…Wait a minute. What’s that supposed to mean? Is he implying I’m small? I’m perfectly average!

Wang Bupo instantly bristled. If looks could kill, Fu Jing would’ve been cut into ribbons on the spot.

Finally, Fu Jing spotted a pair of gray boxers tucked away in the corner. Apparently, his size was so uncommon that the store barely stocked it.

Just imagining why made Wang Bupo’s muscles tense up and a cold sweat trickle down his back.

“Unbelievable,” he muttered under his breath, glaring at Fu Jing, who looked completely unbothered. Left with no choice, he swallowed his words and followed him to the checkout.

Earlier, Wang Bupo had given Fu Jing one of his bank cards, saying it was for managing shared expenses. Most of his income would be transferred there, and Fu Jing could just deduct what was needed.

The rest, he asked Fu Jing to hold on, supposedly to stop himself from spending recklessly until they’d saved up a million.

He trusted Fu Jing completely. As a top student in finance, Fu Jing was cold, sharp-tongued, and a bit arrogant, but definitely more reliable than him. It was like having a free personal financial advisor. If he kept the money himself, he’d probably burn through it in days.

By the time they’d finished tidying up their new place, it was already close to eight in the evening.

Wang Bupo slumped onto the couch, exhausted. The sound of running water drifted from the bathroom and into his head.

It was nothing but the craving for Fu Jing’s pheromones.

He couldn’t be away from Fu Jing for even half an hour now. Without that faint grapefruit scent, he felt like he was losing his mind.

So this was what the doctor meant by pheromone dependency. It wasn’t physical pain, it was mental torment.

This afternoon, his self-control had only held out thanks to that jacket of Fu Jing’s, which was saturated with his scent. Now, even that scent had faded.

Fu Jing had been in the shower for nearly twenty minutes. Ever since they’d split up to clean the house separately, Wang Bupo had felt uneasy. When they were close, he could still catch a trace of the scent, but once Fu Jing was out of range, the craving clawed at him from the inside out.

The moment the bathroom door opened, Wang Bupo shot up from the sofa.

Fu Jing stepped out in a bathrobe, dark hair dripping and framing his cool, pale face. His tall figure, half-veiled in steam, looked like it had stepped straight out of an ink painting.

As Fu Jing walked past him toward the bedroom, Wang Bupo slipped into the bathroom. The lingering grapefruit scent in the mist made his scattered thoughts focus again.

Like an addict chasing a fix, he breathed it in greedily. When he saw Fu Jing’s clothes in the laundry basket, he hesitated for only a second, then picked up a T-shirt and buried his face in it, inhaling.

“What are you doing?”

The cold voice froze him instantly. Wang Bupo turned around, still clutching the shirt, his nose and eyes tinged red from the pheromone’s effect. He had no idea how to respond.

Fu Jing hadn’t expected the dependency to have gotten this bad. They were under the same roof, and yet being apart for just over an hour had already triggered symptoms.

The two of them sat side by side on the sofa, a heavy silence settling between them, finally forced to face the issue they’d both been avoiding all day.

Wang Bupo remembered what the doctor had said about the symptoms and treatment, but he didn’t dare bring it up.

Fu Jing clearly knew as well. Seeing that Wang Bupo wasn’t going to say anything, he didn’t either.

“What should I do?” Wang Bupo fidgeted with his fingers, uneasy. “I can’t even go an hour without feeling miserable. Am I going to end up glued to you like a Siamese twin?”

“Starting tonight, we’ll begin treatment,” Fu Jing said, brows furrowing. His tone was calm, but the tightness between his brows betrayed his irritation.

“Oh… uh, what kind of treatment?” Wang Bupo asked nervously.

“What do you think?” Fu Jing gave him a sharp sideways look. “Or do you not want to get better? I mean, it’s not my problem.”

“Let’s do it,” Wang Bupo said after a moment of hesitation, steeling himself.

Then, completely misinterpreting the situation, he dropped onto the carpet, bracing himself in a ridiculous pose as if waiting for some grand ritual.

“Okay, I’m ready! Just get it over with!” he blurted, squeezing his eyes shut.

Fu Jing’s temple twitched. He fought the urge to kick him clear across the room.

“Come on! Don’t hesitate, or I’ll lose my nerve!” Wang Bupo added anxiously.

Fu Jing yanked him to his feet in one swift motion.

“What are you doing?” Wang Bupo blinked, confused.

 “Aren’t we uh starting treatment?”

Fu Jing stared at him with a dark expression. “What exactly do you think treatment means?”

“Didn’t the doctor say… deeper communication helps?” Wang Bupo asked, baffled.

Fu Jing’s face went cold again. Did this idiot even know what he was saying?

After a moment of silence, Fu Jing exhaled sharply, his expression caught somewhere between exasperation and composure.

“Turn around,” he said at last, voice low and steady. “Face the other way.”