Straight Man Gets Reincarnated into an ABO Novel and Ends Up with His Rival - Chapter 19

Wang Bupo wasn’t sure how much rationality Fu Jing still had left, but judging by how he’d been rubbing against him for half the night without taking things any further, at least he wasn’t completely out of control yet.

“Wife… it hurts,” Fu Jing mumbled, his voice muffled against Wang Bupo’s neck.

Once his initial panic passed, goosebumps prickled all over Wang Bupo’s arms. He realized that struggling might only make things worse, so he tried to calm himself down and reason through it. Fu Jing was an alpha in a special period sniffing around, and calling anyone “wife” was probably just his instinct acting up. It didn’t mean anything. He just needed to hold it together and not overreact.

So, using his most patient tone, Wang Bupo said, “Hey, let me get up first, alright? I’ll help you, okay?”

Fu Jing froze. When Wang Bupo turned his head, he saw his long lashes trembling slightly it seemed Fu Jing had actually heard him. Encouraged, Wang Bupo coaxed him further, “I’m not gonna run, I promise. I’ll help you feel better, just… move off me first, yeah? You’re crushing me here.”

After a moment, Fu Jing slowly released him and sat back on his knees, still staring straight at him.

—

In the living room, Wang Bupo sat on the couch, running a frustrated hand through his hair. Beside him, Fu Jing had his arms wrapped tightly around Wang Bupo’s waist, his head buried against his chest, tears spilling pitifully down his face.

On the floor nearby lay a shattered vial, the alpha suppressant that Fu Jing had snatched out of his hand and thrown earlier.

“W-wife,” Fu Jing whimpered, a tear-streaked face full of desperate need.

“Don’t call me that! Look what you’ve done!” Wang Bupo snapped, furious. “You broke the suppressant, so now you can just deal with it! I’m not helping you anymore!”

He shoved Fu Jing aside and started to stand, intending to storm off to the bedroom.

But Fu Jing lunged forward and pinned him back down on the couch.

“Want wife. Don’t want the shot,” he murmured, crying harder, pressing his tear-streaked face against Wang Bupo’s cheek.

For the first time in his life, Wang Bupo felt truly helpless.

“Fine,” he sighed, exasperated. “Tell me what it’ll take for you to let me give you the suppressant.”

It was like reasoning with a toddler he had to coax him gently.

Wang Bupo had one fatal weakness: whenever someone cried in front of him, his temper vanished. He’d go soft, and no matter how angry he’d been, he couldn’t stay mad.

Twenty minutes later…

Wang Bupo stood at the sink, scrubbing his hands furiously, his face dark as thunder. His hands were shaking slightly as he washed them again and again.

He silently cursed himself for letting Fu Jing’s looks lower his defenses and make him cross a line he shouldn’t have.

Behind him, Fu Jing stood quietly in just a gray pair of briefs and a shirt, his arms loosely around Wang Bupo’s waist. His nose hovered near the back of Wang Bupo’s neck, taking shallow, restrained breaths through the inhibitor patch.

“Back off!” Wang Bupo elbowed him, then wiped his hands dry. He ordered, “Put your pants on. Now.”

This time, Fu Jing finally behaved he obediently pulled on his pants and sat still, waiting for Wang Bupo to administer the suppressant.

After the injection and a long round of coaxing to get him to lie down, Fu Jing finally drifted to sleep. Wang Bupo collapsed beside him, too exhausted to care about how awkward things might be when Fu Jing woke up. As far as he was concerned, if he didn’t feel embarrassed, that meant it was the other guy’s problem.

—

Eight o’clock the next morning.

Fu Jing woke up feeling an uncomfortable tightness low in his body. He shifted, only to realize that his arm was wrapped snugly around Wang Bupo’s waist, the two of them lying in a back-hug position.

He frowned. Even though they’d been sharing a bed lately, they’d never slept this close. Usually, they kept to their own sides. Even when they “treated” his condition, the most contact they had was holding hands before sleep—and that was it.

He rubbed his temples, feeling a dull ache. His mind was foggy, as if someone had punched him in the head. Maybe it was the alcohol from last night…