Chapter 14: Dirty Work

Lucian was jolted awake by his own body.

At four in the morning, he was clutching the duvet, panting heavily, his lower half a total mess.

He lay there, staring at the ceiling, his mind filled with the images from his dream... Sebastian leaning against him, eyelashes damp, a faint tooth mark on his lip, looking up at him...

Dammit.

He rolled over and buried his face in the pillow.

Dammit, dammit, dammit.

This man, Sebastian...

After stifling himself in the pillow for a while, he got up and headed to the bathroom for a cold shower.

By the time he came out, the sun hadn't yet risen. He stood at the bathroom door, looking at his own face in the mirror, muttered "You're crazy," and went downstairs to make breakfast.

At seven, breakfast was ready.

Congee, fried eggs, and side dishes were arranged neatly.

Lucian took off his apron and glanced upstairs. Just as he was about to head out, he heard movement from the staircase.

Sebastian was coming down.

He held the handrail, taking it one step at a time, moving incredibly slow. He was dressed in loose loungewear, his hair a mess, eyes not yet fully open, wearing a sleepy, relaxed expression.

Lucian stood in the foyer, watching him.

His heart skipped a beat.

He quickly looked away, pretending to organize his backpack.

Sebastian reached the bottom of the stairs, supported his waist, and paused to catch his breath.

Lucian walked over.

"How is it?" he asked, trying to keep his voice steady. "Any better?"

Sebastian looked up at him, his gaze still holding a trace of sleepy confusion.

He didn't speak; he just held out his hand.

Lucian blinked in surprise.

"Support me," Sebastian said, his tone dismissive. "Do I have to teach you everything?"

Lucian immediately stepped forward, his hand going to the man's waist.

Through the loungewear, he could feel that lean layer of muscle and the rigid medical brace underneath. With his palm pressed against that warmth, his heart skipped a few more beats.

"Do you want me to drop you off at the firm?" he asked.

Sebastian let out a yawn.

"No," he said lazily. "I took a leave of absence. One week."

Lucian gave a soft "oh" in response.

Supporting Sebastian toward the sofa, he asked again, "Does your back still hurt that bad?"

Sebastian didn't answer.

He was exhausted and couldn't be bothered to talk. After the chase with Marcus last night, his back injury had flared up again. He had woken up from the pain several times during the night and hadn't slept well at all. Now he was in a daze, only wanting to find a place to lean back.

Seeing his state, Lucian didn't press further.

He helped him sit on the sofa and fetched cushions to stuff behind his back.

Sebastian leaned back and closed his eyes again.

Lucian stood there, looking down at him.

The living room was silent, save for the hum of the heater.

The way he looked while half-asleep was completely different from his usual cold, distant self.

He looked soft.

Obedient.

Easy to bully.

The thought bubbled up in Lucian’s mind again—

He wanted to hold him.

He stared at that face for three solid seconds.

Then, as if possessed, he leaned down and pulled the man into an embrace, wrapping both arms around his body and resting his chin on Sebastian's shoulder.

Sebastian was jolted awake.

His body went rigid instantly, his eyes snapping open. His voice carried the rasp and rage of someone just awakened: "Are you freaking crazy?!"

Lucian didn't say a word.

Nor did he let go.

He just held him, burying his face in Sebastian’s shoulder, breathing in the faint scent of laundry detergent. His heart was hammering like a drum.

"Lucian!"

"Yeah."

"Let go!"

"No."

Sebastian took a deep breath.

He couldn't move; his back hurt too much to struggle. He could only endure being held, feeling the young body pressed against his—warm, powerful, and carrying a hint of body wash.

"You're sick," he said, his voice too weary to carry any real anger.

"Yeah," Lucian muttered in response.

"Nutcase."

"Yeah."

"..."

Sebastian couldn't be bothered to insult him further.

He closed his eyes, leaned back against the sofa, and allowed the boy to hold him.

He couldn't break free anyway, and yelling was useless. He might as well save his strength.

Lucian held him, feeling as though no amount of holding would ever be enough.

"Maybe you should come to school with me?"

Sebastian cracked an eyelid to look at him.

"It's not convenient for you to be home alone. What if you want water or something—"

"Do you think my back doesn't hurt enough?" Sebastian interrupted, his tone flatly unimpressed. "You want me to go to school with you? And sit on a hard bench all day?"

Lucian was stumped.

"True," he scratched his head. "You should probably stay here and rest."

He pulled out his phone, swiped a few times, and tapped the screen.

Sebastian watched him.

"What are you doing?"

"Taking a leave of absence," Lucian said without looking up. "One week."

Sebastian blinked in surprise.

"What are you taking a leave for?"

"To take care of you," Lucian said as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "If you're home alone and you fall, what then? What if you want water and there's no one to pour it? What if..."

"If you're not here," Sebastian interrupted again, his tone dry, "I'd probably recover much faster."

Lucian’s finger paused over the screen.

He lifted his head to look at Sebastian.

Sebastian was leaning against the sofa, his face expressionless, but the corner of his mouth seemed to quirk ever so slightly.

Lucian stared at him for two seconds.

"You really," he said, emphasizing every word, "are tough everywhere except where it counts."

Sebastian said nothing, merely supporting his waist as he slowly adjusted his position.

"I want to lie down," he said.

Lucian stood up instantly to help him.

"Easy now."

Guided by Lucian, Sebastian walked bit by bit into the bedroom. Lucian pulled back the duvet and helped him slowly lie facedown.

Once Sebastian was settled, his face buried in the pillow, he let out a long, heavy breath.

Lucian stood by the bed, watching him.

While lying down, Sebastian didn't look nearly as cold. His hair was scattered, revealing a bit of his nape. His loungewear was slightly rumpled, and the outline of the medical brace was faintly visible at his waist.

As Lucian watched, his throat suddenly felt dry.

"How is it?" he asked, his voice a bit hoarse. "Any better?"

Sebastian didn't answer.

After a few seconds, he shifted, trying to brace himself against the bed to turn over.

"I’ll just lean back," he said, his brow furrowed. "Lying face down isn't comfortable either."

Lucian hurried forward to support him, helping him lean against the headboard with two pillows propped behind him.

Sebastian leaned there, his complexion still poor and his lips pale.

Lucian felt a twinge of unease looking at him.

He pulled a floor cushion over and sat down by the bedside.

Sebastian looked at him.

"What are you doing?"

"Keeping you company," Lucian said matter-of-factly.

Sebastian was speechless.

"Why are you sitting there? It's not like I'm dying."

"Just consider me bored." Lucian leaned against the nightstand and pulled out his phone to scroll.

Sebastian stared at him for two seconds, then decided to ignore him. He reached for a book on the nightstand and began to read.

The bedroom fell silent.

After a long while, Lucian suddenly spoke.

"What exactly is the deal between you and that guy?"

Sebastian’s hand paused in mid-turn of a page.

"Which guy?"

"Marcus," Lucian said. "The one from yesterday. The one who chased us."

Sebastian remained silent.

Lucian waited, and when no answer came, he turned to look at him.

Sebastian was leaning against the headboard, the book resting on his lap, watching him.

That gaze was different from his usual one.

It was playful, observant, and carried something Lucian couldn't quite decipher.

"Are you curious?" Sebastian asked.

Lucian blinked, then nodded.

Sebastian smiled.

The kind of smile that made the hair on Lucian’s neck stand up.

"Fine." Sebastian closed the book. "You still owe me thirty thousand dollars, right?"

Lucian’s expression shifted.

"What about it?"

"Do some work for me," Sebastian said. "One task clears one thousand. That way, you won't have to pay me back."

Lucian stared at him.

"What kind of work?"

"Next week," Sebastian said leisurely, "Marcus is having dinner with the second daughter of the house of Qin at the Peace Hotel. You go there and ruin it."

Lucian was stunned.

"Ruin it? How?"

"That's your problem." Sebastian leaned back against the pillows. "I only want you to make sure that dinner doesn't happen, and that Marcus loses face in front of the Qin family."

Lucian glared at him.

"You mother—"

"That’s one thousand off," Sebastian interrupted. "Don't you owe me thirty thousand? Do thirty tasks, and we're even."

Lucian opened his mouth, then closed it.

He stared at Sebastian, his gaze complex.

"You really are a piece of work," he said.