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Chapter 29 - [ Folded Cloth ; Bare Skin ]

Author thoughts : a Lil suggestion for you all 😅😁..listen mo dao zu shi's " wangxian " while reading it..I think you'll get the best experience by it..😉😁😅❤..both soft , sad , beautiful and hot..not just saying.. I tried it too..and it's great..I was even blushing hard just by reading my own writing 😳❤😅😵

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The moon had passed its zenith by the time Yujin opened the sliding door.

His robe was half-loose, damp at the shoulder from the bath he took an hour too late. His fingers had lingered in the water until it cooled — hoping the numbness might drown the fire stuck in his blood.

It didn't.

Xiao wasn't asleep.

He lay on his side, facing the door like he'd been waiting — but not impatiently. No teasing. No sulking. Just stillness.

"You're late," he said quietly.

"I'm afraid," Yujin answered honestly. "Of you. Or maybe... of not touching you again."

Xiao blinked. "Then touch me. But only if you can do it without guilt."

Yujin crossed the room and knelt beside the futon. Xiao's mouth stayed slightly open. Waiting.

Tonight... he was willing.

"I'm not pure," Xiao murmured.

"I never asked you to be," Yujin whispered, thumb brushing his jawline.

"I've been... touched before."

"But never loved?"

Xiao looked away.

Yujin gently turned his face back. "I want to make you feel that difference."

There was no rush. Only breath and heat and the sound of worn fabric giving way.

Yujin's lips pressed just below Xiao's ear. "Tell me if I'm too slow."

"You're too careful," Xiao whispered. "But I like that. For now."

Hands explored what words couldn't. Yujin traced every scar, every tremble, every inhale. Xiao arched beneath him — not like someone begging, but like someone finally letting himself be wanted.

When Yujin entered him — slow, asking, reverent — Xiao didn't cry out. He smiled. Soft. Quiet. Disbelieving.

They didn't speak during. But their hands kept speaking.

One clutched the sheets, the other cradled the nape. One gasped, the other kissed the tear that nearly fell.

Their bodies didn't slam. They folded. Like old cloth pressed against a chest after years of waiting to be worn again.

When it ended, Xiao didn't curl away.

He lay there, face damp, heart open.

Yujin kissed his fingers. "Was I too much?"

"No," Xiao said, voice sleep-heavy. "You were finally enough."

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