Zaire was in a daze, for he hadn't expected Yvon to allow him inside so soon. Yvon glanced at him, turned around, and said as he entered the room, "I'm going to sleep."

Yvon was really tired. It was hard for him to tell whether it was physical or mental weariness. He felt suffocated by sullenness and gloom. He was not good at arguing. He was meek and willing to agree to others' needs as long as they didn't force him, especially when he was extremely tired. He hated being tense and being forced into a desperate situation.

Zaire was shocked by the loud sound of Yvon slamming the bedroom door.

It didn't matter to Yvon if there was someone else in his home because it was the same as before anyway. It was just that Zaire was injured, and Yvon didn't know how to cook, so they usually got takeout.

But he quickly tired of the takeout since it couldn't compare with Zaire's cooking at all. He realized that he'd become spoiled by Zaire and had turned into a picky eater.

Zaire, however, was quite used to it. He would eat whatever Yvon ordered. When he noticed that Yvon was eating less and less, he stopped to ask, "What's wrong? You don't like the food?"

Yvon was a little annoyed to find he was more fussy than the one who was injured. "I'm fine. Hurry up and finish. I'll do the dishes after that."

Zaire did not move and suddenly asked him, "Do you know how to use a kitchen knife?"

Yvon raised his head as Zaire put a piece of fried chicken on Yvon's plate. "Let's go buy groceries after lunch."

"Don't take that! Didn't you see the black spots under these mushrooms? The broccoli is for the soup, so choose a bigger one. This tomato is so soft. It's not fresh at all!"

Yvon could no longer stand Zaire nagging all the way and turned to glare at Zaire with a tomato in his hand.

Zaire immediately stopped and made a gesture of surrender. "Okay, okay, you can choose whatever you want. I'll listen to you."

Yvon put the soft tomato back and stormed forward. "We won't eat tomatoes today."

Zaire followed him leisurely, giggling.

Yvon stood in front of the seafood area and waited for Zaire to catch up before he asked, "Shall we buy some fish?"

"If you want."

Yvon awkwardly turned back his gaze at the fish and asked, "Which one?"

"Whichever one you like."

Yvon glared at Zaire aggressively. "I don't know how to pick out a fresh one!"

"Then what should we do?" Zaire tilted his head and looked at Yvon with amusement.

He felt that Yvon was like a cute child when he got angry.

The feeling of being teased irritated Yvon. He straightened his neck and was about to leave again. "I'm not buying anything anymore!"

"Hey," Zaire uttered as he quickly grabbed Yvon's wrist, "are you really leaving?" He smiled and continued, "To be honest, all the fish are the same. Just pick one you like and ask a clerk to slice it up for you. I can't cut the fish with my arm broken." He patted Yvon's back and chuckled. "Alright, don't be angry. I won't tease you anymore."

Yvon shrugged and retorted childishly, "Who's angry?"

"I'm angry. I'm being unreasonable, okay?" replied Zaire.

Zaire's words infuriated Yvon even more since he realized he was being coaxed by a boy who was 15 years younger than him. Yvon blurted out, "I'm already 32 years old!"

Zaire nodded. "Yes, you are. Great!"

He was dumbfounded. Zaire took the opportunity to take him to the cashier and said, "Let's go back now. I know you're not angry."

Zaire supported himself on the kitchen counter with one hand and said, "Yes, just cut it casually. Slice the cucumber, and we'll scramble the eggs. Be careful not to cut..."

"Hiss..." Before Zaire could finish his words, Yvon cut his index finger and immediately started to bleed. Yvon held his finger in frustration, feeling that he was always in an awkward situation in front of Zaire. He explained hesitantly, "I've never used this knife..."

Zaire looked at the top of Yvon's head and felt an itch in his heart. "Let me take a look."

The knife was a Japanese-style kitchen knife that Zaire had brought over. Its blade was thin and sharp, so it was easy to get injured when using it. Yvon's hand was dainty and soft. His nails were tidy, his fingertips were tender, and his knuckles were small. The cut was not deep, from which blood seeped out, slowly spreading across his fingertip.

Yvon felt a little uneasy under Zaire's stare. Just as he was about to withdraw his finger, Zaire put it into his mouth. Yvon felt the pleasant warmth of his mouth as he licked his fingertip and sucked the blood.

He withdrew his hand and blushed with embarrassment. "What are you doing?!"

Zaire licked his lips and suddenly chuckled. His eyes were burning with passion as he said, "It tastes sweet."

Yvon instinctively sensed the danger and turned his face away. "Are you crazy?"

Just as he had finished his words, Zaire's kiss fell on his lips. Zaire's slippery tongue squeezed into his mouth, and the sweet taste of blood mingled with the entanglement of their saliva.

"Hmm..." Yvon's waist was pressed against the edge of the counter. Zaire held the back of his head tightly with his right hand and pressed himself against him. Zaire's boiling breath blew on his face, making him burn all over.

He kept tilting his head back and took a hard bite on Zaire's lips. There was a stronger taste of blood as their lips and tongues entangled, tasting like poison mixed with stimulants. Yvon shivered, but Zaire kissed him more passionately as if he was going to swallow him whole.

Zaire's tongue had almost swept every corner of Yvon's mouth. Such a sticky, wet, and long kiss that Yvon couldn't avoid made Yvon breathless and dizzy.

When they parted, their lips even made the sound of a cork being pulled out of a bottle of wine. Yvon's upper lip was swollen, and his chin was covered with saliva. He held onto the counter and gasped for breath. His cheeks blushed scarlet, and his eyes were full of tears when he was staring at Zaire.

Zaire was still bleeding from the wound on his lips where Yvon had bitten. He licked it and lowered his head, looking at Yvon's crotch. A mischievous smile immediately appeared on his face.

He said, "Mr. Fonda, you're hard."

At eight o'clock in the evening, Yvon still hadn't come out of his room. Zaire knocked on the door and said, "Come out. The food is getting cold. I've completely forgotten about your erection just now..."

The person inside the room kicked the door hard.

Zaire tried his best to hold back his laughter and said, "Okay, I'll go into my room. Can you come out and have some food?"

The phone in Zaire's pants pocket suddenly vibrated at this moment. He answered the call, which was from John. "What's the matter?"

Zaire could hear John's voice mixed with loud music. "Where are you? Come out to have fun with us. We're at East Street."

He put his phone between his shoulder and head and went to the kitchen to pour himself a glass of water. "I have no time."

There seemed to be someone next to John leaning over to talk, but Zaire didn't hear it clearly because it was too noisy on the other end.

"Louis said you're boring. What's the point of you staying at home on weekends? By the way, it's interesting of that son of a bitch Louis to have come here to watch a football match with others and leave me here all alone."

Zaire laughed. "You can watch it with him."

For some reason, the other end of the line suddenly fell silent.

"Hello?"

John continued to speak again with an amused tone, "Fuck, Louis's brother is here. He was so scared that he hid in the bathroom. I'm leaving too."

Zaire put his phone back into his pocket with a smile and strode to knock on Yvon's door again. "No way. You've been masturbating for so long? You..."

Zaire heard another heavy kick on the door.