Let's try again.

Those words couldn't stop repeating in Junior's mind. He couldn't believe Ye Zhou saying them. He almost wanted to pinch himself to see if he was dreaming. But, feeling a burning flame surrounding him, Junior knew he was in reality.

He turned his head, slightly regretting when it brought them closer—their faces barely an inch apart.

"What are you saying?" Junior questioned, still not wanting to believe his ears. He could feel Ye Zhou's grip tightening on his wrist.

"Do you still think about it? Dream about it?" Ye Zhou's voice came out like a seductive whisper. It made Junior shiver, almost causing him to close his eyes.

Images flash through his mind, causing him to swallow slowly. Is it too hot in here?

"I-I don't." Junior stuttered, internally slapping himself. His stutter gave him away. He wished he never thought about that day, but he couldn't stop the dreams every night or the feeling of hands touching, burning, staining him. He even hated how he could still hear the whispers against his ear like a deadly echo.

Ye Zhou leaned closer, causing their lips to brush against each other. Junior gasped, trying hard to stop himself from pressing hard. He hated how his body craved Ye Zhou like a man stranded in the desert craved water.

Ye Zhou let Junior's wrist go, moving his hand towards Junior's neck and sliding up until his hands landed on Junior's cheek. Pulse quickening, Junior could feel his body trembling under Ye Zhou's touch. Everything inside him burned up like someone ignited a fire under him.

"Don't lie to me." Ye Zhou practically growled.

Junior whimpered as he felt Ye Zhou's growl wash over him like a prayer—a promise. He threw his head against the door, trying to let the pain become his thread of sanity. He prayed for a savior—he prayed for salvation.

"We can't, Ye Zhou. We can't." Junior could hear the begging in his tone; he sounded weak, too weak, and hated it. God, he hates what Ye Zhou does to him.

"What's holding you back, Junior? Let go." Ye Zhou practically ordered before closing the little distance between them.

Junior drowned.

There was no hesitation as their lips moved against each other. Junior could feel himself drowning from the lips he kept picturing for the last two weeks. They felt the same—they felt better. He couldn't stop his lips from parting, allowing Ye Zhou to slide his tongue inside.

Their tongues touched, entangled, fought, and explored. Junior could barely breathe, his nose slightly saving him, as he wrapped his arms around Ye Zhou's neck, pulling him closer until he couldn't tell which body was who.

Ye Zhou's hand gripped Junior's thigh, spreading his legs apart as he fitted himself in between. The kiss deepened, turning messy and desperate as they nibbled, sucked, and even bite.

Junior cried—whimpered, feeling that no one could save him from the buddling greed coursing through him. He didn't want to let go; he wanted to drown until Ye Zhou was taking over him.

They let go, allowing themselves to breathe in fresh air while saliva slid down their chins as the air filled with burning tension.

"Please," Junior begged, "stop me."

And no one answered his plea as Ye Zhou lifted Junior. He wrapped his legs around Ye Zhou's waist as he captured his lips this time. Nothing could slow them down as they rocked against each other.

Junior moaned, and Ye Zhou swallowed each reaction down. Their lips couldn't find rest—they wanted to consume each other, never wanting to let go; if they didn't have to breathe, they would kiss for hours without stopping.

Separating once more, Ye Zhou moved towards Junior's neck, sucking against the exposed skin. Junior threw his head back against the door, exposing more skin while his swollen mouth hung open in a silent moan.

Ye Zhou trailed his neck, leaving a few kisses and marks. Junior felt like a map holding treasure, and people were trying to find where the X lay.

He made his way towards Junior's chin and lips, claiming them. Their lips were like magnets, always finding their way to each other.

Another suck and slow hump against him would have driven Junior closer to the edge if only the bell didn't choose the moment to ring.

Once the bell filled every room in the school, it was like a spell ended between Junior and Ye Zhou. Junior let his legs fall from Ye Zhou's waist, ignoring how jelly-like they felt as he pushed Ye Zhou away. He wiped his chin and lips, ignoring the slight pain radiating off them.

He roughly pushed open the door, not daring to look back (he feared relapsing into Ye Zhou again) as he ran to the closest bathroom. Junior could hear everyone entering the halls but ignored them when he entered the bathroom.

He checked his appearance, seeing how flustered and disheveled he looked. His lips were swollen, his top buttons pulled apart, his clothes rumpled, and his face barely lost its heat (and let's not mention how tight his pants were). Junior looked like he came from a makeout session.

He gripped the sink while groaning and counted backward and forward, calming himself down. He turned the sink on, pushing the water onto his face to dispel the fire pouring out. Junior could imagine the steam coming from him.

Junior wanted to rage and cry, hating how he could allow himself to fall this far. Ye Zhou is someone he couldn't touch—someone he couldn't kiss. But when Ye Zhou appeared near, he couldn't stop his body from craving—from falling.

And after this, he didn't know if he could survive tasting something forbidden. At least, back then, it was an accident when he caved, but now there are no accidents—only clear minds and pulsing heat.

Glancing at the mirror, Junior knew he couldn't return to class. He had none of his things, but it didn't matter. Junior left the bathroom and walked to the nurse's office, deciding to skip his remaining classes by faking an illness.  

When school ended, Junior was sitting by a tree at the front of the school, waiting for Mo Ping to appear. He never returned to class, so he had no bag or phone. He could only wait for Mo Ping to arrive with his things.

Once he saw Mo Ping walking out of the school with his bag and phone, Junior made his way over. "Hey," Junior started, only for Mo Ping to interrupt him with a slap on his arm.

"Where the hell was you? You didn't return, and you wasted my food, you ass." Mo Ping complained but still handed Junior his bag and phone.

He grabbed his things, apologizing, "I am sorry. I went to the restroom and didn't feel well, so I slept in the nurse's office."

Mo Ping clicked her tongue, "Whatever. If you want to skip, let me know next time."

"Mo Ping, I swear I will make it up to you. How about coming over this weekend; my grandfather will be there."

"You," Mo Ping shook her finger, "know how to play me well. I would do anything to see your grandfather's large pecs. Like my hands can be a bra for him if he needs it. You got yourself a deal."

Junior shook his head; pulling the grandfather card worked every time with Mo Ping.

When they reached Junior's car, Junior and Mo Ping quickly entered and drove off. Junior dropped off Mo Ping, waving bye as he drove to a secret location. Once he reached a vast one-story building in the middle of nowhere, Junior parked his car with the others.

He walked towards the building and knocked on the front door. A small window on the door opened, and a person said, "Pass—." They cut themselves when they saw Junior at the door.

Junior heard multiple locks unlocking as the person swung the door open. "Junior, it has been a while since we saw you here. Sir has been throwing fits; no wonder he came today with a large grin."

Hugging the man, Su Tian, the doorkeeper, Junior slightly chuckles, "Yeah, Yao Yin wore me down."

"I hope you don't take offense to me saying that is a good thing because Sir has been driving us crazy." Su Tian commented, letting Junior go as he closed the door and returned to his seat beside it.

Junior waved his hand, "You are good; Fu Hua already complained to me."

"Well, welcome back."

"Thank you."

Junior walked away, stepping through the long hallway before he reached a glass door. He put a code into the door, unlocking it as he entered a vast room that held a few MMA cages.

He took off his shoes and stepped onto the matted ground. He made his way towards the locker room, greeting the people who waved at him. Once he entered the locker room, he saw Yao Yin standing near his locker, pacing back and forth.

"What did you do?" Junior greeted as he pushed Yao Yin away from his locker, opening it as he put his shoes in and pulled out an outfit.

Yao Yin jumped, hugging Junior from behind, "You actually came, baby!"

"You didn't answer my question." Junior pulled away from Yao Yin and started stripping, changing his clothes. He didn't care that Yao Yin was in the room; since the start of the club, he had seen Yao Yin and all the other members naked and vice versa.

"So, don't get mad," Yao Yin started, "but Ye Zhou is here."

Junior turned around, his shirt barely on and hanging on his shoulder, "You said you will get him not to come."

"I didn't promise anything; I said I will try. Ye Zhou followed me here. And do I look like the person could tell Ye Zhou to leave?"

Junior sighed, rubbing his forehead, "Where is he? I didn't see him out there."

"In my office; he is on a phone call but will come out later."

Junior glanced back to his locker, swallowing hard and wondering if he should leave. After what happened during lunch, he didn't feel ready to face Ye Zhou again—he never felt prepared to face Ye Zhou.

"Baby, don't leave. I have been itching for us to enter the ring. No one can beat my ass like you. Please don't leave, Junior." Yao Yin begged, never caring about his image.

After a minute of thinking, Junior returned to dressing, clicking his tongue, "You are shameless. Get ready to get your ass kicked."

"Yay!" Yao Yin jumped. "Let me get the ring and bets ready. I am so excited!" Yao Yin ran out of the locker room with a skip.

Junior ignored Yao Yin's happiness as he wondered how he would deal with Ye Zhou being here, especially when this place was adrenaline-filled.

Ye Zhou, why are you haunting me? Junior thought.