Futile Devices Scans

The cold wind, when it encountered a narrow alley, was like a child seeing a puddle—always eager to run wild.

Xue Bao Tian hugged himself slightly, standing deep in the alley facing off against Zhang Chi.

Zhang Chi stepped half a pace closer. “Two hundred, you’re going back on your word?”

Xue Bao Tian stepped back two paces. “You fucking watched me get hit earlier. My shoulder still hurts.”

“I got it back for you.”

Xue Bao Tian thought for a moment. “That scream at the end when you went back?”

“Mm. I vented your anger for you.”

“Don’t act cute,” Xue Bao Tian snapped, unmoved. “You clearly could’ve stopped me from taking that hit.”

He leaned against the alley wall, scrutinizing Zhang Chi. “I’ve noticed—you look easygoing on the surface, but you’re actually pretty scheming. Wasn’t this just to force me to keep that room?” His shadow merged with his body against the wall, shrugging along with him. “Fine, I won’t cancel the room. I don’t care about that bit of money. You can go stay there—take a proper shower in a fancy hotel and wash off that stray-dog smell!”

Xue Bao Tian straightened and walked toward the alley entrance. His shadow slid from the wall to the ground, followed him a couple of steps, then stopped.

A large hand caught his wrist. Zhang Chi wore a faint smile. “Two hundred, you’re playing tricks again.”

“So what if I am?”

“I don’t like forcing things,” Zhang Chi said, the faint smile fading. “But what you owe me, I’m taking back. Two hundred, tonight you owe me.”

His wrist was suddenly pulled, and Xue Bao Tian collided into a solid, warm chest. Zhang Chi bent slightly, brushing his nose near Xue Bao Tian’s ear as he murmured, “We don’t have to go to a hotel.”

“Brother Chi!” Xue Bao Tian hurriedly slapped his face lightly. “Don’t go crazy here. There’s nothing between us that can’t be talked out—let’s just talk it through.”

But Zhang Chi held him tighter. Beneath the trench coat, a warm hand rubbed and kneaded at his waist again and again. The faint ache made Xue Bao Tian grit his teeth before making up his mind.

“Brother Chi, you’ve never done this before, right? I’ll teach you today—consider it repayment.” He began coaxing, “There’s a lot of technique to it. If you don’t learn, your future lover will laugh at you.”

He forcefully pulled some distance between them. “How about it? You won’t lose out.”

Zhang Chi lowered his gaze, looking at him like he was assessing a smooth-talking liar. After Xue Bao Tian swallowed nervously for the third time, Zhang Chi finally spoke reluctantly. “A lot of techniques?”

“…A lot.”

“Guaranteed to teach, guaranteed you’ll learn?”

There was a brief hesitation before Xue Bao Tian gritted his teeth. “Guaranteed.”

“Then start.”

He was pressed deeper into the alley, his shadow no longer following. Their breaths tangled together. Zhang Chi lifted Xue Bao Tian’s chin again and urged softly, “Master Xue, begin.”

If not me, then who? Xue Bao Tian took a deep breath, straightened up, and said coolly, “Close your eyes.”

Zhang Chi complied, closing his eyes. He felt the hot breath in front of him moving nearer and farther, brushing close at times—almost touching the fine hairs on his skin—only to pull away again.

Zhang Chi didn’t rush him. He simply stroked Xue Bao Tian’s hair gently. He felt the body in his arms stiffen for a moment—then suddenly, warmth touched his lips.

Soft… but cool.

Zhang Chi’s mind went blank. His arms tightened instinctively, a swelling ache rising in his chest. He held Xue Bao Tian by the waist and pressed him against the wall.

“Zhang Chi!” Xue Bao Tian pulled away, scolding in a flustered whisper. “Did I tell you to move?”

Zhang Chi steadied himself, murmured an apology, and closed his eyes again—completely compliant.

Xue Bao Tian hesitated before cupping Zhang Chi’s face with both hands. In his mind, he silently recited fragments of Buddhist scripture he didn’t even remember learning, then lifted his head and kissed him again.

“Start with the corner of the lips,” he said softly against his mouth. The cool, soft touch brushed Zhang Chi’s lip corner, then slowly shifted to cover the peak of his lips. “Then move in… stay a little longer.”

Saying to kiss more, that trace of coolness pulled away first: “Try to get the feel of it yourself for a bit… I…”

Before he could finish, Zhang Chi pulled him back again: “I’ve got the feel of it—kiss longer.”

Warmth and coolness intertwined for a long while before Zhang Chi pressed against Xue Bao Tian’s lips and asked, “What’s next? Can we continue?”

“Continue your ass,” Xue Bao Tian snapped, shoving Zhang Chi away. He wiped his lips with his sleeve. “Zhang Chi, if you’ve got the guts then finish me off tonight—I’m not playing house with you anymore!”

He turned his face aside, hiding the panic and fluttering in his eyes. Damn it, it’s been too long—just kissing a man like this is enough to make my heart race.

“Two hundred,” Zhang Chi stepped closer, lowering himself to look directly into Xue Bao Tian’s eyes. His slightly reddened lips pressed and lingered as he murmured hoarsely, almost like a lover’s whisper, “Please… can we continue?”

“Fuck!” The unfamiliar surge of emotion drowned out reason in an instant. Xue Bao Tian grabbed Zhang Chi and bit down hard on his lips. The already flushed lips turned a deep red, making them look even more tempting.

“Does this count as continuing?” Xue Bao Tian’s angry voice trembled through the air, yet only made the night feel more ambiguous and intimate.

No one answered—only the rustling sound of Xue Bao Tian being pressed back against the wall again.

Zhang Chi leaned in, covering him. As he felt a trace of moisture on his lips, he heard a sharp command: “Open your mouth.”

The kiss burned with a loss of control and intensity. At first, it was Xue Bao Tian recklessly charging forward, but at some point Zhang Chi quietly took control, using what he had just learned to dominate the rhythm.

Realizing too late, Xue Bao Tian tried to push him away, only to have his hands seized and pinned against the wall. It was a fully aggressive posture—strength and weakness, invasion and surrender. Xue Bao Tian’s anger lasted only a moment before Zhang Chi’s lips and tongue pressed in again, stealing his focus and breath. He was kissed until his body went weak, his mind hazy—forgetting resistance, forgetting embarrassment, forgetting gender, even forgetting the feelings he shouldn’t have—left only with the instinct to respond to the man before him.

“Two hundred,” lips pressed together, Zhang Chi’s voice turned indistinct and intimate within the shared breath, “Call me ‘boyfriend’ again.”

“Want to die?”

The hoarse, softened curse made Zhang Chi chuckle. His fingertips slid down from Xue Bao Tian’s neck to his back, then to his waist, stopping at the hem of his shirt before slipping inside.

By the end, there was no technique left—Xue Bao Tian was held tightly at the waist, pressed deep against him. Lips that had once been cold were now burning hot. In the cold night, the clear sound of kissing stirred something hidden deep within. With their bodies pressed so closely together, nothing could be concealed.

“Want to go to the hotel? I’ll help you,” Zhang Chi finally pulled away from his lips, kissing from his cheek down to his earlobe, coaxing softly at the closest distance, “Just help you—nothing else.”

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