I'm the only straight man in the entire dormitory of international students

There was an advertisement call, Song Ziyan hung up, and looked at the time, it was 18:52.

The bedroom light is much dimmer.

Alex stood behind him, he glanced casually, and saw the shadows of the two of them printed on the dark orange wall.

Song Ziyan's mood fluctuated for no reason. He took a breath, put one knee on the sofa, then lay down on it, turned his head, and looked at Alex.

His cheeks were reddish, his watery eyes lowered after one glance, and he handed over the phone.

There was a lump in Alex's chest, and his heart beat like a drum, pounding heavily.

He smiled and took the phone.

Song Ziyan turned his head away, his forehead lightly resting on his folded arms, and said in a low voice, "... First, unzip the zipper on my back."

Alex cleared his throat and said yes.

In two or three seconds, Song Ziyan felt the skirt tighten, and then there was the sound of the zipper being slowly unzipped.

Song Ziyan's long eyelashes trembled and he closed his eyes.

The zipper goes to the bottom.

He whispered, ". Put your hands on my waist."

Alex looked at his slender waist outlined by the skirt, breathed heavily, and put his hands on his waist.

"……no."

"Huh?" Alex couldn't help but take his hands away, thinking he had done something wrong, so he listened.

"Not through clothes."

Song Ziyan muttered, "Твоярука...(your hand)" Alex was stunned, and heard his voice hoarse, ".Моярука?"

The evening wind blew, and the light in the bedroom became dim again, as if covered with a layer of black tulle.

I don't like this kind of atmosphere.

Song Ziyan listened to his own breathing, "...Да. (yes)" but did not hear Alex's answer.

Just as Song Ziyan was about to turn his head, he felt the fabric on the zipper side of the skirt on the back being picked up, and then his body trembled.

It's Alex's hand.

First the fingertips, then the palms, covering his waist with a high temperature.

……

Julian said.

……

Song Ziyan's forehead, which was resting on his arm, was a little hot, as if he was sweating, and he was so stuffy.

He tilted his head slightly, and then murmured, "Alex, touch me." The author has something to say: I'm back, Mr. Short [laughing and crying] I won't make any promises this time, so as not to slap myself in the face. In short, um !