Yu Han felt a cold dread creep up his spine, his internal alarms blaring louder than any fire drill.
He'd just heard Li Hao's "reasons," vague and unsettling as they were, culminating in a statement that had utterly shattered his understanding of their dynamic.
Yu Han's jaw literally felt like it had unhinged, dropping to the floor with an audible click only he could hear in the ringing silence.
His mind, usually sharp and analytical, spun in a dizzying vortex of confusion and disbelief.
"Li Hao? The Li Hao? The epitome of masculine confidence, the man who commanded respect and attention everywhere he went, wanted to... what?"
He stared at Li Hao, his eyes wide and unfocused, then narrowed slightly as if trying to physically make sense of the words. A tremor ran through him.
"What did you just... what did you just say?" Yu Han stammered, his voice barely a whisper, laced with a raw, disbelieving edge. "You... you want to fuck me?" He swallowed hard, the sound loud in the quiet room.
"What is wrong with you? What... Are you serious right now? Is this some kind of sick joke?" He searched Li Hao's face for any sign of a smirk, a tell-tale twinkle of amusement, but found only an unwavering, intense gaze that sent a shiver down his spine.
Before Yu Han could process another thought, Li Hao moved, swift and decisive. He pulled Yu Han by the arm, yanking him off balance and straight into his chest.
Yu Han gasped, his hands flailing instinctively against Li Hao's firm torso. But Li Hao's grip was iron, and as Yu Han was pressed against him, a hand snaked around his waist, firmly cupping and then tightly grabbing his buttock. A searing heat flooded Yu Han's face and neck.
"What's wrong in fucking you?" Li Hao's voice was a low rumble against Yu Han's ear, a dangerous calm to it.
His thumb began to slowly, deliberately caress the soft curve of Yu Han's buttock through the thin fabric of his sleep pants.
"You've already kissed me, haven't you? Tasted me, felt me. And you helped me jerking off that night. Don't tell me you didn't feel anything then, Yu Han." His words were a direct, undeniable challenge, each one loaded with implication.
Yu Han wriggled, a visceral alarm screaming through every nerve ending. The contact, the possessive grip, the sheer audacity of Li Hao's words – it was all too much.
He couldn't reconcile this predatory stranger with the Li Hao he knew. His mind clung to the most fundamental, societal barrier he could think of.
"Li Hao, stop it!" Yu Han protested, pushing against Li Hao's chest with what little leverage he had.
"Let go of me! This is insane! I'm a man! How... how can you even think of... of fucking me like that?" His voice rose, tinged with genuine confusion and a growing panic.
"This is impossible! Men don't... I don't... We're both men! What are you even talking about?" He tried to twist away, but Li Hao's embrace was unyielding.
A slow, knowing smirk spread across Li Hao's lips. His eyes, dark and heavy-lidded, drifted from Yu Han's wide, panicked stare, slowly, deliberately, down to Yu Han's trapped lower body, resting for an uncomfortably long moment on the very spot his hand was still firmly cupping. Then, with an almost imperceptible shift, Li Hao's gaze drifted back up to Yu Han's face, his eyes sparkling with a dark, mischievous glint, full of unspoken meaning.
The unspoken was immediately, chillingly understood by Yu Han. The implications of that smirk, that downward glance, that knowing return of gaze – it hit him like a physical blow. His blood ran cold, then boiled with a furious heat. The abstract "fucking" became sickeningly, terrifyingly concrete.
"You asshole!" Yu Han roared, a burst of pure, unadulterated rage erupting from him. He shoved with all his might, fury lending him strength.
"You sick, twisted pervert! Don't you ever think of that again, you understand me?! I'll kill you!"
Blind with rage and disgust, Yu Han started flailing, his fists connecting with Li Hao's shoulders and chest in a clumsy, desperate storm of blows. He didn't care if it hurt Li Hao; he just wanted him to stop. He wanted the image of that smirk, that gaze, erased from his mind.
But Li Hao, surprisingly, didn't seem fazed. He easily grabbed Yu Han's wrists mid-swing, his grip firm and unyielding, stopping the assault. He held Yu Han's hands in one of his, effectively pinning him.
"Okay, okay," Li Hao said, his voice calmer than Yu Han's racing heart, almost dismissive now. He let go of Yu Han's buttock, much to Yu Han's relief, but didn't release his wrists. "That's enough. Settle down. Go to sleep."
Yu Han ripped his hands free, glaring at Li Hao with a furious, burning death stare that promised pain and retribution. His chest heaved, his breath coming in ragged gasps.
He didn't say another word, but the message in his eyes was crystal clear: Don't you dare think this is over. He then violently turned his back to Li Hao, pulling himself as far to the edge of the bed as he could, presenting a rigid, unyielding wall of rejection.
A long moment of tense silence followed, thick with unspoken anger and unresolved desire. Then, Yu Hao felt a tentative touch against his back, a light caress on his shoulder. Li Hao was trying to pull him back, to bridge the chasm that had just opened between them.
Without thinking, driven by pure instinct and residual revulsion, Yu Han pivoted, snapping his head around and sinking his teeth, hard, into the back of Li Hao's hand that had dared to touch him.
Li Hao let out a sharp yelp of pain, snatching his hand back immediately. "Damn it, Yu Han! What the hell was that for?!" he exclaimed, rubbing his now throbbing hand.
Yu Han merely glared over his shoulder, his eyes still blazing with defiance. His breathing was still heavy, but a small, grim satisfaction settled in his chest.
"You deserved that," he managed to hiss, turning back around and hunching his shoulders, pulling the covers tighter around himself.
Li Hao grumbled under his breath, but the message was received. He didn't try to touch Yu Han again.
The rest of the night passed in a tense, stony silence, the space between them feeling wider and colder than the entire room.
The hospital room was cloaked in the oppressive silence of late night, broken only by the faint, rhythmic beep of a distant monitor and the soft, even breaths beside him.
Yu Han lay rigidly on his side, his back pressed as close to the cool metal bed rail as possible, his face buried slightly in his pillow. Every muscle in his body was coiled tight, a desperate, futile effort to create distance from the man sharing the same bed.
Li Hao.
The name ricocheted in Yu Han's mind, a fresh wound. Just an hour ago, in the dim glow of the nightlight, Li Hao's voice had been a low, almost tender murmur, full of a casual intimacy that twisted Yu Han's gut.
Li Hao (echoing in Yu Han's mind): "I just want to fuck you."
The words had been a whisper, yet they had detonated within Yu Han like a grenade.
He'd feigned sleep instantly, every nerve in his body screaming alert, a cold dread seizing him. He felt Li Hao shift, settle, and then, the slow, steady rhythm of his breathing that indicated peaceful slumber.
But there was no peace for Yu Han.
A single bead of sweat, cold and unwelcome, trickled down his temple. Then another, and another, until his skin felt slick, clammy, despite the cool night air.
His heart, a frantic, trapped bird, battered against his ribs, a terrifying, irregular thump-thump-THUMP-thump. Each beat was a hammer blow, shattering the fragile walls he'd built around his past.
"No. Not again. Please, not again."
His breath hitched, a silent, desperate gasp catching in his throat. He felt the tremor begin deep within his core, a subtle vibration that rapidly escalated into a violent, uncontrollable shaking.
His whole body convulsed, his teeth chattering a silent rhythm of terror. He curled tighter, knees drawn to his chest, arms wrapped around himself, trying to become smaller, invisible, as if he could physically ward off the encroaching memories.
He felt them. The phantom pressure on his skin, the ghost of a touch that sent icy tendrils of revulsion through him.
It wasn't Li Hao's touch, not logically, but the memory... oh, the memory was so vivid, so real. He squeezed his eyes shut, but the darkness behind his eyelids was no longer a refuge.
It was a canvas for terrifying flashes: distorted face, mocking whispers, the suffocating weight of helplessness. Memories he had spent years burying, sealing away with every shred of his will, now screamed their way back, sharper, crueler than any nightmare.
"He's not touching me. It's not real. It's not real…"
But the shaking intensified, a desperate, silent scream. He was drowning in the past, suffocating in a fear so primal it stole his breath.
Every fiber of his being screamed to flee, to run until his lungs collapsed, but he was trapped. Trapped by the fragile state that had landed him in the hospital, by the exhaustion that held him captive, and most terrifyingly, by the man sleeping mere inches away.
Slowly, hesitantly, he forced his eyelids open, his gaze fixed on the wall in front of him. Then, with an agonizing slowness, he risked a glance over his shoulder.
Li Hao.
He was on his back, a faint, almost serene expression on his face. His chest rose and fell with the slow, steady rhythm of deep sleep. He looked utterly peaceful, unaware of the inferno he had ignited, the storm he had unleashed. No nightmares haunted his dreams. No phantom touches tormented his skin. No past horrors clawed at his sanity.
"How? How can you just… sleep? After saying that? After bringing all this back? Don't you see what you've done? Don't you feel it?"
A hot, stinging tear escaped, carving a path down his sweat-drenched temple into his hair. It wasn't just terror now; it was a profound, aching despair.
The fragile peace he had painstakingly, agonizingly, built brick by brick, lay in ruins around him. He felt exposed, violated, as if his innermost sanctuary had been brutally breached by a careless, thoughtless word.
His body continued to tremble, a silent, desperate scream lost in the suffocating quiet of the hospital room. He wished he could disappear, wished he could rewind time, wished Li Hao had never spoken.
But the words were out, the memories were awake, and Yu Han was left to drown in the torrent, alone on this shared, horrifying bed.
The night stretched before him, an endless, terrifying expanse.