Yu Xi dropped his head into his hands, biting his lower lip so hard he almost drew blood. His cock was a furious, throbbing ache trapped in his pants. Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. He pressed the heels of his palms against his closed eyes, seeing nothing but the image of Jian Ci in that towel, the water on his skin, the way his throat moved when he drank.
"Calm down," he whispered to himself, a desperate, ragged command. "Just fucking calm down."
But his body wasn't listening. Every nerve was alive, screaming for the touch he had just had, for the taste of Jian Ci's mouth, for the feel of that wet, perfect skin under his hands. He ran his fingers through his hair, tugging at the roots, exhaling a long, shuddering breath that did nothing to settle him.
