DCH CH 15

This Doctor, This Game

Qingyi’s eyes widened in shock. Just moments ago, he had been imagining this man losing control—okay, fine, he had imagined kissing him too—but how the hell did this guy know?!

Did… did he say his thoughts out loud?!

“W-what? S-so what if I did?” Qingyi stiffened, his heart pounding wildly, but he forced his voice to stay steady, feigning nonchalance.

Lu Jingcheng’s gaze darkened, his voice dropping lower. “Then go ahead.”

Qingyi: “?!”

Today, he felt like he was seeing Dr. Lu in a whole new light.

Qingyi rested his chin on Lu Jingcheng’s shoulder, shutting his eyes like a coward, refusing to speak.

There was no way he could admit that he wanted to see Lu Jingcheng lose control—that he’d fantasized about pinning this refined, saintly doctor in white and doing… things to him.

Just imagining this untouchable angel succumbing to desire was—

So damn thrilling.

But there was no way in hell he’d say that out loud.

Lu Jingcheng gently pulled him back, studying his face. “Changed your mind?”

“No!” Qingyi blurted out before his brain could catch up. Immediately, he wanted to slap himself.

Why are you so damn eager?!

Lu Jingcheng’s eyes curved into crescents, and once again, Qingyi found himself mesmerized by those striking peach-blossom eyes.

They shimmered like spring water, glinting with scattered light.

“Good.”

Staring at him, Qingyi forgot every single word he’d meant to say.

Hadn’t he fallen for those eyes the first time they met? And now, after all this time, he was still weak for them?

Pathetic.

But when his gaze dropped to Lu Jingcheng’s lips, Qingyi’s throat went dry. His entire body tensed, frozen in place.

“You’re really spacing out now?”

Lu Jingcheng’s voice, low and teasing, snapped him back to reality.

Qingyi jolted. Holy shit, why are YOU in such a hurry?!

I’m the one on top here—shouldn’t I be the one setting the pace?!

“You do it,” he muttered, then immediately wanted to strangle himself.

Just pounce already! Why ask for permission like an idiot?!

“Are you sure?” Lu Jingcheng’s tone was deceptively gentle, like a man barely holding back.

“…Yeah.”

The second the word left his mouth, Qingyi regretted it.

Wait, no—this was supposed to be MY show! Why am I letting him take over?!

“Alright.” Lu Jingcheng slowly raised a hand, cradling the back of Qingyi’s head as he leaned in. “Then… close your eyes.”

Qingyi’s mind went blank. All his protests vanished. And before he knew it—his traitorous eyelids obeyed.

Whatever. I’ll get my chance to turn the tables later.

Watching Qingyi’s lashes flutter shut, Lu Jingcheng smirked before closing his own eyes.

His lips brushed against Qingyi’s—soft, almost reverent.

Qingyi felt Lu Jingcheng’s eyelashes tremble, lightly grazing the corner of his eye. The touch was featherlight, sending a shiver down his spine.

Time seemed to freeze. Only their frantic heartbeats filled the silence.

But just as Qingyi’s hand slid toward Lu Jingcheng’s neck—

The warmth vanished.

Qingyi blinked his eyes open to find Lu Jingcheng already straightening up.

“You—” Qingyi struggled to form words. “That’s it?”

“Mhm.” Lu Jingcheng glanced away, forcing down the hunger in his eyes. “It’s late. I still need to review the interns’ reports.”

“That was… fast,” Qingyi muttered under his breath.

“What was that?”

“I said, doctors work too hard—you should take better care of yourself.”

“Is that so?” Lu Jingcheng traced Qingyi’s cheek with his thumb. “Because I swear I heard dissatisfaction.”

“Then why ask?!”

Lu Jingcheng suddenly yanked Qingyi closer by the collar, their noses almost touching. His voice dropped to a whisper.

“Ever heard of… the orthopedics demolition crew?”

His breath ghosted over Qingyi’s lips, sending all the blood in his body rushing straight to his head.

“…The hell does that mean?”

Unbelievable. The tension between them was suffocating. Qingyi didn’t even dare imagine what came next.

“I had no idea Ting-Ting was unhappy with my performance. My mistake.”

“Huh?!” Half of Qingyi’s brain short-circuited at the nickname. Ting-Ting?! Who the hell are you calling Ting-Ting?!

“Well?” Lu Jingcheng tilted his head, lips quirking. “If you don’t like this approach… I can switch it up.”

Before Qingyi could react, Lu Jingcheng nipped at his lower lip with his canine, then soothed the spot with his tongue.

Qingyi shuddered. A jolt of electricity shot through him, his breath hitching. “I—I’ll just close my eyes again.”

But with his eyes shut, the world narrowed to just the two of them—their mingled breaths, their pounding hearts.

Lu Jingcheng chuckled low in his throat, his hand slipping under Qingyi’s shirt, fingers tracing slow circles over his waist.

The teasing touch burned like wildfire. Qingyi’s grip tightened on Lu Jingcheng’s clothes, his hands roaming—tangling in his hair, skimming down his neck, memorizing every inch of him.

A while back, Qingyi had binge-watched medical documentaries to impress Lu Jingcheng. Most were mind-numbingly boring, but a few had caught his interest.

Now, his fingers found the pulse at Lu Jingcheng’s throat. He cracked an eye open, stealing a glance—

Only to meet Lu Jingcheng’s smoldering gaze head-on.

Sh*t. Qingyi snapped his eyes shut again.

Goddamn coward! Why am I the nervous one here?! He screamed internally. I’M supposed to be in charge!

As if to reclaim dominance, he pressed his lips to Lu Jingcheng’s neck, following the rhythm of his pulse down to his Adam’s apple.

It was a little trick he’d picked up from those documentaries—a silent, intimate taunt, teasing the very essence of life itself.

“Mmm… Captain Qingyi, you’re full of surprises…”

Lu Jingcheng’s voice wavered, his usual composure cracking.

Hearing it, Qingyi’s heart threatened to burst out of his chest.

“You sure you don’t need an ambulance?”

Lu Jingcheng pushed his head back slightly, eyes dark with desire but brimming with amusement. “I heard the highest heart rate recorded in your matches was 203. So… what’s yours right now, hm?”

The way his voice curled around the question sent heat pooling in Qingyi’s gut.

Qingyi dragged his fingers down Lu Jingcheng’s spine. “Probably… 520.”

“Still as cheesy as ever.”

“Shut up.”

He dove back in, mouthing at Lu Jingcheng’s throat. Lu Jingcheng arched into him, baring his neck.

Their movements knocked over an expensive figurine on Qingyi’s desk. It hit the ground with a thud.

Lu Jingcheng’s lips curled, his voice dripping with challenge as he braced himself against the desk. “Captain Qingyi… you sure your back can handle this position?”

Qingyi growled. Oh, it’s ON now.

He sealed his mouth over Lu Jingcheng’s throat again, swallowing the low, sinful moan that escaped him.

“Qingyi… Huo Ting,” Lu Jingcheng gasped, his voice ragged. “I… I regret something.”

“What?” Qingyi rasped.

“Not bringing… my white coat.” Lu Jingcheng’s fingers tangled in Qingyi’s hair. “Had I known you were this good… we could’ve played doctor properly.”

“If you’re interested, I can try to get a nurse’s outfit,” Lu Jingcheng’s grin could only be described as roguish. “If not, I’ll just buy one online later for fun. But let’s be clear—if I buy it, you’re the one who’s going to wear it.”

“…”

Qingyi lifted his head slightly, though most of his expression remained buried against Lu Jingcheng’s neck. His voice, however, had shed most of its earlier desire. “Lu Jingcheng, what do you mean by for fun?”

His face was hidden in shadow, in a place Lu Jingcheng couldn’t see—and it was unnervingly dark.

“?” The sudden use of his full name felt strange in this context. Lu Jingcheng sat up, finally realizing the mood had long since cooled. “Isn’t that how it is?”

“You’ve always thought I was just playing with you?”

Lu Jingcheng straightened fully, smoothing his clothes, his tone returning to its usual casualness as he pressed, “Weren’t you?”

Qingyi’s voice seemed to grind out between his teeth, each word deliberate: “I. Wasn’t. Playing.”

Lu Jingcheng’s eyes widened slightly, as if the answer defied his previous understanding. “Ahem, you really don’t have to be like this. I’ve heard about how rich people live—always wanting to try new things, new people…”

Noticing Qingyi’s darkening expression, Lu Jingcheng softened his phrasing. “Actually, like you said, there’s nothing wrong with two adults having a little fun. We’re both grown-ups, just relaxing and—”

He didn’t finish. Qingyi’s face had twisted into something even more terrifying.

“Lu Jingcheng, I’ll say this one last time—from the very beginning, I never intended this to be just a game.” Qingyi took another step forward, glaring at him, his tone laced with an unmistakable warning. “Stop pinning your fucking imaginary accusations on me.”

When Lu Jingcheng turned his head away, Qingyi grabbed his chin, forcing their eyes to meet. His gaze burned like a flickering flame. “I’m going to the bathroom. I’ll take you home after.”

Lu Jingcheng stayed seated on the table, unmoving. Bang!—the bathroom door slammed shut.

The sound of running water echoed from inside. Lu Jingcheng wasn’t stupid; he knew exactly what it meant.